From - Wed Jun 23 06:09:30 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10wdyk-00047n-00; Tue, 22 Jun 1999 23:45:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6243; Tue, 22 Jun 99 23:44:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0429; Tue, 22 Jun 1999 23:44:10 -0400 Date: Tue, 22 Jun 1999 23:44:19 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: Re: From The War Office, With Apologies To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bc7546a3dda8deb842a85e9c4fc91d36 In a message dated 6/22/99 10:25:55 PM Central Daylight Time, lipstickflash@USWEST.NET writes: > Yes! It was us! BWA HA HA HA HA! > > Well, OK, it really wasn't--but claiming serendipitous accidents as > victories for your side isn't exactly a new thing in the real world. Well, h'it weren't the Ratpackers wot stole the shiny pretty link!!!! We'd NEVER mess around wit' a nudder faction's webpage. H'it be... very naughty ta do tha! --Libs From - Wed Jun 23 17:08:57 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10wktV-00014P-00; Wed, 23 Jun 1999 07:08:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0863; Wed, 23 Jun 99 07:07:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4636; Wed, 23 Jun 1999 07:05:14 -0400 Date: Wed, 23 Jun 1999 06:06:31 CDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: From the War Office: War Tutorial To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3579adaa9854bbdc2ca4092e7ba3e212 Hello, The following page has a great tutorial from War #9: http://www.geocities.com/Athens/7139/war9ldrs.htm For those who have not participated, please review this as it gives some great examples. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Thu Jun 24 17:32:15 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10x7pt-0001oD-00; Thu, 24 Jun 1999 07:38:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4463; Thu, 24 Jun 99 07:36:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9728; Thu, 24 Jun 1999 07:35:34 -0400 Date: Thu, 24 Jun 1999 06:36:49 CDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: From The War Office: Faction Leader Permission Slips And Voting X-To: forkni-l@lists.psu.edu To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8fdfd896478d85e7a7b42bede6689981 Hello, When posting to the FK lists, please remember to start your subject with WAR: so that those who wish to ignore war messages may be able to do so. This message was sent to both lists, to remind participants that notes and communication regarding war preparation should, and will be done through the Forkni-L list and *not* the FKFic-L list. The war itself will occur on the FKFic-L list, with proper heading to allow those who are not participating to avoid it. It is highly recommended that if you are planning to participate in the coming war and wish to be included in the preparation, that you subscribe to the Forkni-L list as soon as possible. We have set up a faction leader list and will be adding faction leaders as we get their permission slips. It is important to at least get the leadership permission slips initially, to allow for lines of communication to be set up and activated. Votes are coming in and are being tallied (duplicate voting *is* frowned upon, but tolerated and discounted). Of the 100+ votes so far, August 13th is leading by about a 3 to 1 margin. The voting will be kept open through the weekend with an announcement at the beginning of next week as to the final result. For a great tutorial that was prepared for War #9, please visit: http://www.geocities.com/Athens/7139/war9ldrs.htm More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Thu Jun 24 17:32:14 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10x7oU-0001lc-00; Thu, 24 Jun 1999 07:37:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2068; Thu, 24 Jun 99 07:35:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9716; Thu, 24 Jun 1999 07:35:33 -0400 Date: Thu, 24 Jun 1999 06:36:49 CDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: From The War Office: Faction Leader Permission Slips And Voting X-To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6e28d7b9ef7e6762b056798c472b175c Hello, When posting to the FK lists, please remember to start your subject with WAR: so that those who wish to ignore war messages may be able to do so. This message was sent to both lists, to remind participants that notes and communication regarding war preparation should, and will be done through the Forkni-L list and *not* the FKFic-L list. The war itself will occur on the FKFic-L list, with proper heading to allow those who are not participating to avoid it. It is highly recommended that if you are planning to participate in the coming war and wish to be included in the preparation, that you subscribe to the Forkni-L list as soon as possible. We have set up a faction leader list and will be adding faction leaders as we get their permission slips. It is important to at least get the leadership permission slips initially, to allow for lines of communication to be set up and activated. Votes are coming in and are being tallied (duplicate voting *is* frowned upon, but tolerated and discounted). Of the 100+ votes so far, August 13th is leading by about a 3 to 1 margin. The voting will be kept open through the weekend with an announcement at the beginning of next week as to the final result. For a great tutorial that was prepared for War #9, please visit: http://www.geocities.com/Athens/7139/war9ldrs.htm More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Thu Jun 24 17:34:24 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10xGv5-0005GK-00; Thu, 24 Jun 1999 17:20:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8157; Thu, 24 Jun 99 17:18:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4366; Thu, 24 Jun 1999 17:18:01 -0400 Date: Thu, 24 Jun 1999 14:18:32 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: StormBorn Subject: WAR: Looking for a faction To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 32d76236d1753a7dcb615dd5a4f6d0d4 Are there any Seducers out there who would be interested in warring as a faction? I won't be warring with the UF and I really really want to play! Molly/StormBorn UF/FKPagan/Cousin/Seducer/Ravenette/DT lipstickflash@uswest.net http://members.tripod.com/~StormBorn/fk.htm From - Fri Jun 25 06:07:16 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10xNjT-0005Qu-00; Fri, 25 Jun 1999 00:36:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0450; Fri, 25 Jun 99 00:35:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3787; Fri, 25 Jun 1999 00:35:24 -0400 Date: Fri, 25 Jun 1999 13:30:16 +0900 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8269c44eb008f9441753778c62bd7fe2 Do the natpackers play in the wars? Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) http://www.naturesong.com Be careful, I bite. Reality? Do they have fan fiction for that? Enforcements, Unholy Trinity, Dark Perk, and Cousin! From - Sat Jun 26 00:50:55 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10xhsa-0002dS-00; Fri, 25 Jun 1999 22:07:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0505; Fri, 25 Jun 99 22:06:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8064; Fri, 25 Jun 1999 22:06:07 -0400 Date: Fri, 25 Jun 1999 22:06:07 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: Ratpackery To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b189488b87fab36efac988a6edd6f06c The Ratpack will once again be headed (or is that tailed?) by John "Johnsie" Ewan and meself. Of course we are, as always, technically part of the Mercs until they figure out what exterminator to call. One thing all War players may want to remember is that the Ratpackers have tunnels all throughout Toronto, which can include your faction's headquarters - or anywhere you might be for that matter. All that we ask is that you let us know where our tunnels are Of course please don't place a tunnel in ANOTHER faction's headquarters unless it is already established there or you have their permission. --Libs/Libby Second in UNCommand ol the Ratpack LibRatsie@aol.com From - Sat Jun 26 00:51:04 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10xiEA-0003ME-00; Fri, 25 Jun 1999 22:29:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6031; Fri, 25 Jun 99 22:28:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9238; Fri, 25 Jun 1999 22:28:26 -0400 Date: Fri, 25 Jun 1999 19:28:56 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: StormBorn Subject: WAR: Inn of Crossed Swords To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 21ded033462b05837741bd190a4423c2 The Inn of Crossed Swords, a group for the appreciation of FK slash, will be temporarily relocated to Toronto for War 10. Inasmuch as the Inn can be said to have a 'leader'--we were set up to be pretty darned democratic--I guess I'm it. Myself (lipstickflash@uswest.net) and Laurie of the Isles (laudon@hotmail.com or laudon1228@yahoo.com) are heading up our war efforts. Our war page, such as it is, can be found at http://members.tripod.com/~StormBorn/toronto.htm Basically we're here to relax with a glass of the house special and contribute to the general mayhem. Molly/StormBorn Innmate/FKPagan/Cousin/Seducer/Ravenette/DT Listowner: Inn of Crossed Swords, FKWriters, EPeters lipstickflash@uswest.net http://members.tripod.com/~StormBorn/fk.htm From - Sat Jun 26 06:39:15 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10xnMW-0002Fl-00; Sat, 26 Jun 1999 03:58:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2405; Sat, 26 Jun 99 03:57:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3302; Sat, 26 Jun 1999 03:57:23 -0400 Date: Sat, 26 Jun 1999 02:07:33 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Cousin Mary Subject: WAR: The DP want you! To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 37c129b6dce7ca390b7a001377d06ef7 Greetings fellow war mongers and mongerettes! Today is indeed a good day to dye! *mary re-emerges with bright pink hair* Now that we have that taken care of, let's move on to the nitty gritty point of this post :) The Dark Perks, that oh so humble faction dedicated to the glories of Tracy Vetter's dark side, will of course be fighting in War 10 (try and stop us! Bwhahahahaha!) And using the ancient fighting arts we learned on late night cable TV, we expect to generally rule the world (hey, I said we were humble!) The DP War 10 page is located at: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Hollow/1228/dpwar10.htm And the contact addies for the DP's glorious and dentally hygienic leadership are: DP Leader: Cousin Mary - anteros@juno.com DP second-in-command: Cousin Shana - DPangel79@aol.com And we'd be pleased as spiked punch if you'd consider fighting as a Dark Perk hugs and hand grenades for all! Cousin Mary........ "The time has come," The Dark Perk said, "To speak of many things, of shiny guns and duffel bags, haunted mansions and coffee beans. And why the bunnies are all headless, and whether you take sugar or cream..." http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Hollow/1228/knightmares.html ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sun Jun 27 19:56:14 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10yLT1-0000HZ-00; Sun, 27 Jun 1999 16:23:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8551; Sun, 27 Jun 99 16:22:22 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7524; Sun, 27 Jun 1999 16:22:22 -0400 Date: Sun, 27 Jun 1999 16:23:26 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: Nunkies Anonymous To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f3601b2750d76cad4b5b3a65471f3356 Hello everyone, Nunkies Anonymous plans to participate as a faction in the proposed War 10. High Priestess Jules , Scribe Bonnie , NunkMommy Annie and Third Cousin Patt are going to co-lead whatever activities NA gets up to this time around. If you're planning to participate in the war as part of the Nunkies Anonymous team, you need to contact one of us for more information. Looking forward to sharing a skirmish with you. Patt--Third Cousin, twice removed on my Mother's Side, Defender of the Juled Crown, Keeper of the Krawfish, SPARKLER, Bearer of *the* Beer Bottle and Favored Twit. patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sun Jun 27 19:56:30 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10yNVZ-0003wY-00; Sun, 27 Jun 1999 18:34:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3236; Sun, 27 Jun 99 18:33:06 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4925; Sun, 27 Jun 1999 18:33:06 -0400 Date: Sun, 27 Jun 1999 17:34:27 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Kalira Isbell Subject: WAR: Dark Knighties? To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c18ce9cf2afe515022c32a4b3e9261e2 Has anyone offered to head up the Dark Knighties faction for this War? Kalira Dark Knightie, Caddywhack, Nick's Harem, FK Pagan, GWDFC, DMZ From - Sun Jun 27 19:56:44 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10yOLn-0005f0-01; Sun, 27 Jun 1999 19:28:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9550; Sun, 27 Jun 99 19:21:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9325; Sun, 27 Jun 1999 19:21:14 -0400 Date: Sun, 27 Jun 1999 18:18:58 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa Luksus Subject: Re: WAR: Dark Knighties? To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu In-Reply-To: <13610-3776A6F3-17612@postoffice-282.iap.bryant.webtv.net> Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 296c21548ad9b4b9507b92f3e1ca8795 At 05:34 PM 6/27/99 -0500, Kalira Isbell wrote: >Has anyone offered to head up the Dark Knighties faction for this War? At the moment, nobody's stepped up to bat for the DKs. Marcia Tucker won't be able to lead again, so the position's open. And I suppose this would be the time to mention the DK list, which would be a handy-dandy place to start strategizing. I'm the subscription contact for the list, so anybody who's interested, e-mail me off-list at tokaara@wans.net and we'll get you on. Of course, the DKs are welcome to play with the Cousins again, if that suits anybody's fancy. Tok and the kitties But the end is not goodbye Cousin / Dark Knightie The sun comes up, seasons change tokaara@wans.net Through it all, love remains ICQ #13050398 /AIM Tokaara An eternal burning flame in the lovely western suburbs of Chicago Hope lives on, love remains. From - Mon Jun 28 06:47:19 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10yVqG-0003S9-00; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 03:28:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9637; Mon, 28 Jun 99 03:27:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6800; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 03:27:03 -0400 Date: Mon, 28 Jun 1999 16:18:14 +0900 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Cousin Raven Subject: WAR: Enforcements To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d7f20736ed08550366a88c0b0c651d04 The Enforcements are participating in this war, if you're interested in joining us for it, the url for the main page is http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers and the subscription url is http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/enforcers Uphold the Code. Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) http://www.naturesong.com Be careful, I bite. Reality? Do they have fan fiction for that? From - Mon Jun 28 06:47:09 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10yTwD-0000uE-00; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 01:26:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6191; Mon, 28 Jun 99 01:25:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0867; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 01:25:04 -0400 Date: Sun, 27 Jun 2021 22:24:45 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Kyer en Ysh Subject: War: Euphoria staked. Safe to come out. To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7265deecbc1326bd886ed032f8e4954e Wha? August votes lookin' to be winning over September for the War by 2 to1? Which diety/vampire did I piss off this time?! Oh, Angst! Oh, Crud!!! Trapped for two weeks in the family minivan instead of getting attacked! Life is crroowell! so... these get held every year? Maybe I can make War 11... Grimaces, :(= Kyer, Loyal Squire(ette) to the Knight de Brabant; Knight de Soir, Cousin to the Knight, Schitzoid Knightie with Multi-Personalites who's having a blast and an angstfest at one and the same time. (More of the latter lately.) From - Mon Jun 28 06:47:08 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10yTjK-0007la-00; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 01:13:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6123; Mon, 28 Jun 99 01:11:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9898; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 01:11:43 -0400 Date: Sun, 27 Jun 1999 17:59:12 GMT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Mildred G.Cady" Subject: WAR: In order to serve you better... To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 30c5bd3f0bd919a1da2bcfc5a2564fd7 Greetings! My name is Mildred, and I'm the newly elected Merc Mommy General and (still) the Computer Genius for the most glorious and profitable Mercenary Guild. To assist you in contacting our services in the upcoming War, we have a webpage at www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Studio/1999 At this site we have profiles of Guild members which is being continually updated, including skills and payment suggestions. In order to assist the Mercs in helping you and your faction in it's endevors, we advise that a leader from each of the factions that are interested in participating in War 10 contact me (Mildred) with the name of your faction and the url of your faction's official webpage, so that the information that we provide to you and others will be current. Yours in War- Mine in Profit, Mildred G. Cady Merc Mommy General and Computer Genius _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Jun 28 20:40:37 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10ybyd-0007Qk-00; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 10:01:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1331; Mon, 28 Jun 99 09:50:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9639; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 09:50:51 -0400 Date: Mon, 28 Jun 1999 06:52:11 PDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Patrycja Zuk Subject: War question after a long silence.... To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cc0b761593d5c9baaac725828e589c49 Hey Folks!!! It has been a long time since I have written, or even checked my e-mail for the latest on FORKNI-L...trip to Europe made that a bit difficult! (not that I'm gloating or anything!!! *grins*) After reading the 800+ e-mails, well some of them, I realized that a WAR is a brewing...in the immediate future...so just a quick question - which factions are participating in the war...if anyone cares to reply, please do so to the list or to my e-mail...odoital@hotmail.com. Thanks for the help...and it's good to be back!!! Sorel Things fall apart; the center cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Mon Jun 28 20:40:40 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10ycJC-0000Tc-00; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 10:22:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8648; Mon, 28 Jun 99 10:12:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2632; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 10:12:59 -0400 Date: Mon, 28 Jun 1999 09:14:14 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Tina Subject: Re: WAR: Enforcements To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU In-Reply-To: <199906280728.CAA17917@adam.enteract.com> Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 909193fb75479f7ab6f6a467670ed9f5 On Mon, 28 Jun 1999, Cousin Raven wrote: > The Enforcements are participating in this war, if you're interested in > joining us for it, the url for the main page is What on earth faction are the Enforcements? Are they something about the Enforcers? Hmmm. I've been out of it for way too long. Tina NatPack From - Mon Jun 28 20:40:44 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10ycbW-0001DY-00; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 10:41:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1821; Mon, 28 Jun 99 10:39:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5671; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 10:39:03 -0400 Date: Mon, 28 Jun 1999 10:36:17 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: E McCann Subject: Re: WAR: Enforcements To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU In-Reply-To: <199906281422.KAA24228@iag.net> Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f7b2c29763eef0edecf35270c259c8a9 On Mon, 28 Jun 1999, Tina wrote: > > The Enforcements are participating in this war, if you're interested in > > joining us for it, the url for the main page is > What on earth faction are the Enforcements? Are they something about the > Enforcers? Breath mints for Enforcers. (ducking) -E McCann emccann@iag.net From - Mon Jun 28 20:42:59 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10yk27-0007Ai-00; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 18:37:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4535; Mon, 28 Jun 99 18:36:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8877; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 18:36:12 -0400 Date: Tue, 29 Jun 1999 07:37:26 +0900 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Cousin Raven Subject: Re: WAR: Enforcements To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2121e872bf2a84862ce8fc3f999f891c >> What on earth faction are the Enforcements? Are they something about the >> Enforcers? >Breath mints for Enforcers. (ducking) *throws garlic spray and flaming popsicle sticks* Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) http://www.naturesong.com We are the enforcements, resistance is futile, you will be silenced. From - Mon Jun 28 20:42:29 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10yjWZ-0003Xn-00; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 18:05:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4216; Mon, 28 Jun 99 17:59:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4327; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 17:59:39 -0400 Date: Mon, 28 Jun 1999 18:02:52 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Mary Combs Subject: Re: WAR: Enforcements To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1bb566afefac86c417dafedda51a5308 E McCann wrote: > On Mon, 28 Jun 1999, Tina wrote: > > What on earth faction are the Enforcements? Are they something about the > > Enforcers? > Breath mints for Enforcers. (ducking) > Oh my, all I can see/hear is that fearsome fanged duo growling the Doublemint jingle.... ----- Mary mcombs@erols.com N&Npacker From - Mon Jun 28 20:43:10 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10yl3m-0001sv-00; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 19:43:34 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5121; Mon, 28 Jun 99 19:42:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6247; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 19:42:01 -0400 Date: Mon, 28 Jun 1999 16:41:42 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: StormBorn Subject: Re: War question after a long silence.... To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0dc07039537e5664208ec0eff2241f6c I'm happy to say that the Inn of Crossed Swords, which is not a faction, but a group for the enjoyment of FK slash fiction (any characters), will be warring this time around--in between glasses of the house special and perusal of the dessert cart, that is. :) Our war page is at http://members.tripod.com/~StormBorn/toronto.htm . Looking forward to it! Molly/StormBorn Innmate/FKPagan/Cousin/Seducer/Ravenette/DT Listowner: Inn of Crossed Swords, FKWriters, EPeters lipstickflash@uswest.net http://members.tripod.com/~StormBorn/fk.htm From - Mon Jun 28 23:04:10 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10ymh2-0005vJ-00; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 21:28:12 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5801; Mon, 28 Jun 99 21:26:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5096; Mon, 28 Jun 1999 21:26:41 -0400 Date: Mon, 28 Jun 1999 18:28:01 PDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR: Nothers' First War Appearance To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f77e16be9b5f4c2a9c4e51a252addd64 Okay, so when War got announced, a small group os us at le Chateau thought it would be really cool to play in the War. So, I got volunteered to be the War leader, since I'm also the faction's co-founder. Wait a minute? What faction, you say? Why, Nothers, of course? You're new, you say? You've heard of DP's, and knighties, and the N&Npack, but what in FK-dom is a Nother? Nothers is a group of fans who have thought about Nat being in a relationship with someone *other than* Nick, LaCroix, Schanke, Reese, Janette, or... Screed, etc. Our "Others" are usually crossover characters from other shows or characters of our own creation. Nothers is a new faction, formed this past winter. Our website, which is in a constant state of construction right now, is housed at http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Studio/4588. What else about Nothers? We "live" in an old chateau (Chateau des Autres), which hopefully by War-time will be an up-and-running vacattin resort for the entire FK-fandom. If you'd like to join the Nothers for the War (or for any other time, even), sign up for our onelist list through the above website link. or go directly to the War Room: http://egroups.com/groups/nothers-war and sign up there. Or... if by chance you'd like to stage a skirmish, attack or any fun thing with Nothers for the war, you may reach us at nothers-war@egroups.com Wishing everyone a Happy War 10! Fleurette Nothers War Leader War 10 fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Jun 29 17:21:53 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10yw8U-0007CB-00; Tue, 29 Jun 1999 07:33:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4585; Tue, 29 Jun 99 07:31:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1890; Tue, 29 Jun 1999 07:31:40 -0400 Date: Tue, 29 Jun 1999 06:33:00 CDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: From The War Office - Official War Dates To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3c863b3800f79ef5ce5a33d568527608 Hello, After counting, sorting and sifting the votes, the official dates for Forever Knight War #10 will be Friday August 13th Through Friday August 27th 1999. In order to help keep a consistant time zone schedule, U.S. Central Time will be used when referring to any, and all times. Final posts should be posted no later than Midnight on Friday August 27th, with the initial post dropping late Thursday night and the war officially starting early Friday Morning on August 13th. This should give everyone time to start their initial posting and planning throughout that Friday (August 13th) and on through the weekend. The War Faction Leader list will be setup later this week, with those who have submitted their permission slips as faction leaders, and any who submit them added as we get them. Minor vampires have, in the past, been used on a "as called" basis, meaning that someone posts to the list that they plan to use a particular character at such and such a time, to allow anyone else to use that character when their done. This tends to cut down on characters being in two places at once. IF you opt to start a faction for a particular character, please let us know so that the faction can be listed properly with the correct contact names. New factions *are* subject to review by the WM. An alternate web site is in progress for those on AOL as well as those who have trouble with Javascript. A text version should be available within a week or so as the site is built. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Jun 29 17:23:20 1999 Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10z27Z-00066Q-00; Tue, 29 Jun 1999 13:56:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8222; Tue, 29 Jun 99 13:47:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8798; Tue, 29 Jun 1999 13:47:24 -0400 Date: Tue, 29 Jun 1999 12:46:43 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Terri A Wadsworth Subject: War: Calling All Knighties! To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9fd5e62b179de7c2be581027dcc0b704 Hi Y'all! The Knighties will be playing as a faction in the upcoming war. Right now, the leadership is being decided on by an election. However, if you are devoted to Nick Knight (or even if you aren't) and wish to ally yourself with Nick and his Knighties you are most welcome to send in your permission slips NOW to Nancy Taylor (nat1228@home.com), me (eowyn3@juno.com) or Katrinka (katrinka@flash.net). They will be forwarded to the Knightie leadership when it is decided and then on to the War Office. Please come and join us! Terri Eowyn3@juno.com or Eowyn@wcc.net GWDFC, Ecstatic G-IV Attendee, Proud Survivor of Wars 8&9, TKD, FKXS She can be taught! But only in little bytes! ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Tue Jun 29 20:10:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10z6nA-0001JV-00; Tue, 29 Jun 1999 18:55:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5348; Tue, 29 Jun 99 18:54:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5919; Tue, 29 Jun 1999 18:54:00 -0400 Date: Tue, 29 Jun 1999 16:55:26 -0600 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: k'kimmer Subject: WAR: War 10 & The Ravenettes To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e96901443bc163f78aef59c34a4e46cf hello everyone! i was wondering if anyone wanted to play in War 10 as a raven or ravenette. we are a Janette faction. we were a very small faction in War 9, but we had a lot of fun and would like to do so again. please contact me if you are interested in playing. thanks! kimmer at tbpete@oneimage.com From - Thu Jul 01 06:56:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10zYd7-0002lb-00; Thu, 01 Jul 1999 00:39:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2910; Thu, 01 Jul 99 00:35:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4645; Thu, 1 Jul 1999 00:35:21 -0400 Date: Wed, 30 Jun 1999 23:36:42 CDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: Admin: FKWar10 Leadership List Update X-To: forkni-l@lists.psu.edu To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cbaadacbd5e994c22df7e6928c35fb84 Good Evening, The Forever Knight War #10 Leadership lists have been setup, and will be open for more members as factions are setup. If you are a faction leader, and did not recieve a notice of your subscription, please contact us, (with your permission slip and affiliation) and we will add you to the lists. When responding to this note, *please* do not respond to *this* list but to *our* address at: fkwarlocks@egroups.com We do apologize for sending this to both lists, and if we missed someone along the way. The web page updates are in process and should be updated by next week. An alternate site has been setup and is in the process of being fine-tuned to allow textual reading for those with older browsers, and should allow for minimal advertising. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Thu Jul 01 06:56:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 10zYah-0002gA-00; Thu, 01 Jul 1999 00:36:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9544; Thu, 01 Jul 99 00:35:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4631; Thu, 1 Jul 1999 00:35:20 -0400 Date: Wed, 30 Jun 1999 23:36:42 CDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: Admin: FKWar10 Leadership List Update X-To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: eedd2a048961cd7941b78cce166b972a Good Evening, The Forever Knight War #10 Leadership lists have been setup, and will be open for more members as factions are setup. If you are a faction leader, and did not recieve a notice of your subscription, please contact us, (with your permission slip and affiliation) and we will add you to the lists. When responding to this note, *please* do not respond to *this* list but to *our* address at: fkwarlocks@egroups.com We do apologize for sending this to both lists, and if we missed someone along the way. The web page updates are in process and should be updated by next week. An alternate site has been setup and is in the process of being fine-tuned to allow textual reading for those with older browsers, and should allow for minimal advertising. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Jul 02 17:09:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 1109YT-0004nt-00; Fri, 02 Jul 1999 16:05:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3607; Fri, 02 Jul 99 15:55:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2316; Fri, 2 Jul 1999 15:55:23 -0400 Date: Thu, 1 Jul 1999 23:13:54 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa Luksus Subject: Re: War To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu In-Reply-To: <1ed5a6dc.24aaf148@aol.com> Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a37e82da55770e450cda11cb38c0323a At 12:04 AM 6/30/99 -0400, Joie Ross wrote: >Will the Cousins or Dark Knighties be playing as a faction ? The Cousins are, definitely. I don't think a decision's been made yet for the Dark Knighties. Tok and the kitties But the end is not goodbye Cousin / Dark Knightie The sun comes up, seasons change tokaara@wans.net Through it all, love remains ICQ #13050398 /AIM Tokaara An eternal burning flame in the lovely western suburbs of Chicago Hope lives on, love remains. From - Sat Jul 03 10:15:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 110JfU-0001t4-00; Sat, 03 Jul 1999 02:52:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4183; Sat, 03 Jul 99 02:51:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9324; Sat, 3 Jul 1999 02:51:19 -0400 Date: Sat, 3 Jul 1999 02:52:34 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: Unnamed Faction To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d022423ef1598e3ceb4d6ce5735f88a0 The Unnamed Faction (which, in keeping with its name, tends in time of War to also be somewhat UnOrganized ... Er, I meant to say, organizationally challenged ...) will participate in War 10. Les GrantSmith at looscann@sprynet.com and Julia at JKocich@aol.com will be leading the charge. If you'd like to play with us ... oh, all right, war with us, please contact either Les or me. Now ... *who* was it who brainwashed me in the last War, eh? Best, Julia JKocich@aol.com From - Sat Jul 03 10:15:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 110JiL-0000ap-00; Sat, 03 Jul 1999 02:55:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4188; Sat, 03 Jul 99 02:54:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9394; Sat, 3 Jul 1999 02:54:18 -0400 Date: Sat, 3 Jul 1999 02:55:24 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Melissa McFarlin Subject: Re: WAR: Unnamed Faction To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c80e083a46e93eef75b8232851b81ba8 In a message dated 7/3/99 1:53:00 AM Central Daylight Time, JKocich@AOL.COM writes: << Now ... *who* was it who brainwashed me in the last War, eh? >> Ummm speaking of War 9 is it archived anywhere? Melissa Vaquera From - Sat Jul 03 10:15:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 110K1a-0000tO-00; Sat, 03 Jul 1999 03:15:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7199; Sat, 03 Jul 99 03:14:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9948; Sat, 3 Jul 1999 03:14:13 -0400 Date: Sat, 3 Jul 1999 01:15:37 MDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Meg Anderson Subject: Re: WAR: Unnamed Faction To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3a8f1e2d9d71fd41eab6cb69cbe2d18e >Ummm speaking of War 9 is it archived anywhere? Yup! It's at http://www.geocities.com/Athens/7139/war9ldrs.htm#war9_archives Meg, aka The Littlest Natpacker ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Mon Jul 05 11:20:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 1112S4-0002SI-00; Mon, 05 Jul 1999 02:42:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6593; Mon, 05 Jul 99 02:40:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0587; Mon, 5 Jul 1999 02:40:28 -0400 Date: Sun, 4 Jul 1999 23:42:33 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knightie PERMISSION SLIPS X-To: Knighties@onelist.com To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 515b732c77d89f7f21e65a82229a5ec9 Come on, Knighties! Send in those permission slips NOW! We need: 1) Your real name 2) The name you'd like to use in the war (if different from the above -- many people have Internet nicknames) 3) A statement saying you give your permission to be written into the war stories Send your slips to: Nancy -or- Terri -or- Katrinka (You need only send them to ONE of us! ) We will see that the slips are turned into the War Mistress/Master, and forwarded to the new Knightie leadership, when decided. THANKS! Nancy War 10 -- Knightie Co-Leader From - Mon Jul 05 21:11:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 111JUl-0006yv-00; Mon, 05 Jul 1999 20:53:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2083; Mon, 05 Jul 99 20:52:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3013; Mon, 5 Jul 1999 20:52:24 -0400 Date: Mon, 5 Jul 2021 17:51:44 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Kyer en Ysh Subject: War: Need info on Inca character To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 48d4ffdf361181226c17a1458b053f7d I want to do one *very short* (and quite harmless) post at the start of War 10 that will also have the Inca in it. Who do I contact to get permission? Do I *need* permission? I don't want to upset any Incarnates out there. Kyer From - Tue Jul 06 17:44:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 111LSl-0002tT-00; Mon, 05 Jul 1999 23:00:03 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6373; Mon, 05 Jul 99 22:57:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1437; Mon, 5 Jul 1999 22:57:27 -0400 Date: Mon, 5 Jul 1999 21:04:50 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: Calling all FoD's To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 397aea7a49a8eb54df761c5ccf1d012c Hi Guys, Yep the Deli is once again open for the upcoming War.:-) All FoD's who want to participate please email me off list with your permission slips. Cindy Brewer cindybre@inwave.com FoD war leader,Knightie,FFF,WWGer2 survivor,Vaquera "They made me forget and that's all I remember."Schanke,Close Call From - Tue Jul 06 17:44:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 111TIE-0006c4-00; Tue, 06 Jul 1999 07:21:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4865; Tue, 06 Jul 99 07:20:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7789; Tue, 6 Jul 1999 07:20:07 -0400 Date: Tue, 6 Jul 1999 06:21:31 CDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: War:, Usage, Of, Inca, character To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ad2d2cea91fbfc97d12d5b9449293c51 Hello, For usage of a non factioned character(s), usually all that is required is an announcement to the list (please remember to post such announcements with the WAR: heading) that you are planning to use the character at a certain time and place for a certain length of time. This could allow someone else, per coordinated agreement, to work your scene into theirs if they wanted to, and you agreed with it. An example would be someone witnessing your scene or part from a distance, or actually taking an indirect part in it. If the character(s) in question do have a representative faction, it is best to consult with their leadership and get permission before using the character. If a dispute over the usage of a character comes about, the WM may be consulted to decide who had the right to use the character at that particular time and place (this hasn't happened a whole lot that we know of, as most participants are willing to share and coordinate resources). If you are unsure of the character(s) in question and their status with a representative, please feel free to contact the WM. Within the week, the war page will have the declared factions listed along with their representatives (to this point). As existing factions or new factions are declared, they will be added as we go along. A deadline will be declared for declaration of a faction, most likely set sometime about a week before the war. Once the war is started, faction creation may be deferred until after the war. Creation of ALL new factions for the coming war are only allowed after review and approval of the WM. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Jul 06 19:16:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 111ePx-0001zv-00; Tue, 06 Jul 1999 19:14:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8162; Tue, 06 Jul 99 19:12:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0313; Tue, 6 Jul 1999 19:12:38 -0400 Date: Tue, 6 Jul 1999 16:14:44 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knightie Permission Slips To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a752933bcaf08b86474b76938d0f4b02 Come on, Knighties! So far our turnout is woefully small. We need our experienced players and fresh new blood. Please turn in your permission slips ASAP to play with our group. Nancy War 10 -- Knightie Co-Leader From - Wed Jul 07 03:40:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 111kJ4-0004Ks-00; Wed, 07 Jul 1999 01:31:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3933; Wed, 07 Jul 99 01:29:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7024; Wed, 7 Jul 1999 01:29:56 -0400 Date: Wed, 7 Jul 1999 01:07:56 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: You have to be yourself X-To: FK To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 430f12707a6c8145eb6b931de75500f3 Guys, please remember that out wars are not rpgs. You write yourself. Maybe a joking version of yourself, but yourself. That is, your physical description is yourself, not a character's, and your skills and resources are yours, too. It's not a case of picturing a character. You're basically yourself or a caricature. For instance, I don't really drink like a fish and I've never really thought I was a cat, with or without a blow on the head. :) Unless you really are a martial arts expert and professional computer security specialist, you can't be either of these things. (You could, however, have an unusually good laptop, because that's possible in real life. Just please, no Cray supercomputers. ) You can't have any powers a mortal doesn't have, and you can't be anything but a mortal. Unless you actually are very rich, you need some explanation if you're going to throw money around (write yourself as winning the lottery, hit it rich in the stock market That kind of thing.) Just making sure we're all clear on this. Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Wed Jul 07 19:24:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11210I-0003Kd-00; Wed, 07 Jul 1999 19:21:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9799; Wed, 07 Jul 99 19:19:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9382; Wed, 7 Jul 1999 19:19:52 -0400 Date: Wed, 7 Jul 1999 17:40:52 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: Joining the Cousins To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu In-Reply-To: Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a3cde01f973c929d2ef8a66e0cd82aef At 11:37 PM 7/6/99 -0400, Joie Ross wrote: >Cool so how exactly do I go about joining up with the cousins this war? To play with the Cousins in War 10, all you have to do is send your permission slip to me, Cousin Tok (tokaara@wans.net). We'll have a War discussion list going soon. In the meantime, check out FKWarlock's War page at http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html for the format of the permission slips (although I'd also include your real name -- we don't have to publicize it, but I think it's a requirement) and other useful info. =20 Cousin Tok=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0 But the= end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0 The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0 Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net =A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0 An eternal burning flame ICQ #13050398 / AIM Tokaara=A0=A0 Hope lives on, love remains.=20 From - Sat Jul 10 08:48:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 112pBi-00051j-00; Sat, 10 Jul 1999 00:56:34 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8141; Sat, 10 Jul 99 00:54:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0553; Sat, 10 Jul 1999 00:54:57 -0400 Date: Fri, 9 Jul 1999 22:48:58 -0600 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: kimberly Subject: WAR: ravenettes faction changes for WAR 10 To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cfb82b9add8004c3acd867aaa12e089c hello all War-subbers! the ravenettes faction has decided that it will be for those aged 13 and over. if you are at least 13 years old and are interested in playing in war 10 as a raven/ravenette, please sub to our war list. http://www.onelist.com the list is ravenettes@onelist.com thank you for your interest! kimberly at tbpete@oneimage.com From - Mon Jul 12 06:21:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 113WXh-0004QT-00; Sun, 11 Jul 1999 23:14:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3871; Sun, 11 Jul 99 23:12:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3863; Sun, 11 Jul 1999 23:12:33 -0400 Date: Sun, 11 Jul 1999 12:31:16 -0400 Reply-To: Soulseeker Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Soulseeker Subject: War: N&NPack To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 514f204a87f3fc531cc9529eb934deb1 If you are interested in playing with the N&NPack during War 10 then please contact me ASAP. Thanks.:) SOULSEEKER soulseeker@sprint.ca * soulseeker1@acmecity.com N&NPack Faction Leader-*-Lonely Hearts Co Faction Leader Mortal Love: http://tv.acmecity.com/tvthemes/136/ From - Tue Jul 13 06:24:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 113sdL-0003iG-00; Mon, 12 Jul 1999 22:49:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9215; Mon, 12 Jul 99 22:47:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2791; Mon, 12 Jul 1999 22:47:48 -0400 Date: Mon, 12 Jul 1999 22:50:08 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Light Cousins X-cc: dollhouse@prodigy.net To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e14d505837edfd0e1c8c016336039861 The Light Cousins are going to be participating in war 10. If you're interested in playing along with us, please contact either Arletta Asbury at g4akl@charm.net or Annette Williams at dollhouse@prodigy.net for more info. Arletta Asbury g4akl@charm.net war leader of the Light Cousins From - Tue Jul 13 18:32:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 1142oT-0006A5-00; Tue, 13 Jul 1999 09:41:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7873; Tue, 13 Jul 99 09:39:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0115; Tue, 13 Jul 1999 09:39:58 -0400 Date: Tue, 13 Jul 1999 09:40:40 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Casting T. F. Stone" Subject: Re: WAR: Go where everybody knows your name (The Raven) To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ad76847c429cd7ee1e1878a2f46fe127 To anyone "on the fence" about playing, If you have never played in a War before and want to play but are a bit overwhelmed, I do recommend The Ravenettes. I played in my first war with this relatively small (but stylish) group. Small group means you get plenty of opporitunities to participate and learn. And you do get free drinks at the bar. Casting T. F. Stone Revenettes / Raven Mad - Remember us? We shaved your head in War 9 Har! Har! From - Tue Jul 13 19:24:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@iglou.com Received: from [209.207.164.237] (helo=onelist.com) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 114Bpw-0001y5-00; Tue, 13 Jul 1999 19:19:44 -0400 Received: (qmail 15283 invoked by alias); 13 Jul 1999 23:19:37 -0000 Received: (qmail 15208 invoked from network); 13 Jul 1999 23:19:35 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO imo26.mx.aol.com) (198.81.17.70) by pop.onelist.com with SMTP; 13 Jul 1999 23:19:35 -0000 Received: from AC82delf@aol.com by imo26.mx.aol.com (IMOv20.21) id hQDNa24566 (14391) for ; Tue, 13 Jul 1999 19:18:26 -0400 (EDT) From: AC82delf@aol.com Message-ID: Date: Tue, 13 Jul 1999 19:18:23 EDT To: NNPack@onelist.com X-Mailer: AOL 4.0 for Windows 95 sub 13 Mailing-List: list NNPack@onelist.com; contact NNPack-owner@onelist.com Delivered-To: mailing list NNPack@onelist.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Reply-to: NNPack@onelist.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Subject: [NNPack] Re: War X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: efa487c0a06de7b665d29009837be633 From: AC82delf@aol.com << Message: 12 Date: Mon, 12 Jul 1999 02:57:05 EDT From: Maelynd31@aol.com Subject: Re: War I tried to send a note in; apparently, it got through, or went into cyberspace or something, because I never got any kind of response! I hope there's still time to join in........ I sent in a note to join about a week and a half ago or so...... Angela >> I wrote too....much more recently but my mail is rather messed up. If you by chance didn't get mine I DID SEND IT. Is anyone else having a bunch of mail problems especially our fellow aol users? A bunch of my mailings are being lost and I only got three digests since June 25th (i think). I'm sending this multiple times just in case it disapeers. Pardon any repete messages. Amanda B. who is very annoyed by her present server --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- Immerse yourself in a seamless world of fearsome monsters, mystery and enchantment! Join The Science Fiction Book Club® and get 5 books for $1 + 1 free with membership! http://www.onelist.com/ad/doubleday6 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ From - Wed Jul 14 20:32:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 114ZHu-0006QH-00; Wed, 14 Jul 1999 20:22:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8911; Wed, 14 Jul 99 20:17:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6630; Wed, 14 Jul 1999 20:17:18 -0400 Date: Wed, 14 Jul 1999 17:18:55 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knightie Permission Slips X-To: Knighties@onelist.com To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 882a7ba6d238cfa5df5f17372049ea79 If you want to play with the Knightie faction this war, we need your permission slips ASAP. Please send them directly to me and I will see that they get to the War Master. Thanks! Hope to see more of you there! Nancy War 10 -- Knightie 2IC and backup leader From - Sun Jul 18 16:08:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 115x9N-00068B-00; Sun, 18 Jul 1999 16:03:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4241; Sun, 18 Jul 99 16:01:25 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2825; Sun, 18 Jul 1999 16:01:25 -0400 Date: Sun, 18 Jul 1999 16:05:09 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Mary Combs Subject: Re: WAR To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: dad4d2a5c5f0120d6ccb44093ff994be The War10 Warmaster's site will tell you everything you want to know. http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html ----- Mary mcombs@erols.com N&Npacker From - Tue Jul 27 18:48:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 119Atv-0003oI-00; Tue, 27 Jul 1999 13:20:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8051; Tue, 27 Jul 99 13:16:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0167; Tue, 27 Jul 1999 13:16:01 -0400 Date: Tue, 27 Jul 1999 12:12:51 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: Cousins permission slips, again To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c894eb95d0ed55cdba3b75d04649566d Would anybody who has submitted a permission slip to play with the Cousins in War 10 please contact me at tokaara@wans.net to make sure I've received it? If it was sent to the list instead of to me personally, I may not have seen it. I've been informed that apparently I've missed at least a couple. = =20 Cousin Tok=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0 But the= end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0 The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0 Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net =A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0=A0 An eternal burning flame ICQ #13050398 / AIM Tokaara=A0=A0 Hope lives on, love remains.=20 From - Tue Jul 27 18:49:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 119COV-0000q9-00; Tue, 27 Jul 1999 14:56:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4277; Tue, 27 Jul 99 14:54:06 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7435; Tue, 27 Jul 1999 14:54:06 -0400 Date: Tue, 27 Jul 1999 14:53:28 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Charlotte Sigmann Subject: WAR: Die Hards? To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 837b7ad57f82ce7210c87c3db5fdb824 I have been totally out of it becuase of a lot of personal stuff, but Hey Die Hards!!!!! Is you playing? Can I play too? Charl From - Fri Jul 30 07:01:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11AALK-0006jR-00; Fri, 30 Jul 1999 06:56:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3943; Fri, 30 Jul 99 06:54:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8998; Fri, 30 Jul 1999 06:54:55 -0400 Date: Fri, 30 Jul 1999 03:56:35 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: Admin: Faction Declaration and Permission Slip Deadlines X-To: Forkni-l@lists.psu.edu To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9c12d1f3ab0092040a8e7f6fe21fd8b3 Hello, The deadline for declaring your faction and sending in permission slips will be Tuesday August 10th, 1999. Slips should be sent to fkwarlocks@egroups.com A compiled list of slips recieved should be available by late that Sunday or early Monday (August 8th and 9th), prior to the deadline. In order to participate in the war you MUST submit a permission slip. Slips recieved after the deadline will be accepted or discounted as per the decision of the WarMaster. If there are any questions, or concerns, please send them to fkwarlocks@egroups.com If you would like to declare a faction and gather participants for your faction, and have not already done so, please begin as soon as possible and let us know. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sun Aug 01 11:42:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Aw1X-0000Dk-00; Sun, 01 Aug 1999 09:51:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7795; Sun, 01 Aug 99 09:48:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5895; Sun, 1 Aug 1999 09:48:47 -0400 Date: Sun, 1 Aug 1999 23:50:26 +1000 Reply-To: TALIESYN@C031.AONE.NET.AU Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Alexander J. Braun" Organization: access one Subject: War: question To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d914ce95cb635ec0e029dd77e5cb021d Questions re writing for the FK War. 1. What's the weather like in Toronto in middle to late August. 2. What's the name of Toronto's International airport. 3. What's the address of the Raven night club(From what Ep's I've seen it isn't stated). 4. The distance of the Airport to the city centre. Sorry if some of this has been already hashed through. -- Alex Braun - Taliesyn@c031.aone.net.au ICQ # 12610993 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe". Marcus, B5 From - Wed Aug 11 01:19:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11EQHb-0001eP-00; Wed, 11 Aug 1999 00:46:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3323; Wed, 11 Aug 99 00:44:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4666; Wed, 11 Aug 1999 00:44:31 -0400 Date: Tue, 10 Aug 1999 21:46:16 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: History, Premise and Some Food For Thought To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e05c38e477f0b8d1b5f681e8a3b94d13 ADMIN NOTE: This SHOULD NOT be considered an opening post in any way, shape, or form, but merely a method to help prepare those who will be participating in the coming war. Any comments on content, interpretation, or questions should be directed *OFF LIST* to fkwarlocks@egroups.com. Hello, We thought that participants in the coming war would enjoy a bit of historical perspective on the plot, however accurate it may or may not be, it should help many understand what has and will transpire. Earlier we released a note regarding some food for thought and discovered that interpretation is nine tenths of understanding something. Unfortunately, several people interpreted something we said to mean something we did not intend, nor did we realize would be interpreted in that way. Be that as it may, the following will hopefully give those participating something of a klew as to what to expect and hopefully will heal any wounds that were unintentionally inflicted earlier. There are a few sayings that we thought were appropriate and still feel apply here. We have hopefully corrected a misquote that may have caused a lot of grief along the way. Things to bear in mind: Be very careful what you wish for, for what you receive in return may not be what you really wanted. Heaven hath no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. There is nothing that holds two people together for an eternity more so than the bonds of Love. Revenge is a dish best served cold. So without further delay, War 10 Plot Historical Perspective: ADMIN NOTE: This SHOULD NOT be considered an opening post in any way, shape, or form, but merely a method to help prepare those who will be participating in the coming war. Any comments on content, interpretation, or questions should be directed *OFF LIST* to fkwarlocks@egroups.com. Scotland, late 1100s Land Baron Angus O'Rourke is betrothed to a Scottish wife to seal a deal with an English King who wishes to rid Scotland of its people and pride. By taking lands from Scots and giving it to wealthy English and Irish supporters, he hoped to cleans the land using blood. Unable to conceive heirs, and not wanting to show weakness, O'Rourke sought out the great Mage Galen to help him establish a family. The great master moved to the estate and soon set into motion events that would change the future of Scotland, as well as scar the Baron's family for an eternity. A young maiden was born unto the Baron and his wife, unfortunately taking the life of the wife in the process during child birth. Noted by many, but ignored for the sake of propriety, was the likeness of the maiden both to her mother and father as well as to that of the great master. Years of peace and prosperity allowed the lands of O'Rourke to prosper as the maiden passed from a girl to a young woman and the great master bided his time, hidden away in his private domain and sanctuary granted to him by the grateful O'Rourke. Trade from afar brought many treasures and tales of mystique to the city as well as travelers who brought evil as well as goods. In her sixteenth year of life, the young maiden met and fell under the spell of one particular tradesman, claiming to be from the land of Sicily and who also suffered from an affliction that made him shy away from the warmth of the sun. Her heart placed in his hands, the two young lovers soon began to make plans for a life together as her father started to hear unsettling rumors about the traveler and several of his companions. Making his way to the great master, the Baron pleaded for him to intervene once again. Although unplanned, this proved to be the time the great master had been waiting for. He soon spent considerable time observing and gathering information about the young man, only to discover his true nature and his probable plans for the young maiden. Conjuring up an icon and binding it with spells of old, the great master gave the Baron a cube to help "cure" the young man of his affliction. He explained that for two weeks the young man (he used the term lightly and with an smile that made the Baron uneasy) would appear normal and would not be "afflicted" as he had once been. The start of the spell had to occur at midnight on a night of a full moon that would have another full moon within two weeks following. Such a rare occurrence just happened to be forecast for that exact month. A deal was struck that if the plan were to succeed, the maiden would become the pupil of the master and be taken away from the land of her father for her own safety and well being, given that the great master knew of the terrible wars that would come and the value that would be placed on children of royalty as pawns. Along with the icon were several key elements that when combined would make up a staff on which the icon would ultimately be placed. Each element would be given to friends of the young man, mortal and immortal alike, who would in turn need to give them to the young man without any equivocation or hesitation of any kind at the end of the two week period. It was a firm belief, at that time, that creatures like the young man in question, truly did not know either friendship or love of family. The master explained that at the end of the two week period, if the elements were not combined and the icon placed on the staff, the cure would revert only for the person who had activated the icon, causing him, or her, to show their true nature in all its monstrous glory. However, if the icon were placed on the staff at the midnight hour of the second full moon, all who had been converted would be changed back to their prior form without incident. The friends were carefully chosen to be made up of the same blood line (a term that also brought the same strange smile to the master), as well as his closest friends. The icon itself was given to the maiden with the idea that it would cure her love and allow them to live a normal life. So it started, the young man using the icon to cure himself, quickly discovering that not only was he himself cured, but so were all those within a hundred miles who also suffered the same affliction. Great celebrations were held, and many who had not seen the sun for centuries walked in the warmth as mortals once again. Ironically, several vampires happened to visit the area during this time and observed the changes that had taken place. One of these visitors was a former Roman now known as Lucien LaCroix, who found the strange happening intriguing and began to pick up the pieces of what had taken place. He soon learned of the young couple in question and the sudden and "miraculous" cure that had been found. Suspicious of its source, and the exact nature of the "cure", he also learned of the great master and his involvement with the family in question. It was happenstance that brought him to the celebration held on the night of the second full moon, standing in the gallery as the young man waited at the base of the curved stair for the Baron to escort his daughter to his side and announce their engagement. The Midnight hour arrived as the pair began to descend the stairs. Knowing what would transpire the father had prepared several of his soldiers in the crowd. The men placed themselves loosely around the young man and patiently waited -- each fingering the crossbows hidden from view. Reaching the halfway mark, and pausing only slightly on the landing, the young woman was the first to notice as the her suitor suddenly doubled over and began to have convulsions. Screams were heard as the crowd moved away from the young man as he writhed on the floor. Rushing from her fathers side, the young woman approached her love, only to stop short when he turned to face her with golden eyes and extended fangs. As he started to leap for her, several bolts stopped him in his tracks as he fell to his knees and tried to remove them. The young woman broke out of her shock and raced to his side as he collapsed on the floor and became still. Tears of sadness soon turned to tears of rage as she suddenly realized the implications of the treachery. The bolts that had struck her love were not usually weapons of choice for such an event, but must have been used for a more specific purpose. Rising to her feet she turned to face her father who stood pale on the steps as he took in her bloodied dress. "You! Father!" she growled, raising her hand to point at the Baron. "You did this! But Why!?!" In the gallery, LaCroix saw the great master move silently to the young woman s side. He watched her turn out of his grasp as she slowly and purposely began to climb the stairs -- her back stiff with anger. The crowd gasped as she suddenly collapsed on the stair at her fathers feet and the great master moved to pick her up in his arms. "A sworn agreement has been fulfilled." He announced, turning for all to hear. His voice resonated across the hall, filling the sudden silence. Descending the stairs, he parted the crowd and disappeared into the night. Moving faster than any mortal, LaCroix also moved outside only to discover that the master had indeed vanished, taking the young woman with him. Returning to the hall, he joined the crowd around the fallen young man and soon discovered that the other members of the crowd who had once been immortal like himself were indeed still mortal while the young man had reverted and been killed. Spotting the icon on a chain around his neck, he snatched it and placed it in his pocket before rising and leaving the great hall. This was something he would attempt to learn more about for the next few centuries. Something that he knew was something to avoid. ---------------------------------------- 1999 Having heard the various legends of cures, Nick is suddenly presented with a chance to try one that had once reportedly worked, but had seemingly been lost over the centuries. Time unfortunately had faded the exact details of the story, and so it was that he knew of the icon but not it's curse. Attempting to activate the icon, he soon learns that he doesn't know the whole story and in time will need to get the other elements before the two weeks are up. Several factions will receive elements for the staff, each mysteriously given to a leader of the faction, without their knowing the story behind it. Each recipient will take a liking to the element and carry it with them, triggering various characters to realize the implication of the elements and the changes that have occurred. Undoubtedly, unaligned factions, or participants will also be able to discover the story of the icon during research as to probable causes of the changes. Web pages and other sources will conveniently appear that will help point them toward the story as needed. In his sudden euphoria at having succeeded at his quest, Nick will discover the icon he had used is now missing and he will have to search for it amongst the various elements that will be discovered. He will also need to convince the others to give them back to him by the end of the two week period and to give up their new found mortality. Elements will be given to those near friends of Nick, mortal friends such as Tracy, Nat, and Schanke, and immortals -- friend and family, such as Janette, LaCroix, Vachon, Urs, Divia and Screed. Once Nick has activated the Icon, as will have happened at the opening of the war, all vampires within a hundred square miles will suddenly become mortal, which will undoubtedly cause them to summon help to figure out what has transpired. It will be up to the participants to help them discover what happened and attempt to fix the problem. It may soon become apparent that someone has started the whole process in motion, but who? and for what purpose? Would he, could he, if he could? Would he, will he, if they asked? Would they, will they, want to change? Will we, should we, ask them to change? Does he, could he, say he knows of Love? Could he, does he, know that blood is thicker than water? Will he, could he, know the Love of friendship or family? This will be, should be, easily seen very soon. ADMIN NOTE: This SHOULD NOT be considered an opening post in any way, shape, or form, but merely a method to help prepare those who will be participating in the coming war. Any comments on content, interpretation, or questions should be directed *OFF LIST* to fkwarlocks@egroups.com. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 11 18:52:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11EXx5-000512-00; Wed, 11 Aug 1999 08:57:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4640; Wed, 11 Aug 99 08:55:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4630; Wed, 11 Aug 1999 08:55:55 -0400 Date: Wed, 11 Aug 1999 12:57:43 GMT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Mildred G. Cady" Subject: WAR: Hire the Best this War! X-To: fkwar10leaders@onelist.com, fkwar10leaders@eGroups.com To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 16bba719ac6a62b394b0afe65b8856f8 (sorry, forgot the subject header the first time... bad me) Ladies and Gentlemen, Vampires and Mortals... The Forever Knight Mercenaries are open for business for War 10! Our Motto: "Chocolate. Freedom. Mayhem for profit." Our Mission: To provide you with the best services negotiation can buy! Our Methods: Whatever we can come up with- but we're always open to suggestions! For six Wars in a row, the Mercs have been providing excellent service to the factions and members of the Forever Knight Fan Fiction universe... ...Why should this War be any different? Remember- there are two flavors of Mercenaries. There's your general stylish Mercenary- devious, creative, and oh-so-stylish. Then there are the Ratpackers- just as devious, a little bit rougher around the edges, but able to get into anything or annoy anyone with spectacular and sneaky techniques. Here are just a few examples of the many Merc talents: Planning a party? Hire a Merc Party Assistant to deliver the invitations in spectacular style. Need to get a particular person to a particular place so you can hold them for ransom? Hire a Merc Kidnapper to devise a way to get them there and Ratpackers to keep him or her amused in the meantime. Need someone to paint a vehicle an especially obnoxious color? Hire a Merc Artist that rivals any of the cubist, futurists, or symbolists! Or Ratsies that imitate Byzantine Mosaic artisans. Been attacked four times in a week and don't have the energy to retaliate? Hire a Merc Ninja to deliver a fitting reprisal. Does your favorite vampire-turned-mortal need a haircut (and you keep the clippings)? Hire a Merc Barber, cause you shouldn't trust anyone else. Want to serenade a faction with the wonderful strains of a particularly annoying filk? Hire a MercBard to write one and chortle at the resulting panic. Always wanted a painting from the Raven for your very own? Hire a Merc Burglar to acquire it for you. Trying to infiltrate another faction's war room? Hire the Merc Costume Mistress to provide a disguise that even your own mother wouldn't recognize you in. Is the quickest way from point A to target B through the slimiest sewer in Toronto? Hire a Ratpacker to show you the way. Need those people guarding their faction headquarters out of the way for the evening? Hire the Merc Event Planners to show a movie, or set up a lecture, that will guarantee that the place will be deserted. No job is too great or small- and remember that fees are always negotiable. Past forms of payment have included: chocolate, a lock of Nick Knight's hair, chocolate, the use of the Raven for three days as a hideout, chocolate, shiny pretty bits, chocolate, spare computer parts, chocolate, dinner at the Happy Souvlaki, chocolate. Hire the Best! No One Spreads Mayhem Like We Do!! To enlist the assistance of a Merc or Ratpacker, contact The Glorious Grand High Poobah Laurie MercBard or the Merc Mommy General and Computer Genius Mildred , and we will be most delighted to put you in contact with the best people for your job. ~Mildred G. Cady~ Merc Mommy General and Computer Genius --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- Transfer your big list to ONElist and earn $500! For program details, go to http://www.onelist.com/info/biglistbon_intro.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Forever Knight War #10 Official WebPage http://www.geocities.com/TelevsionCity/log/9868/index.html _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Thu Aug 12 18:25:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11F0Ld-0005Vm-00; Thu, 12 Aug 1999 15:17:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5870; Thu, 12 Aug 99 15:14:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3572; Thu, 12 Aug 1999 15:14:04 -0400 Date: Thu, 12 Aug 1999 12:15:47 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: WAR:Last minute research question To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ec9a0c92f58a07c6f8e6655c128aae8d Concerts are held at the Skydome, right? --- *EVIL* Cousin Tiff :^P Cousin and NAer first and foremost with an alarming number of DP tendencies. (ICQ# 21389965, AIM-"Willow042" -- say hi) *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Thu Aug 12 18:25:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11F20k-0002vS-00; Thu, 12 Aug 1999 17:03:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6782; Thu, 12 Aug 99 17:01:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7710; Thu, 12 Aug 1999 17:01:40 -0400 Date: Thu, 12 Aug 1999 17:12:29 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Marg Yamanaka Subject: Re: WAR:Last minute research question To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0081231723888d2444a39cdb4623a7f0 Evil Cousin Tiff wrote: > > Concerts are held at the Skydome, right? The big glitzy ones can be held at the Skydome. The preferred venue (better sound) is Massey Hall, across the street from the Eaton Centre. There's also the Opera House, the Music Hall, the el Mocambo and a gazillion smaller club venues. -- Marg in Toronto, the City of the Knight From - Fri Aug 13 07:09:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11F9T5-0000eD-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:01:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9623; Fri, 13 Aug 99 00:59:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6488; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 00:59:24 -0400 Date: Thu, 12 Aug 1999 22:01:13 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Administravia To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 79d2df2cc7ca2a59df598331076e4c01 Hello, Due to technical difficulties, the participant list will not be available until mid next week. It will appear as it is built, so please be patient. As is usual, a week with a Friday the 13th does bring problems... All e-mailed slips have been received and accepted. Please remember that to participate you MUST submit a permission slip to fkwarlocks@egroups.com Factions who have compiled their lists on web pages will have those accepted as they are, or in many cases as they were sent to us. Posting for War 10 may commence shortly when the opening post arrives. It is assumed that the next few days will be filled with fun of arrivals and discovery. We look forward to the fun, and we hope you will as well. PLEASE remember to have WAR: in your header with each post and try to keep each post under 500 lines per post. IF you have multiple posts that will be going out, please make your best effort to group the posts with some sort of delay between them to allow the list hamsters time to process them. Remember the goal is to have fun. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 07:09:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11F9Uf-0000h2-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:03:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7221; Fri, 13 Aug 99 01:01:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6601; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:01:01 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:00:02 -0400 Reply-To: ravenettes@onelist.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Caroline Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: Conversion: Part 01/01: 8-13-99 midnight To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a35809a6a7e2ddb1efffae24c2981b9b Conversion 01/01 by Caroline LaRoche Friday, Aug. 13, 1999 Minight >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The door gong caused me to mute the bar chord I was desperately trying to hold. Living on the 4th floor of DP Mansion, I didn't even think of bothering to open the door, someone would likely have already routed the visitor by the time I got down to the second floor. And the visitors were rarely for me, anyway. Unconcerned, I turned my attention back to my guitar and butchering the Bon Jovi I was trying to play. A knock interrupted a very sad rendition of "Wild is the Wind." Before I could reply, my door swung open, revealing one very attractive European vampire. "Miklos..." I grabbed a nearby towel to avoid drooling on my guitar. "Yes. Your presence is requested at the Raven." "Really?" I thought back to the last time I was there. They had had to unplug the sound system to shut me up. Clearly, Karaoke Night was *not* going to be a regular draw there. He nodded. "Wear something spectacular." "Why?" "Just do." An audience with Janette was all that *that* could mean. I pulled a formal black dress and heels out of my closet. "What does she want?" I asked, changing my clothes behind a screen. "She asks that you bring music and...weaponry." I laughed. "Literally, or would she like someone dead by my inability to shut up?" He shrugged. "She said.....she said you could have control of the...sound system," Miklos ended in a whisper. I smiled and grabbed my two bulging CD wallets. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> In spite of the relatively early hour, the Raven was almost deserted. Miklos led me behind the bar, back to the club's private rooms. This was an area I had never seen before. He left me in front of an office door, CDs in hand, gig case with guitar on my back. The momentary near silence was almost deafening. "Come in," the accented voice answered my knock. I opened the door on Janette's private office. It was decorated in the same dark, tasteful style as the rest of the club. The vampire sat behind a desk, clad in a stunning off the shoulder dress and gloves and nursing a glass of what could only be blood. My throat went suddenly dry; in spite of how I had tried to dress elegantly, I still felt like a street urchin in rags compared to the immortal. I slid the guitar off my shoulder. "You...wanted to see me?" "Oui. There is a war brewing, as I'm sure you're well aware." I nodded; the DPs had been planning strategies and attacks for the past few weeks. I hadn't intended to participate much, other than helping with the attacks. Strategy was not my strong point. I was more the provider of the battles' background music. "My faction is...small, only a few members. We want you." "Me? Why? I'm a Dark Perk." "I am aware. But you possess the style and darkness of a Ravenette. Why follow a blonde when you can have immortality on your side?" "Tracy won't drain me and dump the carcass in Lake Ontario if she gets upset." Janette laughed. "Your Thugs do not have Miklos, do they?" I was stuck, because deep down inside, I was a die-hard Mikie. Janette smiled at my inner conflict. I finally sighed and dropped my gig case and CDs on the nearly couch. "You win." "Ah, but the war has not yet started. The others will be here shortly. Have Miklos get you a drink." She waved away my protest. "I know you are only 18, but you are one of us. Order what you like. Non-alcoholic if that is your concern. When the others arrive," she narrowed her eyes and smiled a small smile, "*that* is when the real fun begins." ************************************* From - Fri Aug 13 07:09:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11F9jF-0006pz-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:18:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1060; Fri, 13 Aug 99 01:16:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7185; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:16:05 -0400 Date: Thu, 12 Aug 1999 22:17:51 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Opening Post: Winds Of War (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 33f4a12dd1ed6b69508616ac81fd098e Winds Of War Dedicated in loving memory to little boy named Brandon who liked stories of Warlocks and who in five years of life on this earth left all who knew him with memories for a lifetime... Warlocks never die, they just seem to fade away... WAR: ADMIN: OPENING POST (1/1) Somewhere in the greater Toronto Area, on Thursday Night... Polishing the bar, the coffee shop manager looked up to notice that night had finally fallen. Between vacations and sickness, his employees had been few and far between during the last few days of the work schedule. He also noticed that the three old men were still playing cards at the back table and was beginning to wonder if they realized that closing time was near. Normally he would hang around until all the patrons were done, but this night was going to end on time. Looking up at the clock, he realized he would have to give them only a few more minutes before kindly giving them the bad news. The cackle of laughter from the short one had started grating his nerves almost from the minute that they had arrived. Even now, he suspected that nasal sound would haunt him even after they were gone. ---------- "... and *then* they noticed the boiling oil!!" Nagis said gleefully, slapping his knee as the other two players simply rolled their eyes. Dukat frowned before gently moving his chips into a neater pile. "Be that as it may," he began, the smile he had formed not quite giving the comfort it would have normally given. "Are you in, or out Nagis? I'm sure Garak is losing patience as well as his chips." Nagis leaned conspiratorially toward Garak, whose eyes were recounting the chips in the pile. "I told you having him stay in his human form for this long would wear him down!!" This time Garak was the one being polite as he smiled and turned to the smaller man. "I'm afraid I must agree, time *is* getting to be of the essence, and *he* isn't the only one getting tired of looking human. Not to make any unnecessary puns, but it *is* getting old." Both players suffered through the roar of cackling and knee slapping before the small man laid his cards flat. "As you both seem intent on winning, my hand must not be as competitive as I thought." Dukat sighed as he waited for Garak to finish his calculations for the *third* time. "You know," he started. This human form he had taken *was* getting tiresome. "With the mention of boiling oil, you bring back pleasing memories of those dark ages when even the Pope had an army." Garak picked up a handful of chips and tossed them onto the pile. Perhaps he would be retrieving them back into his own pile shortly. "I see your bet and raise you ten thousand. By the way, speaking of the Pope's army, were you aware that we have our very own living, breathing crusader in town?" Dukat frowned as he readjusted his thoughts from plundering the pot to those of long ago. "If he's living and breathing, he can't be a crusader. See and raise ten more." "Well, actually now that you mention it, he did look a little pale." Garak said with a smile while he pondered his losses. "It brings to mind a game I once saw played." Dukat said, hoping to distract his opponent from his calculations. "Game?" Nagis piped up, boredom having taken its toll on his attention. "What kind of game?" "Welllll, more than a simple game I suppose..." he said ruefully, knowing he had at least hooked one of them. The night may prove profitable after all. Reaching into his pocket, he carefully pulled out a small box and laid it on the table in front of Nagis. The small man leaned forward and studied the box. He tentatively reached out and ran his fingers of the smooth surface. Able to see the embedded markings better from his angle, Garak's raised a brow. "That isn't..." "A Galen Cube?" Dukat said in feigned surprise. "Why yes! *How* did you know?" Garak looked up from the box and warily took in Dukat's smile. "I was under the impression that the last Cube that you speak of was discharged shortly after it was created." Dukat's smile grew as he watched the other two men examine the case. "Please, open it and look inside, it won't bite. I promise you that." Garak kept his hands well away from the box as Nagis lifted the lid back and set it on the table. Inside the box, surrounded by red velvet, was a hexagonal Cube split into three sections. Symbols etched in gold and silver were inlaid and matched up against one another across the seams of each section. "This can't be...," Nagis said in a hushed whisper, realizing what he was looking at. "Oh, but it is. I managed to lay my hands on a variation that will give us much enjoyment." Dukat replied. Garak had become quiet as he studied the Cube from a distance. Slowly a smile formed that nearly matched Dukat's. "I take it you are planning a second run at the legend of O'Rourke's Daughter?" "Something like that. But much more ... intriguing. I plan on letting our fair haired knight of old have an option not quite unlike that of Mr. O'Rourke's Daughter's suitor, only this time I plan to give him the tools to make a proper choice." "I wage he won't do it." Nagis said confidently, turning the case this way and that as he watched the light shine on the Cube. "A wager is not a wager unless someone offers an alternative." Dukat pointed out, watching Garak intently. Garak looked once again at the Cube and then back at Dukat. "Very well, I wage he will. How do you propose to take sides?" He asked finally. Dukat shook his head. "Oh no, I don't plan to wager with the likes of you. I have another wager of sorts with an old friend who has sent some 'assistants' to carry out the game." "Assistants?" Garak asked warily. Nagis was too involved in the details of the Cube to care about the conversion. "Here is what I propose..." Garak started, leaning in towards the others. -------------------------- The manager waited until the clock had fully passed the hour before moving toward the back table. Distracted by the tone of the entry chime, he stopped as a young man and woman entered the shop. Dressed alike, both wore long black coats and each sported a similar pair of round, black sunglasses. Even their hair was jet-black and well past their shoulders. As they moved toward the back table, he made an attempt to intercept them. "I'm sorry, but we're closed. Perhaps you could come back tomorrow..." he began with a smile, stepping into their path. The young woman stopped in front of him as her partner eased around them. She brought her hand up and placed a cool palm against the side of his face. Instantly he felt a small jolt that raced from her hand and back through his body. "Your dishes are dirty and you need to clean up. You are alone, and we ... were never here." She said softly, lowering her hand and stepping around him. The manager stood in place for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought, before turning and moving back toward the counter. It was a shame he needed to clean up all over again, but a job was a job, he groaned to the empty shop. Stopping to watch him, the woman turned to the door and raised her hand again. A sudden gust of wind turned the open sign to closed, as the lock bolts slammed shut. Smiling for the first time, she looked over the rest of the shop before turning to rejoin her companion. ----------------- "Dru, you have mastered that ability a bit too well I see." Her companion said as he patiently waited for her. The woman completed a mock curtsy before him. "My master is pleased?" She asked in a child like voice. "Please. The Lord help anyone who claimed to be *your* master." He replied with a shake of his head. "Drusilla! Gregor! It is *so* good to see you!" A voice yelled out from behind them. Turning, they approached the trio at the table. "These," Dukat said pleasantly, gesturing to the newcomers, " are the very two I was just telling you about." Nagis looked them up and down and paid particular attention to the young woman. "Perhaps afterwards, I, I, uh, I mean, we could get to know one another." he said with a grin. Gregor smiled with amusement. "I suspect you would learn things about Dru that you don't want to know." "Now, now." Dukat said pleasantly. "They have been retained by an old friend to set the game in motion and to make certain that the end is reached exactly as we need it to." Reaching across the table, Dukat retrieved the case and closed the lid. Handing to Gregor, he watched as it was passed in turn to Dru, who put it in a pocket without much examination. "You have the ... *other* pieces?" Gregor prompted as he turned back to the others. Dukat sighed as he reached in his shirt and pulled out a cloth bundle. This time Gregor examined the parcels wrapping before securing it in his own cloak. "Remember that in this case, timing *is* everything." Dukat said with a smile. The snapping of bubble gum startled them both as they turned to Drusilla. "Been here done this before. I'm bored. Let's go." she said evenly before turning and walking toward the door. "That one can be a handful." Dukat said wryly as they watched her depart. "In truth that is one of her greater charms." Gregor sighed. "Is there anything else you need of us?" "I will let you know, please go and get things under way. The full moon approaches." Gregor bowed slightly in response before turning and making his way toward the door. He saw the shop manager drying dishes and smiled as he walked out into the night. Dukat waited until they were alone before turning back to the game and picking up his cards. Smiling he reached out and pulled the pile of chips toward him. "As I remember, we left off with me taking the pot." ---------------- Outside Drusilla patiently waited until Gregor rejoined her. "You know, you should be more careful around Chaos Demons." He said pleasantly as they gazed over the late night activity around them. Drusilla simply shrugged in reply. "Have you contacted Knight yet?" Gregor looked at his watch and gauged the amount of time they would need. "Yes, he is expecting you in about thirty minutes. Shall we get the ball rolling?" ----------- Later that night, around 11:30PM EST (Toronto Time): Nick stood perfectly still as he examined the box in his hands. Galen's Cube. Up until a few days ago it had only been a hint of a rumor, something that even *he* had scoffed at when it had been mentioned. He had been struck numb to learn of its discovery, let alone that he could so easily acquire it. Momentarily his mind flashed to LaCroix, wondering if it was one of his tricks. The agent had seemingly released the cube with out so much as a question. Carefully he opened the box. Stepping under the skylight he caught the gleam of the moon on the polished surface of the Cube. Galen's Cube. Here in his hands. His eyes moved to the phone. He thought of calling Nat. Telling her he had found it and what it would mean for them. Mortality. Galen's Cube. A Father's love so deep he would give the life of his only daughter. No, failure was something he would suffer alone. Walking to the edge of the roof, he looked over the city below and wondered if it would look anything like what he had imagined when lit by the warmth of the sun. Pictures were one thing, but to see it with his own eyes... Turning back to face the moon, he opened the case and removed the cube, tossing the case off to one side. It was now or never. Raising the cube he began to recite the first verses that he had studied. Overhead clouds began to form, covering the stars. He reached up and turned the first section, forward twice and back one half. The clouds began to thicken and boil, bringing the first sounds of the approaching storm as thunder rumbled in the night. He continued the verses, using the old Latin he had learned. It was the turning of the second section -- four times and a half, which brought the wind. Swirling around him as he ignored the storm and continued the verses. Back thrice and forward one half. The final section locking in place brought the lightning. Spreading across the underbelly of the blackened clouds, it spread like the web of a spider. Rain began to pelt him as he held the cube up high and waited for success. The first bolt of lighting struck the cube, it's power racing from the cube and down his arm. A scream of agony died on his lips as his body rose in the air and danced with the lighting. He staggered as he was dropped back to his feet, and propelled back as a second bolt struck the cube. He watched in horror as the energy flowed over his body. Released from the energy, he never felt the third bolt strike him as he was driven down through the glass and pushed to the floor below. The bolt flowed from the cube and over his body, as he lay in spasm, his eyes wide and mouth open. Twisting and turning on the floor, the power finally released him from its grip, as he lay still and unconscious. The cube rolled across the broken glass as his slack fingers released their grip. Silence filled the loft as the storm dissipated, and the stars returned. A crow landed on the skylight frame, looking at the scene below. It's black eyes taking in the broken glass and the body lying sprawled on its stomach. The crow saw a gleam from near one hand and dropped to the floor to examine the trinket. Turning to look at the human, it waited for any reaction before picking the trinket up in its beak. Seemingly satisfied, its great wings spread out as it took to the air and flew back out the skylight. Soaring high into the moonlit sky, it moved over the city toward its target. The mansion was dark when it finally landed. The crow dropped the trinket on the front stoop as it listened for any noise or activity. Suddenly the feathers shimmered as the bird changed shape and seemed to turn into liquid. Flowing and molding, it formed a human shape and began to take on detail. Drusilla bent down and picked up the cube, pulling a chain from her pocket and attaching it to the top. Carefully she draped the chain over the door knob before turning and walking away. The plan was now in place with only the final chapter waiting to be played out. ------------- Shortly after dawn the following morning: Heat. Nick felt his skin burning, as flames seemed to trickle up his arms and wrap around his head. He tried to run but could not get away from the pain. Curling up in a ball, he tried to surrender. Opening his eyes, he became puzzled as he focused on the shards of broken glass around him. That was soon followed by alarm as he realized he was lying *in the sun!* Reaction born out of habit, he rolled to one side in search of shade, before he realized he hadn't been burning. He sat up and examined his hands to make sure he was not mistaken. Then he remembered the cube. Had it worked? Slowly rising to his feet, he took a deep breath before stepping back into the sunlight. The expected pain failed to materialize as he looked up into the blue sky. Tears, for the first time in centuries not of blood, streamed from his eyes as he raised his arms in triumph. --------------------- Elsewhere: LaCroix had been just entering his booth when he had felt the first pangs of nausea. With each step it had grown worse, finally driving him to his knees before he had collapsed in agony and lost consciousness. Pulling himself to his feet now, he was surprised to experience momentary dizziness as he turned and stumbled back to the club. From the sight that he saw when he opened the door, he realized he had not been alone in his agony. Several patrons were just getting up from the floor and were moving toward the door. He walked through the confused groups to find more confusion as sunlight splashed over him from the open door. Stepping aside, he was further surprised to not hear the usual sounds that the sun brought with it. Another patron opened the door and stood in the sunlight as LaCroix moved to stand next to him. LaCroix looked at the scene of confusion outside as he stepped out into unreality. "Oh, No..." he managed to say as he felt the warmth of the Sun. "Not Again..." ------------------- Across the street, The black HumVee sat idling at the curb as the two occupants watched the activity. Shifting into gear it slowly turned around and drove away. Inside, Gregor and Drusilla wondered what the next few days would be like and looked forward to the fun. "Let the games begin." Gregor said with a smile. "Fire in the hole..." Dru added, bringing on a fit of laughter as they drove into town. (End Of Opening) _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 07:09:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11F9pg-0001Sr-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:24:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1077; Fri, 13 Aug 99 01:22:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7383; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:22:44 -0400 Date: Thu, 12 Aug 1999 22:25:05 -0700 Reply-To: "Shana N." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Shana N." Subject: WAR: DP: "Of Vee-Bay and Dark Perks" (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bf5532c23a10ab0b54d11f79275e2768 *************************** WAR: DP: "Of Vee-bay and Dark Perks" Time: Friday, early am by: Shana Nolan ***************************** "Did you see their faces when we delivered the coffee?" Laughing and nodding at her fellow Dark Perk, the Dark Pink Ninja, Ren, Rose added, "Yeah, and this is what happens when you challenge a bunch of caffeine junkie DPs to a coffee taste test!" Ren grinned, turning the corner to head down the walkway towards the Dark Perk Mansion. "And now The Perfect Bean is a part of the Raven! I can't believe we actually got them to agree to exclusive merchandising rights." "Well, hey it is *the* coffee choice of all-- um... " Pausing to look down, Rose realised that she had nearly set her foot down atop of something, that something being a bedraggled Eric. "Eric?!" Pushing in front of her fellow Thug, Ren exclaimed "Eric!!" Looking like something the pink demon had dragged in, he mumbled a "not... sure... howgot... coffee... need... sustenance... " Ren and Rose exchanged glances, however he had gotten to Toronto he had made it in one piece... well, as far as they could tell... Side-stepping and opening the door as Ren and Rose hefted Eric up and pushed open the door only to run smack into yet another newly arrived Dark Perk, Caeryn, one of the newer Thugs, who was at the moment trying to wrest her duffel bag away from a pink demon. "Ack, hey!" "Hi! Argh.. gimme that!" Pulling backwards, the small pink slimy thing seemingly glued to the floor as it stayed hooked to its end, Caeryn managed a gritted smile. Setting Eric in a chair in the foyer, dusting off her hands, Rose looked over to the tug of war and gasped. "Burp!!" Turning its head, the demon suddenly released its iron grip and ran to the other Dark Perk, Caeryn suddenly flying backwards to skid on the hardwood floor with an "oomph." Having her hand snatched by Burp's, Rose waved suddenly, being pulled towards the Billiard room by the demon. "Be back later!" Ren shrugged to Caeryn, who seemed somewhat bewildered by it all as she lay splayed out on the floor. "Just another night at the DP Mansion," she winked. "Now to get some coffee for Eric there." * * * Meanwhile, upstairs in the Vault... "'Kay, if we unhook it here and here, and then release that spider-silk security system thingy, we should be able to get this monster down." Andrea grunted, standing at the bottom of the ladder, being rained with dust and such as Shana, the DP Angel, was loosing the prized Lucius in Repose tapestry from its honoured place in the Mansion Vault. "And why are we doing this?" "Because we have to. Tracy made it a direct order." "What, for that credit card bill?" Suppressing a sneeze, Shana nodded. "Yup." Catching an end as it became free of the mounting hooks, regarding the tapestry with curiosity, Andrea ventured "So we're actually getting rid of it... ?" "Well, not 'getting rid of,' per se." The huge former NA wall decoration dropped further into the Thug's arms. "We're selling it?" "Hah! There we go!" With a final snap of a hook, the entire tapestry dropped to the floor of the vault, raising a dust cloud, nearly dropping Andrea with its weight. Coughing at the top of the ladder, Shana said "And here I thought they beat this more often... but yeah, we're selling it." * * * Back downstairs in the ballroom... Typing furiously at a keyboard, a stack of paper work at either side, Mary, Godmother of the Dark Perks was trying to get everything taken care of before the Tapestry was dragged down the stairs and to its ultimate destination. "Hey Mary, they've got it stuck at the landing, one of those griffins reached out and grabbed it." Ren ran in the room and then promptly ran back out to watch the mayhem. Glancing up, her blonde hair falling around her face, the Godmother sighed. She knew it wouldn't get out of the Mansion without a struggle... now to get it out with a certain Dark CERK Perk discovering what was going on... With a sigh she stood up and walked out of the ballroom, stepping into the fray, as it were. On the end nearest the top of the stairs, Andrea was holding onto the now rolled up tapestry, covered in grey dust. On the other end was Shana, supporting her end as Caeryn was wedging herself between the banister and the tapestry, carrying a broom for which she meant to thwack the griffin statue with until it released its grip. Sighing, Mary looked around the hall, pausing as she noticed Eric still slumped in the chair he had been deposited in, slowly nursing a large cup of coffee. Ren shrugged. "Some of us drive or fly here, Eric stumbles." "Whatever works. What about everyone else?" "Give it back!" *thwack* "Let go!" *thwack, thwack* "*Give* *it* back!*" Ignoring the humour in beating up a staircase carving, Ren rattled off, "Andrea mentioned scary turbulence food so I assume she flew, um, Rose and Caeryn? I dunno... haven't seen Rose since Burp found her again. And then of course you, me and Shana never left... " Mary nodded. "Wonder where everyone else is, It's awfully quie-- " "What in the name of Jake Blues' ghost?!" Ren grinned. "Laura's here now." Mary pinched the bridge of her nose. Maybe it was time for another cup of coffee... Standing with her Duffel Bag o' Doom, dressed in pink camos, the Dark CERK Perk stood aghast in the mansion threshold. "Where's my tapestry going?!" Shana turned her head in surprise. This was going to be interesting... "Sidekick!! Hey Laura! So glad you made it!" Grabbing the redhead in a bear hug, turning her so she couldn't see the escapade on the staircase, the Dark Pink Ninja grabbed the duffel bag and attempted to head for any place but the hallway. Not that Laura would have anything to do with that particular plan. "Almost have it free... " With a final *thwack,* Caeryn dropped the broom on the griffin's head just as it released the tapestry, Andrea and Shana struggling to balance themselves. "'Kay, bring it on down, Thugs!" Mary called. Stepping up cautiously to the Godmother, a but-I-like-it-here look on her face, Laura asked "So where is it going?" "Well, we're selling it on Vee-bay and we've made arrangements to have it displayed someplace fairly public so people know what they're bidding on." "Vee-bay?" Backing down the stairs, Shana coughed and offered, "Yeah, online auction house, it's great, we can monitor the bidding at any time of the night... " Laura pressed further, "So where it is going on display?" Mary grinned. "Someplace where we can keep an eye on it. With friends." Watching Andrea's end come off the final step as Ren opened the door to let the tapestry through, the Dark CERK Perk looked around for a moment and then promptly ran out the door behind it, shouting back, "Okay, I'll make sure it makes it okay, and uh, make it look good for displaying... " Mary shook her head, grinning. Standing next to Ren, the two blondes listening to the ruckus outside as the tapestry was loaded into the pink caddy, they watched as Caeryn yanked out part of the broom from the now inanimate griffin statue. A few moments later the DP Angel came back in, her normally auburn hair grey with dust. "So, fearless leader, shouldn't the announcement be dropping soon?" "Hmm, let's go check." Mary headed off for the ballroom, tailed by the three other DPs. Clicking off the screensaver and opening the browser, an evil laugh filled the room as Mary read aloud the message on the screen. "'New to Vee-Bay tonight: the one of a kind Lucius in Repose Tapestry, a full sized wall hanging of the General himself, currently in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, live viewing location information forthcoming... now open for bidding as of 12:01 am, EST.'" ************************* Shana, dpangel@thegrid.net the DP Angel, DP 2nd in Command From - Fri Aug 13 07:09:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11F9tD-0001ef-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:28:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7284; Fri, 13 Aug 99 01:26:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7504; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:26:21 -0400 Date: Thu, 12 Aug 1999 23:37:12 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP: Friends, Cohorts, Twins and Associates (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b7a86ad0cd029b649d4b3a6a7ef23a61 WAR: DP: Friends, Cohorts, Twins and Associates (1/1) Place: Toronto, Dark Perk Mansion Time: Friday the 13th, 12:01am By: Cousin Mary 16 year old SNB looked at the rapidly accelerating Toronto bound train with an expression of excitement mixed with terror, "Come on Jack, we can make it!" She patted the golden retriever at her side and started running. "Come on S! You can do it!" Maya called out. Her own retriever, Summer's tail wagging excitedly, she shoved the dog aside to keep from getting whapped in the face again, "Hurry S!" Her legs pumping, the teen ran up next to the boxcar and held out a hand to her friend, "A little help?" Maya, shoving her brown bangs from her eyes, reached out and grabbed the hand. She flinched as Jack leapt into her and nearly let go of her friend, but just as the train started speeding over a bridge, Maya hauled her fellow DP thug into the open door of the boxcar. "Ooff!" The two teens laid on the plank wood floor panting. Slowly SNB started to giggle, "I don't think this is what Mary had in mind when she said 'get to Toronto anyway you can!" Maya rolled to her side and looked at the purpled hared thug like she'd sprouted another head, "This is not a laughing matter! We could have died!" "I know, sorry," She sat up and looked around, "Next time we'll get to the station on time... maybe even ride in the passengers' car!" SNB giggled again. Maya rolled her eyes, she petted Summer when he came over and licked her face, the small doggie cast on his left front leg thumping as he walked. (When dogs challenge school buses, the buses usually win) She'd been in Idaho visiting her fellow Dark Perk when news of the war had come down. They'd gotten the email, just the attachment with the picture of the headless pink bunny. Maya smiled as she remembered the shriek of glee SNB had let out at the sight of the unmistakable sign, War 10 was finally going to start. Mary, the Godmother of the Dark Perk Mafia was from Idaho too, though already in Toronto when rumors of the war had started circulating. After sending the lovely parent-scaring email, she'd called, she needed them to stop by her house and pick up a few things before they came up... that's why'd they'd almost missed their train, they'd been running godmommy errands. "So..." Maya looked around the car and smiled, bags of buttons lined the walls. "What'd Mary have you get anyway?" SNB shrugged, "She told me to 'get the box under the bed,' so that's what I did." "But what's in it?" Maya pressed. "Dunno," SNB held the humidor up and shook it, "It's locked." Maya gave her a look. SNB shook her head, "No. I can't just break into Mary's private-" Maya gave her a DP look. "Okay fine," SNB slapped down the box with a grin and pulled out her lock pick, two seconds later, the wooden humidor was open. "What the hell?!" Maya looked down and yanked loose the very official looking contract, signed by their very own DP Godmother.... "The Raven has the exclusive rights to sell 'The Perfect Bean' DP brand coffee?!" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Flashback to 3 weeks earlier<<<<<<<<<<<<< "Non, ma chere," Janette lifted her goblet and took a small sip before continuing, "Armand is by far the best body/tattoo artist in the city." Tracy just shook her head and smirked. She looked around the Raven and sighed happily, it looked much better now that Janette was in charge again. She'd really hated coming here when Lacroix had owned it, it had lacked Janette's style, her flair, her drama. He'd taken the once sophisticated, sultry nightclub and turned it into an undead 'Hooters.' Thank God Janette had come back and taken over again! "You disagree?" Janette arched one perfectly sculpted dark brow at her young friend. She had known the blonde for years, when Tracy had first graduated from the academy she'd celebrated at her club... Janette had hosted the small gathering herself. When she'd found it necessary to leave Toronto, her young protigi had been one of the things she'd missed the most. Of course, at the time Tracy had not known of her true nature but now... She watched the blonde, a detective now, carefully wipe up the small mark her coffee mug had left on the bar. "Maybe if you like pain," Tracy laughed, smiling at her friend. "Ling Fat is -much- better, always clean too." "I suppose, that must be taken into consideration," Janette sniffed delicately, "for some." Tracy smiled, taking a drink from her mug and grimacing, "Ugh, that's bad." "The coffee?" Janette frowned, "Oui, I know, but it is so hard to find a good vender in Toronto." She sighed, "I -have- tried." "You know Janette," Tracy's eyes lit up, "I know some people..." Just then a pair of blondes walked in. "So you're Tracy's twin sister, right?" Urs blinked at the girl beside her. Hadn't Vachon told her that Tracy had an 'evil twin'? Well, obviously this must be her! She looked just like the cop! 'Tall, slender, same hair, they even dressed the same,' Urs thought, eyeing the khakis and plain knit shirt. Mary smiled at Urs, but didn't answer. She'd come to the Raven looking for Tracy (the cop was here a lot since Janette had taken over again) and run into Urs on her way in. The blonde vampiress seemed to think she was the twin Vachon had mentioned in 'Trophy Girl.' Sure people noted the resemblance a lot, heck, she'd passed herself off as Tracy last war several times. But being Tracy's evil twin... that just opened up a world of possibilities! Urs chewed her lip and looked at Mary closer, they weren't -exactly- the same, "Must be fraternal twins," She mumbled before heading to the back to grab her paycheck. Mary smiled her evil DP smile again before looking around for her faction's leader. After a moment she spotted Tracy sitting at the bar and walked over, "Hi Trace! Ready to head to the Mansion and teach that kick-boxing class?" "Yeah in a minute," Tracy smiled back at the DP Godmommy, then glanced at Janette who was still frowning over the Raven's atrocious coffee. "But first... Mary, the DP's coffee supply, the 'Perfect Bean,' we have a lot of it right?" The philosophy major frowned, but nodded, "Yeah, and more comes everyday from the plantations. Why do-" Mary's eyes slipped from the plotting Tracy to the suddenly delighted Janette, she quickly put 2 and 2 together. "What? No!" Tracy nodded, "Yes." She beamed at Janette, who beamed back. "It really is a most wonderful business deal, ma cherie," The vamp nodded, "We shall have the exclusive rights to sell your brew, and split the profits fifty, fifty." "But, but, but!" Mary made a few frustrated hand gestures, but no real words after that. Tracy noticed the glazed-over panicked look the DP listmommy was getting at the prospect of losing her coffee... she knew the feeling all too well. "Don't worry Mary," She patted her arm, "You'll still have enough for the DP." "Will we?!" Mary choked back a desperate sob. "Oui," The proprietress nodded, "Ecoute, I am not Nicolas, I would -never- take too much." She smiled as Mary calmed down, chuckling at the small Nick-bashing. Oh well, it was well worth mocking her Nicolas if it kept the girl from hysterics. "Anyway, you have what? 3 metric tons of the stuff stashed as it is?" Tracy cracked. "5, With more coming," Mary corrected with a wry grin, "Okay, so I guess we won't run out." Tracy and Janette smiled hugely. "So, we have a deal?" Mary sighed, looking from one woman to another. She didn't really have a choice did she? "Okay, we have a deal." The friends shook on it and Mary signed on the dotted line. It was official, the DP and Ravenettes were in business together. May God have mercy on all Toronto. >>>>>>>>>>>> End, beginning, whatever *eDPg* Cousin Mary ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11F9u2-0001fo-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:29:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9699; Fri, 13 Aug 99 01:27:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7538; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:27:14 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 00:28:41 CDT Reply-To: Dark Hearts Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Dark Hearts Subject: WAR: Urchins: Back in Your Face (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e30702aa71bd174ce0cf4c8ccb72e02d WAR: Back In Your Face (01/01) Place: Toronto, Dark Perk Mansion Time: Friday the 13th, 12:01am by Dark Hearts (with a nod to Ren for Inspiration ) c 1999 Trish dusted off her dark pink Harley. It had been in the DP garage for some time, and it was full of cobwebs and pink fluff from stuffed bunnies. The keys were dangling from the ignition, an admission of her neglect these past months. Karen whistled. Wow. You DP s really are the coolest. What a bike. Trish smiled at her new friend, Urchin and recent DP Thug. I told ya. She smiled. Trish started the engine, and it quickly rumbled to life. C mon, she almost had to yell over the din. Let s go find Urs. No, Thanks. Karen shook her head, as she looked at the dangerous machine. I ll stay here. She yelled. I ve got work to do. The first of which, she thought, as she watched Trish pull away, was to find the famous DP coffee. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> They had arrived late Wednesday night at DP Mansion, to find The DP godmother, Mary, along with DP s Shana and Ren plotting their first moves in the War. Trish noticed the glazed look on Mary s face as Shana feverishly outlined her plan, and Ren just kept saying, I don t think we can do that. Can we? and looking to Mary for reassurance. The loud thunk the entering Thugs duffel bags made as they hit the floor finally seemed to draw their attention from what they were doing. Reinforcements! Cried Shana, jumping up and throwing her arms around Trish in a hug. New recruit! Yelled Mary, carefully taking in Karen s appearance. Hey, hold on there. This one is mine. Karen had the appearance of a doe caught in someone s headlights. Yours? laughed Mary. You re a DP! Well, that s true. Trish replied, but I was an Urchin before I was a DP. Urchin? Pah! There aren t any Urchins, are there? Mary looked pointedly at Shana. Shana shook her head. Um Karen is an Urchin. Karen looked uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the Godmother s gaze. Her resolve about this whole War thing was fading fast. She cleared her throat. Look um, Karen began, Tracy, it s not all my fault. You see She stopped when she noticed all the DP s smiling. Ren just shook her head. Karen, this isn t Tracy. This is Mary, the DP Godmother. Trish said. And, regardless of what she would like you to think, she won t eat you alive. Come on. Let s find you a room. Urchins, Mary! Remember! Trish called as she pushed Karen up the stairs, and dragged her loaded duffel bag behind her. She grinned as she saw Mary put her fists on her hips and stomp her foot in true Godmother tradition. Don t worry, Cousin Mary. We ll fight for you and with you. She laughed. I may be an Urchin, but I m still a DP. Burp made an appearance by Trish s shoulder as she made her way up the second flight of stairs and, as she swatted him away, he giggled with glee. Truth was, she was glad to be back. Even if it meant dealing with little pink demons. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Trish cut the engine of the Harley outside Urs Parlor. The tattoo shop was busy at this time of night and Trish could see Urs playing hostess to a group of Loud and Rowdy s. There was a line of bikes in front of the shop, most of them Harley s. Trish looked around as she stepped in. The shop was well lit and clean. People were socializing as well as having tattoos and piercings done. The atmosphere was generally happy. Trish smiled when she saw Alma behind the counter, filing her nails. Well, she thought, I m a DP. I can tear it up with the best of them , but before she got too far into the shop, she heard Urs squeal. Trish! Oh my God! She threw her arms around her overwhelmed faction leader. What are you doing in Toronto? Trish wasn t sure this was the place to talk, but time was running short. There s going to be another war. Urs smiled and waved her hand in the air. Oh, that silly thing again? She turned abruptly, curling up in one of the vacant barber s chairs. Why would I be worried about a war? Trish sighed. She had a feeling Urs would feel this way. Why shouldn t she? She had been ignored for a long time. This time you re needed. Trish said quietly. Urs turned her eyes down, her long black lashes almost touching her cheeks. I m needed here. She sighed. Trish looked around again. That s true. She agreed, but this time Tracy needs you. Trish held her breath, hoping that the mention of the blonde cop would get Urs attention. Tracy? Urs looked surprised. Yep. And the DP s. DP s, huh? Urs smiled. Yep. Oh, All right, Urs rolled her eyes. The upstairs apartment is being painted anyway. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Urs threw her keys in Alma s direction; the dark blonde vampire caught them without even looking up from her Cosmo. Lock up, Alma. Urs grinned. I think I m gonna be awhile. Trish was already revving the engine of the Harley by the time Urs climbed on the back. Where are we going? Trish smiled over her shoulder at Urs, before gunning the bike. DP Mansion. ------------ Trish -----=====-----=====-----=====-----=====-----=====----- ~ Dark Heart ~ Vaq ~ Urchin ~ Dark Perk ~ DH Webmistress ~ ~ Proud Keeper of the Urchin Sympahtizer Page ~ All to be found at http://forever.vachon.net "What you asked for. An end... A beginning." _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FA7X-00029o-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:43:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1126; Fri, 13 Aug 99 01:41:10 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7978; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:41:10 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:42:42 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Getting There is Half the Fun (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d2b4e0f2067f7f9929a0c516ec8aa4e8 Title: Cousins LCL: Getting There is Half the Fun (1/1) Date: Friday, August 13th Time: 7am Eastern Time By Cousin Shelley, with permissions and help of all used The phone was ringing incessantly. Unfortunately, the timing was not the best as Shelley had an armful of clean laundry and was attempting = to placate a miserable 2 year old while avoiding the numerous toys = on the floor in her path. Sighing deeply, she dumped the clothes on the table and began to search for the phone. Finding it, she answered "Hello?" breathlessly. "Shelley?" the voice on the other end asked. "Yes, speaking" she answered. "Hi, listen, it's Cousin Tok, a war has been called. Can you get up to Toronto as soon as possible?" "W-w-war??" Shelley squeaked out, wondering how in the world she was going to tell her husband the kids would be all his for 2 weeks... again. He *hadn't* been pleased the last time war had broken out. "Yes, a war...will you be staying with the Light Cousin's again? Can you let them know?" = "Yes, I'll probably stay with them this war too, and I'll phone Arletta and let her know about the war" Shelley replied, regaining some of her composure. Hanging up, she quickly picked the phone up = again and began to dial Arletta's number. "Arletta, w-w-war has broken out", Shelley squeaked into the phone, losing her tenuous grasp on her composure again. "War?" Arletta repeated, wondering why Shelley was squeaking so much. "Would you like to drive up together? I can hop a train to = Philadelphia, if you can pick me up?" "Uhhhh...yeah, sure" she replied, "when?" For the next couple of minutes, the two hammered out the details of = the rail schedules and their own schedules. Finally, the details = ironed out, they hung up. = ----=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D****=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D---- TIME: Friday, August 13th, 10am Eastern Time Pulling the van into a handicapped parking space at the Philadelphia = train station, Shelley got out and hurried into the building. She had forgotten how bad the traffic could be and was running late. After entering, she rode the escalator to the main floor and hurried over to the center of the room where the information booth was located. Reading the giant sign overhead, she saw that Arletta's train was delayed...as was every other train listed. She sighed to herself, = wishing she would have remembered that every other time she had been here, the trains had also been delayed. She could have saved herself and her back the aggravation of hurrying so much. Finding one of the hard wooden benches nearby, she settled in to wait with the rest of the crowd. Finally, after about 15 minutes, the = giant sign listing the trains announced that all trains were now = running an hour late. Sighing, Shelley got up and began to wander aimlessly around the small shops in the station and wonder idly = why a war had been called. Checking the clock on the station wall, Shelley was glad to see that the hour of waiting was finally over. Glancing at the giant sign, she also saw that they had not put up any further delays, and in fact, had announced the arrival of the train. She began walking towards the far wall, where arriving passengers would come from. Seeing Arletta pass through the door just as she got there, Shelley = waved and called out her name. "Is that all the luggage you have?" Shelley asked as the two got close enough to hear each other. "Yes, this is it" replied Arletta, pointing to a huge bag she had slung over her shoulder. "It's enough, believe me!" she said, shifting the bag uncomfortably. The two women walked to the escalator, then out of the building into the August heat. "I hope Toronto is cooler" Arletta said, shifting her bag again. "Where are you parked?" Shelley pointed to the dark red van directly in front of them in the first spot. "Sometimes I just *love* handicapped parking" she told Arletta, "especially when it's this hot!" They both laughed a bit and climbed into the van. Putting her bag on the back seat, Arletta began to fool with the = controls to the air conditioning as Shelley drove out of the train station and back into the Philadelphia traffic. = "So...just *what* did you tell John *this* time?" Arletta asked, = smirking to herself at the thought of Shelley's husband's reaction to the last war. "I, uh, left him a note" Shelley replied. Arletta giggled, "and the kids?" "Day care, same one we used in June when I had surgery" Shelley smiled back. "I even paid it up for the entire two weeks, so he can't = complain...uh, too much, anyway" she said, the smile fading a bit. "Ummmm, Shelley? These controls for the air conditioning don't seem to be having much affect on the hot air blowing out of the vents..." "Oh, yeah" Shelley replied cryptically. Reaching over to the control = panel, she hit it hard with the heel of her hand several times. = Cooler air started to blow almost immediately, much to Arletta's = relief. "You'll need to do that about every five minutes or so", she said = offhandedly. "I will?" Arletta asked. Seeing the nod Shelley gave, she sighed = heavily and settled in for the long trip. ----=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D****=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D---- From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FAV7-00005p-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:07:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7371; Fri, 13 Aug 99 02:01:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9201; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:00:48 -0400 Date: Thu, 12 Aug 1999 22:55:32 -0700 Reply-To: Cat Beck Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cat Beck Subject: War:DP:The Scientist (1/1) by Cat Beck To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0e6858f72f783411f04327287bdfd892 Title: The Scientist (1/1) Date: Friday, August 13th Time: 10am Eastern Time Pouring the remaining amounts of chemical buffer into the gel box with gusto Cat had finally had enough of normal research. She had heard about the strange happenings going on in other parts of the scientific community, and had been drawn to their darkside. Unknown to her colegs at the college she had taken to doing experiments of her own. Mainly figuring out how to make a bacteria secrete the jello substance that is currently the DP mansion's basement. Getting the samples through a leak, Caroline, Cat even found a way to get them fresh. Well tonight was the night, would they secrete pink jello, and would it have the same properties? Running from the boring part of the lab Cat ran straight to the secret experiment. Filling her eyes like many pink circles were the petri dishes of E. coli, with pink ozzing around the edges. Just then the phone rang. Grumbling at the interuption of the havock that she was about to bring upon the unsuspecting co-worker and student she grabbed the phone. "Hello? Lab." "Might this be Catherine Beck?" "Yes." "Well congradulations, you have gotten a scholarship to attend a week of interning at the Molecular Institute in Toronto!!" "Swell, well I am going home for a week, so i will have to decline the offer." "Well here's our number if you change your mind..." After talking with the coordinator of a science program for five minutes Cat was beginning to lose that early morning coffee buzz. The phone again? "Hello, lab." "Hello, I was wondering if I could talk to Cat Beck?" "And who might this be?" "Well my name is Tracy Vetter, and..." "Ohh, Tracy, sorry I am being so rude. I thought it might be another person offering to send me to Toronto to work on my vacation." "Well, I wouldn't call a War 'work' but if you don't want to come or can't come i would understand." "How about i show up on the DP mansion's door step about 12:10am Friday?" "Sure, sounds great." Mumble mumble. Rustling of papers."WHERE did THAT stupid PIECE of Paper go???????" GRrrrrr.... "Well, Cat, I will talk to you then, bye." "Tracy??? " Dialing the phone with an evil smile with a backpack bulging with petri dishs and equiptment, Cat had an evil grin on her face, almost a mad scientist grin. "Hello, Mr. uuhhh, the guy from the Toronto institute of Molecular Biology I would love to come up. I am leaving at 6pm on Friday the 13th, and I need clearance for a carryon with bacteria. ... What? Oh no, they aren't a health hazard at all . Kay? See you on Monday morning at work bright and early. Ohhh, do i have a place to stay for the weekend? Well I have friends in Toronto, so don't worry about that." _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FAih-0000RE-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:21:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7551; Fri, 13 Aug 99 02:19:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2081; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:19:33 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:04:55 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS: She's A Rainbow (01/03) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9295f667c9fb8ee780fafd23a322e903 WAR: MERCS: She's A Rainbow (01/03) by Laurie Mercbard Time: Minutes before the opening post drops, because if we're getting a piece of the puzzle, we forgot to mention it Everyone used with permission. The feeling of unease increased as the night wore on. For the first time since the Mercenary Guild=92s Grand High Poobah Laurie Mercbard had returned to Toronto, her personal evil fan fic fairy, F. Hugh, was worried. Something was up, and he just *knew* he wasn=92t going to like it. The past few months had been a delight, what with a skeleton crew on at Merc Central and those pesky Ratpackers disappeared into the walls, leaving plenty of time for the Poobah to redecorate Merc Central in her own frightening image. But in the past few days, Merc Central had gone from a peaceful oasis of evil to a beehive of frenzied activity, with Mercs coming and going at all hours, and even a few Ratpackers putting in a hurried appearance. If all this talk of war was true, F. Hugh would have to watch his wings. Despite the pinnacle of power he had attained with the Mercs, the former Nunkies Anonymous fan fic fairy had not quite lost his ambivalence towards his former master, LaCroix. Yes, Nunkies (he=92s Nunkie to me now, F. Hugh guiltily reminded himself, Nunkie, Nunkie, Nunkie!) had agreed to let him stay with the Mercs. Yes, the Poobah had somehow convinced the ancient vampire not to reveal the secret location of Merc Central to his factions. Still, F. Hugh was fairly certain LaCroix would not let him - or the Poobah - off that easy. Especially considering the little surprise the Poobah had sent to the General at the end of the last war, right before she had skipped town, avoiding retaliation. F. Hugh=92s reveries were interrupted by a flurry of activity from the Poobah, who swung round in her chair, jarring the computer monitor where the fairy was perched. =93Finished!=94 The Poobah waved a piece of paper exuberantly. =93Finished what?=94 asked Geebees, sprawled fashionably on a divan in the corner of the office. Tall, blonde, and seductive, she=92d joined the Mercs to give the Ravenettes a fashion run for their money. =93My latest filk. Listen to this. It=92s called =91If I Only Was a Merc=92. It=92s a recruiting song to =93If I Only Had a Brain=94 from the Wizard o= f Oz.=94 The Poobah=92s mouth opened wide. At that sure sign of coming vocal abuse, Geebees covered her ears. *POOF* F. Hugh, who had developed extremely sensitive ears during his stay with the Poobah, popped out of sight. I could while away the hours Offending all the Powers Cavorting with a smirk. All the plans I=92d be makin=92 There=92d be so much bellyachin=92 If I only was a Merc. I'd encourage lots of trouble Then pick through all the rubble I=92d drive them all berserk. With the deeds I=92d be doin=92 I could have the Warlock stewin=92 If I only was a Merc. Oh, it would make them cry The chaos that=92s in store. I could think up tricks I never thunk before And then I'd sit And plot some more. I would not be in a faction That can=92t cope with the action They=92re too much fun to irk. I=92d finance so much evil War would go through an upheaval If I only was a Merc. Um, Laur, you can=92t piss off the Warlock in your opening post.=94 =93Why not?=94 =93It=92s politically incorrect.=94 Laurie began to turn blue, just as F. Hugh popped back in. =93And=94, Geebees hurriedly added. =93He can kick you out of the war.=94 =93Excuse ME???!!=94 The blue morphed into an interesting shade of magenta. =93I=92m a faction leader. Of the MERCS.=94 Geebees sighed. Grand High Pain wasn=92t even close. =93Look, I don=92t make the rules. I just break them,=94 she answered. =93You know the Warlock has final say over everyone, even faction leaders.=94 =93What if I was a faction leader AND the Warlock? Huh? Huh? Huh? Then I=92d have ALL the power.=94 Magenta turned rapidly into scarlet, as a demonic look appeared in the GHP=92s eyes. F. Hugh suddenly *POOFed* out of view. Geebees began to turn green at the thought of Laurie as both the Poobah and the Warbah. She was saved the need to reply by the re-appearance of F. Hugh, who hovered whispering in Laurie=92s ear. As Laurie bolted out the door of her office, both F. Hugh and Geebees stood with their mouths agape, marveling at the astonishing array of colors spreading across the Poobah=92s face. * * * From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FAkr-0003VB-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:23:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9954; Fri, 13 Aug 99 02:21:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2277; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:21:44 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:06:42 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS: She's A Rainbow (02/03) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d57548d7e5bd1700a38bf9bb278c6604 WAR: MERCS: She's A Rainbow (02/03) by Liz the Lucky, Sara Orel and Laurie Mercbard Time: Minutes before the opening post drops, because if we're getting a piece of the puzzle, we forgot to mention it Everyone used with permission. Carefully checking to make sure no one was around, Liz snuck out of her room, heading for the newly-dug tunnel that led from Merc Central to Le Chateau des Autres. She almost made it. As her hand reached for the knob that opened the secret passage, she heard the VOICE. =93Oh Liz!=94 Resignedly, Liz turned to face the Grand High Poobah. =93Hi, Boss.=94 =93And just *where* do you think you're going?=94 the Grand High Poobah asked. "Don=92t you have bedrooms to clean, catering to arrange, RENTS TO COLLECT?=94 =93Um, would you believe to get some souvlaki?=94 Liz answered, squirming, as Laurie's face turned aquamarine. The Poobah didn't say anything. She just *glared*. Liz knew she=92d have to come clean. =93The Nothers don't have very many people this War, so they've hired me to hang out with them in exchange for room and board at the Chateau,=94 Liz confessed. =93What the hell is a Nother anyway? Sounds far too much like a Nunkie for my taste.=94 =93Nothers think Natalie should get her head on straight, dump Nick and find someone else, usually a made-up character or a character from another show. I'm setting her up with Joe from Highlander.=94 =93Not in this war, you=92re not,=94 Laurie humped. =93This is a Forever Knight War, and you=92re the Guild=92s House Mommie. Just how do you expect to carry out your duties if you're off gallivanting with yet another faction that has no purpose?=94 =93I, er, can't,=94 Liz squirmed. More glaring and color changing. But just think,=94 Liz quickly continued. =93If I'm getting free room and board, that means you also get two days at the Chateau as my tithe. Imagine, two whole days and nights, with every wish catered to, and not a RatPacker or Merc in sight. It'll come in handy towards the end of the War.=94 The Poobah did not relent. A lovely shade of emerald began to develop. Liz thought fast. =93And I can arrange for dessert for everyone at Merc Central every night for as long as the War lasts.=94 The emerald began to fade. The lure of chocolate was proving too much to resist. Sensing escape in sight, Liz delivered the coup de grace. =93And I=92ve already found a replacement. Sara=92s returned from her dig and she wants her job =96 and her suite =96 back.=94 She didn=92t mention that in fact, the deal between her and Sara was already signed, sealed and delivered, and that Sara had been acting as House Mommie since her arrival a few days ago. What the Poobah didn=92t know wouldn=92t hurt the rest of them. Laurie gave in, but she wasn=92t going to make it easy. =93OK, I want a *different* chocolate dessert every night. And you better make them spectacular." Liz breathed a sigh of relief. Internally, of course. She wasn=92t going to risk the Poobah changing her mind. Or turning plum. =93Thanks.=94 The ex-House Mommie Liz threw her arms around the Grand High Poobah and hugged her, ignoring the look on Laurie=92s face. =93That's for the ten hugs I got from Schanke last War. See yah!=94 She turned the knob and disappeared down the tunnel, as a current of color began once more to crawl up the Poobah=92s neck. * * * Sara shook her head in disgust. She couldn=92t quite understand how she had once again ended up having to share a house with sugar-addicted bouncy Ratpackers. Not just any house, mind you, but *her* house. She=92d had to miss last war, but upon returning to Toronto a few days ago, had reclaimed her rightful position (and more importantly, her cut of the rent) as Merc House Mommie. The fact that neither her nor Liz had bothered to inform the Grand High Poobah didn=92t phase her in the least. She=92d faced far worse than a shrieking Poobah in her time. She=92d been busily working with Liz in the last few days, opening the house, taking advantage of the absence of any Mercs to air out the sheets, air out the house, air out the attic, carefully looking for the tell-tale signs of rodent lovers in the house. Not too many shiny pretty thingies were scattered on the floor, which could either mean that the Pack had moved over to another location, had completely left town, OR (more likely, Sara realized) they had simply had a slow summer, and now that everything had been traded at the swap meet and they had been to Vegas, they would soon return to make everyone's life miserable. Screed himself was actually quite okay, very neat and tidy, but his followers were another story. Already this morning, Sara had defrosted the one older freezer, refilled the ice cube trays in the frost-free one, stocked up on coffee and chocolate ice cream, orange sherbet, diet coke, and other healthy things, updated the food-delivery phone number list, and put out cat food and water and cat litter for Ramona and George, the adorable but demanding merc central house cats. Their owner was spending the summer as a doctor on the Amazon and had been thrilled to have Sara resurface in Toronto just as she had been frantic for a catsitter. She=92d also bought in a new supply of fans and air conditioners, and arranged the laundry service. She'd had all the paintings of former Poobahs cleaned, and had even, grudgingly, given an airing out to the Nunkies in Repose tapestry the Guild had stolen from the Shrine last war. Merc Central was in tip top shape for the expected arrival of the troops. =93They ought to call me Superwoman House Mommie,=94 she thought to herself, as she happily prepared to head out to the used book stores on Queen Street. As she passed the computer lab, a hand reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the lab and quickly shutting the door. =93What the =85=94 Sara began, but Gubs frantically interrupted her. =93Quick, hide,=94 she whispered, trying to shove Sara under a computer table. =93Down there. The Poobah can=92t see beyond the bridge of her nose. She=92ll never find you." As Sara protested, Gubs began to physically push her down. Suddenly, the door to the lab opened. =93Fee fie fo fum,=94 said the VOICE. "I smell the blood of a new House Mum." * * P.S. from the new House Mum: WHO burned the hole in the dining room carpet? Honestly I just can't keep anything neat! Sigh. Probably those ratpackers admiring the way the sun reflected off and shone (pronounced, in the proper Canadian way, "Shahn", like the artist) through the pieces of stained glass they were collecting. (she goes muttering off to her room on the second floor to which she has returned the LaCroix portrait by Jan Van Eyck, an item she had stolen several wars ago for just this purpose. It is calming, mesmerizing, cool... oh so cool... ) From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FAm1-0000Uo-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:25:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1347; Fri, 13 Aug 99 02:23:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2388; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:23:05 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:07:37 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS: She's A Rainbow (03/03) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c7b05076604ca591773b0703c3eeceda WAR: MERCS: She's A Rainbow (03/03) by Mildred Cady and Laurie Mercbard Time: Minutes before the opening post drops, because if we're getting a piece of he puzzle, we forgot to mention it Everyone used with permission. Gubs could smell the GHP coming a mile away. Merc Mommy General Mildred knew value when she saw it, and had immediately taken on the new Merc as her computer lab assistant. The recruit definitely had potential; Mildred could sense that she was almost as devious as her GHPness. So when Gubs suddenly stopped working and began to sniff the air, Mildred took notice. And when she jumped up, ran to the door, grabbed Sara, and slammed it shut, Mildred knew something was up. Such as the GHP. Not ten seconds later, as Gubs tried to shove a resisting Sara under a computer desk, the door opened, and Laurie stormed in. Her face was mauve, matching the color of the carpet. =93Ah, Sara, there you are. I need to talk to =85 OUCH! What was that?=94 Laurie almost tripped over a bottle of liquid on the floor. Sara took the opportunity to sneak past her out the door. Mildred ran and grabbed the bottle. =93Uh sorry. Didn't expect you.=94 She placed the bottle next to a box of syringes by the lab's door. =93Is there something I can help you with?=94 =93What=92s in that bottle?=94 the GHP asked suspiciously. =93It=92s for the new security system. Want to see?=94 Laurie nodded. Mildred headed over to the newly installed palm-scanner now embedded into the wall next to the Computer lab's door. The floor was littered with syringes and bottles. =93We need to make it stronger,=94 Gubs stifled a giggle. =93We can't have the drug full strength just yet... we get no chocolate if they're passed out for the whole War...=94 =93=93Drugs? Chocolate? What are you TALKING ABOUT?=94 The VOICE began to kick in. The Assistant Computer Genius spoke up. =93It's the security on the lab. It was my idea. Essentially, if someone tries to get into the lab without access, a needle comes out and injects a sedative. That way, if anyone ever finds us, at least the computers will be safe.=94 Mildred piped in, =93Also, it ensures that the Guild will get the appropriate amount of chocolate for computer use privileges from our own members. By the way, we'll need to code in your info so you can get access. Without paying, of course.=94 =93And don=92t forget I get a percentage for letting you have these new tech toys =85 and an assistant.=94 Mildred nodded. =93Was there anything else you needed?=94 =93I=92m looking for Sara, I could have sworn I just saw her,=94 the GHP declared, scanning the lab. =93Um, I just saw her heading downstairs,=94 Gubs said. =93I think she=92 s =85=94 The Merc stopped in mid-sentence, staring as the GHP turned a delightful shade of amber and charged out of the room. The two computer geniuses looked at each other. They=92d pretty much escaped the Poobah=92s notice in the past few weeks, while they=92d been setting up the lab. With war about to break out, that was about to change. =93Does she always change color like that?=94 Gub asked. =93No, only on her good days,=94 Mildred replied, sighing deeply. She had been working hard to make sure that Laurie didn't change colors too often. The calmer the GHP was, the less the VOICE happened. The less they all heard of the VOICE, the happier they=92d all be. After all, no one, especially Mildred, had taken their vacations and packed everything for Toronto to see Laurie do an impersonation of an acid trip. * * * Finns From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FAya-0000NR-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:38:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7605; Fri, 13 Aug 99 02:35:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3213; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:35:59 -0400 Date: Thu, 12 Aug 1999 23:38:51 -0700 Reply-To: J Jaxson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: J Jaxson Subject: WAR: DP: Hi Ho Off To Toronto I Go (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 69d41e6fabc6b5392dd5a401f94edecd WAR: DP: Hi Ho Off To Toronto I Go (1/1) Place: Phoenix, Arizona Time: Friday the 13, 4:45am (PST) By: JJaxson All names are played with permission Startled awake by the sound of the phone. June reached blindly our for it. Vaguely wondering why someone else hadn't answered the dang thing. Sleeping like the dead had it's advantages. Laying her hands on the receiver jostled it just enough to dislodge it from it's cradle. As it went crashing to the floor she heard the voice of Cousin Mary the DP godmother. Eyes coming wide awake in an instant and making a grab for the phone was a feat to be seen. Placing it against her ear and saying half way into the phone. "Ugh hello....Sorry about that." Still half asleep and trying to stifle a yawn June cradled the receiver against her shoulder only half listening to what the person on the other end had to say. Suddenly her posture went ram rod straight. Paying close attention should be against the law this early in the morning. She dropped the receiver and ran to the front door. Yanking it open, not bothering to disengage the alarm on the house, she grabbed the envelope that laid at her front door. Delivered by special courier. Suddenly her sister was at the front door. "What's wrong." She yelled over the noise. Becoming aware of the alarm going off and light coming on in the cops house across the street, June quickly punched in the code to turn it off. Amazing that when your occupied you don't hear things. She told her sister what was up, and what the envelope contained. By the time she finished the officer was in her front yard, having just got off work. Assuring him everything was fine June and her sister went back into the house. Opening the envelope the contents poured out onto the sofa. Already knowing some of the contents she started laughing when she held up the key to the mansion she had left on her last visit. Attached to the long skeletal key was a very pink bunny with a twist snap to detach the body from the head. Getting up to make some gourmet coffee she assured her sister that everything was okay and she could go back to bed. "I need to go out of town for a few days though. I'm fixing to call and see what up. After that I need to call and let work know I need a few days off." Knowing how strange her sister was, and about her faction liaisons Sharon made no comment and went back to bed. June went to the phone and called her boss. After talking to her boss and making arrangements to take the next two weeks off she curled up on the couch and call Cousin Mary. Hanging up with the DP godmother June quickly scrambled to her computer. She had some reservations to make. Dialing up to expedia she chose the flight that would get her to Toronto ASAP. Flinching at the cost. Well their goes those tires she was going to get for her car. All for a good cause though. At least the car wouldn't be a problem, she hoped anyway. But from the sound of it, it was time to have some fun. Two hours later, bags packed June was headed out to the airport. Mentally going over her check list she definitely wanted to remember her laptop, maybe she could find the time to update her website. She had made a list of people to call from her cell to tell them she would be out of town. Oh yeah she need to make notes to call about when the courier was going to deliver her computer to the mansion. It was time to set up her home away from home. August Friday 13th, 4pm (EST) With a smile and a promise to call, June got out of the car. The guy next to her on the plane had been nice enough to offer. Even offering to take her to see the lovely sight of Toronto. She turned and started to walk up to the DP mansion. Boy it was still impressive. Seeing a few of the demons peeping around some bushes, she started to grin. It was good to be back. She could let down her hair and play with the little buggers. On the last visit June had taught one of the little guys. She had named her Peep because she seemed shy around the other demons, not to mention they picked on her. It made her think Peep was a very young demon. Using the key she let her self in, noticing it wasn t even locked. Complements of Peep she was sure. Going straight to the kitchen June noticed Mrs. Hitchcock at the stove she set her bags quietly on the floor and crept up behind her. Just as she was about to surprise her Mrs. Hitchcock swung around with a pitcher of froth in her hands. Froth went everywhere. June and Mrs. Hitchcock screamed. The DP s came a running. Everyone piled into the kitchen. The Dark Perk Biker Blonde had arrived. Finis June (^^)**MS**DP**MN**FKP**ETC... :-P THE BLONDE WITH BRAINS mrms_katz@worldnet.att.net "You're just jealous cause the voices only talk to me!" FK Faction Webring http://moonprincess.net/webring/ FK Backgrounds http://moonprincess.net/backgrounds/ From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FBHU-0001Dw-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:57:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1446; Fri, 13 Aug 99 02:55:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4003; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:55:31 -0400 Date: Thu, 12 Aug 1999 23:57:18 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR:Nothers: Opening Shuffle Part 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2512f3ce7c77ef74d599a467e67011bd "Opening Shuffle" written by Fleurette B., NightDancer, & Liz the Lucky Disclaimers: all people used by permsission, although why we're up this early is beyond me! Due to the "shuffles" being made by a couple of Nothers, this story must come *after* the Merc story, "She's a Rainbow." If you read that, you know why. ******** [Chateau des Autres] [*very* early Friday morning (somewhere around 2:4o-something AM)] "Now, don't start until I explain the extra rules." Kat looked up from her cards in surprise. "What extra rules?" she asked, her voice wary. Fleurette just smiled as NightDancer looked at her. "You get to do it, Dancer. I can never remember all the Reichert rules." "Reichert rules?" Kat asked. "Named after a friend of ours who taught us this way," Fleurette explained. "There's not really much to remember, Fleurette," Dancer scolded lightly. "Stack 'Draw Twos' and 'Draw Fours' and pass your hand on a '0.'" "Huh?" Now Kat looked really confused. "Here, we'll demonstrate." NightDancer shuffled through the cards in the stack until she found the ones she was looking four. She put down a red "Draw Two." "Now, in regular UNO, if Fleurette was playing next, she'd have to draw two cards. But in this version..." Fleurette put a blue 'Draw Two' on top of the red one. "You can stack them," Dancer continued. "Now, unless I have a 'Draw Two' or 'Draw Four,' I have to pick up four cards. But if I put down a 'Draw Four,' then Fleurette has to pick up eight. Get it?" "Yeah, I think so. Wow--you could really get quite a lot of cards that way, couldn't you?" "I think the most anyone ever had to pick up in a game I was playing was thirty-two." Jeanne, Fleurette's mother, shook her head. "You girls came up with this?" "Well, Kelly did. Or at least, her family did," Fleurette admitted. "We think," Dancer amended. "So, what about the zero?" Kat asked. "If someone plays a zero, you pass your hand to the person on your left." She grinned. "Trust me, it makes the game *really* interesting." "I'll bet," the other girl mumbled, shaking her head. NightDancer turned over the first card, a red six, and Fleurette played a red eight on top of it. The game circled the group a few times without a problem, until Jeanne played a "Draw Four." "Green," she declared. Kat stared from her cards to the pile. "Okay, now what do I do again?" "If you have a 'Draw Four,' play that and call a color. If not, you have to pick up four cards." Kat had a "Draw Four." NightDancer didn't. Glowering, she selected eight cards. Fleurette giggled. "Well, Jewelz, we could have played it the regular way." Dancer shook her head with a sigh. "No, this way is more fun." She smiled. "Except when you're on the losing end of the rules, I suppose." The whole group laughed. ********* "Hi guys!" a voice rings out from the hallway behind the group. They jump in fright. They turn to see Liz the Lucky laughing at them. "LIIIIIIZZZZZZZ!!!!!!" Kat screams. Then she jumps up and rushes the redhead. "KAATTTTTTT!!!!!" Liz screams in return as she catches her. They meet in a strange embrace of hugs and giggles. "A-hem!" NightDancer says, interrupting their reuinion. "I thought you were with your *other* frineds, Liz?" "You said you wanted me to hire me next War, right?" Liz reminded her, after breaking away from Kat. "Well, here I am." "War?" Fleurette asks, suddenly turning pale. "What's this about War?" "You didn't know it's War time?" Liz realized. "Oh. It is." "No, I didn't know. I've been too busy with the Grand Opening for le Chateau," Fleurette tells her. "Well, now you do," Liz smiled. "So what have you got for me?" "Wait a minute!" Jeanne Stevenson, aka Fleurette's Mom, pipes up. "How do you know there's a War? And who are we fighting?" "I'm a Merc. We always know when it's Wartime," Liz shrugged. "And don't ask me. I'm just the hired muscle." "Right," Kat added. "You're just supposed to sit there and look pretty." Liz stuck her tongue out at Kat. "Trying to make me catch it," Kat teased. "Hey!" Night dancer suddenly exclaims. "Stop that! Will you two *ever* behave?" "Kat, what's behaving?" Liz asked. "Donno," Kat answered. "Well, you'd better learn it," NightDancer continues. People under 21 might be reading this story." "You mean ... list {smerk} innocents?" Liz gasped. "Ewwwwwwwwww." "You know," JJ commented, "Daf is a list innocent." She said the words with a smirk, knowing how much Liz liked the stable boy. "We was just teasing," Liz quickly said, smiling. "What's a list innocent?" Jeanne asked with all the confusion of a newbie. "They're the ones not old enough to read smut," Kat explained. "You know, the stuff Liz and I write a *lot* of." ********** Fleurette slipped off shortly after Liz arrived. Shelet NightDancer and the others teach Liz the ins and outs of Reichert Uno. She snuck off to her office and picked up the telephone, silently thinking on her other faction of choice--Nunkies Anonymous-- and wondering how to explain to them that thier ScoutMistress would not be with them during the happy time to come. Dialing the number for the Shrine, she was answered by the incessant ringing of the phone. "Great! Nobody's home!" she complained, wondering where the all were. Then she remembered that Bonnie, the NA Scribe, had given her her beeper number. "Please Bons," fleurette whispered as she thumbed though her address book to find the number. "Please be near a phone!" The End Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FBKD-0004g4-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 03:00:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7672; Fri, 13 Aug 99 02:58:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4140; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:58:21 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:54:31 -0500 Reply-To: Lisa Luksus Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: CUZ: Excedrin Headache #1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bd18f859c954326938c4f85cdbe1b389 Excedrin Headache #1 by Cousin Tok Time: early morning, Friday, August 13th Place: CERK All folks mentioned by permission Tok rolled over on the bed in her room at CERK, cursing the ringing phone in words unsuitable for a PG-13 list. She cracked an eye open and focused on the bedside clock. Too blank-ing early, especially after her internal clock had adjusted to being around vampires. The phone continued ringing, so she forced herself to sit up and answer. "What the--" "Tok, forgo the usual morning pleasantries and listen to me very carefully," Lacroix growled. "Yes sir!" Tok sprang fully awake instantly. "Find Bob and ... Tser, isn't it? Find them at once and start summoning the Cousins. We shall need all our forces in Toronto as quickly as possible. You have my permission to make plane reservations on the corporate platinum card, if necessary. I know I can trust you not to abuse the privelege." "Of course not, sir. Um ... what's happpened, if I could ask? It's ..." Tok shoved a couple of Cousinly kitties out of the way and scrambled over to the window, pushing back the curtain. "It's *daylight*." "Yes, Tok, I'm quite well aware of that. I expect you to have everything well underway by the time I return to CERK. Within the hour, Tok." "Yes sir!" Tok replied automatically as the dial tone pulsed in her ear. Within the hour. She looked out the window. Yep, that was still daylight. Sunshine poured through her window. Duncan, her black cat (who'd been allowed back into CERK in spite of having dropped a glowing pink rat corpse on the General's head the last time) lounged on top of the dresser. Zorro, an orange tabby and the newest Cousinly kitty, crowded in next to his big brother. Willow, the grey girl, glared at Tok from her pillow. Gandalf and Merlin, CERK's resident vamp kitties, dozed in the warmth of the sun at the foot of her bed. Tok stared at them. Full sunlight. No smoke, no signs of distress. When she touched him, Merlin purred and chirped a greeting. Gandalf gave a 'mrowr' of annoyance and went back to sleep. "Oh boy ..." Tok dressed in record time and ran out the door. She rapped on Bob's door, but he wasn't there. Tser groused at the summons but agreed to start making calls. At least, it *sounded* like it could have been agreement. Tok summoned the elevator and headed downstairs to the War room. Just as the doors closed, a panel opened in the ceiling and Bob dropped through. Yep, War is definitely brewing, she thought to herself. "Hey, Tok, what's up? You're out and about pretty early today. I've just been working on the elevator's--" "Don't tell me. I don't want to know," Tok cut him off. "Get downstairs and start calling the GSS. The General has ordered the Cousins to assemble in Toronto ASAP. Bob, there's some really wierd sh--, um, stuff going on. I'll explain it later. Better yet, *he* can explain it when he gets back. We have less than an hour to get things moving." Bob arched an eyebrow. He was used to the General's sudden orders, although the timing was just a little odd. "On my way, Tok." He opened up a trapdoor in the floor and dropped on through before she could react. The elevator deposited Tok on the War room floor and moved on. Tok trudged into the War room and quickly found the Cousinly address book. Okay, best way to do this was to start a calling tree. She dialed Shelley ' number and waited impatiently. "Hello?" "Shelley?" "Yes, speaking," the breathless voice answered. "Hi, listen, it's Cousin Tok, a war has been called. Can you get to Toronto as soon as possible?" "W-w-war?" Shelley squeaked. "Yes, a war ... will you be staying with the Light Cousins again? Can you let them know?" Shellley agreed, and soon Tok was on to her next call. She made a mental note to restock the Cousinly Treasure-trove of Analgesics as soon as possible. It was going to be a *long* War. ************************** Okay, Cousins, consider this your call to arms. If necessary, your plane fare will be covered by the General, so don't worry a whole lot about *how* you get here. Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #13050398 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FBQT-0004rV-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 03:06:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0095; Fri, 13 Aug 99 03:04:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4625; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 03:04:51 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 01:56:39 -0500 Reply-To: Kalira Isbell Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kalira Isbell Subject: WAR: HAREM: Friday the 13th.....figures (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4a682e47a78218b676c1af1e63130245 Title: Friday the 13th....figures by: KaliraRael, Nick's Harem, wife #22 I should have known. I should have stayed in bed. It was as inevitable as nightfall. A trip to Toronto......was that too much to ask? A nice quiet, uneventful trip. But, nooooo! Oh, it all started out okay. The tickets were paid for, the rental car reserved, map purchased and studied for routes to drive, everything planned down to the letter. I was looking forward to being with my sister-wives. We didn't get together that often, and it would be fun to slumber party with them. I was really looking forward to the "Nick discussions". I was taking the red-eye flight to save money and get extra time with my sister-wives. It started out okay, but then...... I had a plane change in Atlanta. The next flight I was supposed to take, the plane for it failed inspection. There I sat for 5 hours waiting for it to be fixed. Which made me late for my next connection, and it left without me. I got rerouted on a different flight, which sent me west to go east and added another 8 hours to my travel time. **Finally**, I arrived in Toronto! However, because I was late the car rental was voided. There were no more cars like the one I reserved, and I had to take what was left. It was a *lemon*. Seven stalls, 3 construction detours, and one instance of "I'm lost" later, I arrived at the Harem's address. Tired, dirty, angry and without my luggage (which was on it's way to Oregon for some unknown reason), and what do I find? I'm the first to arrive, and I DON'T have the key!!! Anybody know a good cheap motel?? fin From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FBrJ-0006PX-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 03:34:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0154; Fri, 13 Aug 99 03:32:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5534; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 03:32:29 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 02:34:17 CDT Reply-To: Kathy Walsh Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kathy Walsh Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Going to TO To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2fb162b8a0cf268780e4b19d236122a8 3:15pm Tuesday, August 11, 1999 "Whoo hoo!!!!" shouted the brunette standing in the middle of the hallway, reading a letter. "EEEYESS!!!!!!!!" continued she, jumping up and down and clutching the letter to her chest. Well, it wasn't quite a letter. But the older woman in front of her didn't need to know that. "What?" grumped she. If certain Knighties of the brunette's acquaintance thought Lacroix could be cold, apparently said Knighties hadn't met said brunette's mother. Which was quite all right, as far as Kathy was concerned. For indeed her name was Kathy Walsh, and she was traveling to a galaxy far, far away er For indeed her name was Kathy Walsh, and she was traveling to Toronto, Canada to take part in her first FK War. {OK, OK. Sheesh. But this is the last time!} For indeed her name was Kathy Walsh, and she was traveling to Toronto, Canada to take part in FK War 10. {Great. My nit picking, Addict side just had to be elected editor of this post. And Kyer thinks she has trouble with inner conflicts . Humph. Last time. I mean it!!!} 'I mean it' -- and I'm a Knightie .> For indeed her name was Kathy Walsh, and she was traveling to Toronto to show the sleepy little city {That's "where we live" -- and the CDC didn't grow up here, so there. Besides, it proves my point! And if you speak up again about this sentence, I'll mail you to the Knighties for the rest of the war!!!} {BEHAVE!!} {What did you say??} { Yeah, right!} For indeed her name was Kathy Walsh, and she was traveling to Toronto to show the large, yet placid city how to have a good time, Ravenette style. {Ta daa!!} Of course, dear old mama would never believe it. Dear old mama would try to cajole her daughter into doing something less vile in name -- and boring, too. That's why Kathy clutched the paper tightly against her sleeveless pastel purple shirt and lied. She was a pretty good actress, if she did say so herself, so she figured she should be able to pull this stunt off . "It's an invitation, Mom. To go play with an orchestra in Toronto for a coupla weeks." The gray-haired woman looked skeptical. "How much does it cost? When is it? Classes start up soon. I don't want you to miss class for this. Will you be safe? I don't want you to get hurt." Figuring that if she was going to lie to her female progenitor, she might as well maintain civility (kind of hard when being bombarded with questions ), Kathy smiled. "Don't worry about the cost, Mom. I can afford it, what with the money Uncle Luke left me." It wasn't quite a lie as The Other Mikie, she had a friend (a.k.a. Miklos) who managed to skim a bit off Lacroix' seemingly bottomless treasure trove. "Who's Uncle Luke? You don't have an Uncle Luke. Are you talking about Star Wars again?" "No, Mom, I'm not. And yes, I do. He's one of Dad's relatives." It couldn't hurt to confuse the older lady by answering the questions in reverse order . The household patriarch was away for some job training in Denver, so the Queen of the Puckered Brow wouldn't be able to verify it besides, Kathy's dad had an interminable number of relatives and her mom didn't like them. "I won't miss any class that I won't be able to make up for. Actually, it was through the school that I got this invitation. Some of my friends in the flute section with me are going." "Is your buddy the tuba player going too?" Kath sighed. Her mom was convinced she should go out with an overbearing tubaist fortunately, he stood at the back of the marching band ranks, and she stood at the front. This provided less and less opportunities for meddling mom to see them together at football games . "No, he's not." "Are you gonna be safe? I don't want my baby hurt," crooned the ancient. 'I'm not your BABY!!!' thought said flutist. But she didn't say it. It was kiss up time. "I'll be fine, Mom. Don't worry about me." "Are there plenty of supervisors? I don't want you to get raped or anything," continued the She-Angster. This woman made Nick look carefree!! "Mom, trust me! Nothing bad is gonna happen!!!" Kath was trying hard not to lose control. If she slipped, if she seemed vulnerable, intrusive mama would force her into some sort of important thing at church. This lady could sometimes make Nick seem lenient toward people under their respective control! "There are plenty of people with many years of experience who are going to be working at this thing." 'Many, MANY years of experience,' thought the bespectacled beauty wryly. "OK but be careful!" "I will, Mom. Don't worry." 'Like that's ever gonna happen! That's about as likely as Divia marrying Vachon! Heeyyy that gives me an idea for a faction or a story .' She was lost in thought as the elder female drove away from the house where Kathy instructed a beginning flutist. It was only after the sandaled one had gone about twenty minutes thinking of a name for a Divia/Vachon faction -- 'Cold Hearts? Lonely Killers? Hey Vachon seems to like blondes. Hey!!! Almost everybody else on the show is blonde!!!! Hmm Janette and Vachon Raven Beauties? I like it! Betcha the Queen of the Ravens can reform anybody, even the King of the Slackers .' -- that she looked up. Kathy unclasped her hands from the paper and looked down at it. It was Teresa's recruitment pitch. "Victory!" she whispered. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FBuo-0001Qk-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 03:38:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0162; Fri, 13 Aug 99 03:36:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5631; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 03:36:09 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 00:07:59 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: Cuz: Dang Diurnals (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: aaea8edc8c56183036e4e1ba8f2051a2 Time: Before, During, and After "Excedrin Headache #1", Friday the 13th Place: CERK and thereabouts All with permission. Watch out TO, here we come! * * * * Blasted Diurnals. Cousin Tserisa wished they had held the Fair at night, but noooo, they held it during the middle of the sun-shiney day. Messed up her schedule and everything. Most people had no respect for the Nocturnal. Tser had come to Ontario for a Fair and Rodeo, to exhibit her blue Indian runner ducks, Glitch and Sprocket. They had just won blue ribbons, best runners and champions at the county fair in her home of Oregon, and now they had recieved championship ribbons at the Fair in Ontario. Good boys. Tired and confused by the daylight schedule having been forced upon her, she had decided to head to Toronto with her accompanying menagerie for a little of some proper "night life". Oh, she always got looks walking down the dark Torontonian streets... riding an appaloosa horse, a burro trotting beside her, two very very strange looking ducks waddling behind, a very large tarantula on the burro's back, a very evil iguana scurrying around looking haughty, and a dove and a small parrot perched on her horses butt. In fact, some people, upon seeing the iguana, shrieked "Eeeek! A velociraptor!!" and fled away, much to Moses' delight. Others just stopped and stared. Some exclaimed at the strange ducks, "Look! Walking bowling pins!" There was that one traffic accident.... Cousin Gwen had immediately settled in to the NunkAnon Shrine, so at least the streets were free of a dignified toga-clad cat. Back to days of sleep and nights of prowling. Until early morning, Friday the 13th, when Tser's blissful sleep was shattered by the horrible cacophony of a phone ringing, Jabberwock, the Nanday conure parrot, screaming, and Morn, the ringneck dove, cooing up a storm. She picked up the reciever. "Whudyawan?" It was Cousin Tok, and Tser was to get the Cousins alerted and to Toronto for the War. Tser hung up the phone and began to lay down again, the soft pillow looking so comfortable. Suddenly she jumped up. "What? WAR???" She gathered up her animals, sped to CERK and began to make phone calls. "Cousins, this is one-third of Cerberus! War is at hand, and you must come to Toronto!" Calling them took several hours. After putting Smokey the horse and Lavalianna the burro in the Cousinly Stables, Tserisa moved herself and the rest of the Cousinly Critters to her room. "Moses," Tserisa said in exasperation to the golden-eyed, glaring four-foot female iguana, "get off the bed." ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FCFz-0006bt-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 04:00:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1635; Fri, 13 Aug 99 03:58:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6118; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 03:58:04 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:59:48 +1000 Reply-To: TALIESYN@C031.AONE.NET.AU Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Alexander J. Braun" Organization: access one Subject: WAR:RAVENETTES: Arrival at Toronto 13/08/99 06:00 am To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 21b586684f8c634d1e3370b90bbd1a92 As the aircraft was approaching Toronto's Pearson International airport I thought on the e-mail from Kimberly that started this flight it had been awhile since I was in Toronto and I was looking forward to arriving and seeing Toronto again and seeing some of the people I worked with in War 9, Kimberly there are new members in our team that will be interesting. Jumping in to the cab at Pearson I said to the driver Toronto the corner of Richmond and Duncan Street. I hoped all the arrangements I started had been completed and the parcels will arrive at the Raven before Start of War party begins, I've heard strange rumours re this War I have a feelings our faction will be busier in this war more than the last one. I arrived it hadn't changed a bit The Raven still looked the same, strange I smell brewed coffee as I walked in with my luggage looking forward to see Janette and our team for this War I knew one thing it will be fun and done in style. -- Alex Braun - Taliesyn@c031.aone.net.au - ICQ # 12610993 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe". Marcus, B5 From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FCdG-0007Lm-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 04:24:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7855; Fri, 13 Aug 99 04:22:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7170; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 04:22:09 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 03:17:40 -0500 Reply-To: Amy Reed Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Amy Reed Subject: War: Harem: Friday the 13th, what other day could it be? (1/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c2485cfb0951e75febd1ecfbda8fa77f Title: Friday the 13th, what other day could it be? (1/?) by: Randora, Nick's Harem, Wife #1 Date: Friday, August 13, 1999 Time: 3:30am ET Randora could tell it was going to be one of those days. She had been driving for the last few days heading for Toronto. The Wives were planning a get-together and she and Amethyst were the only ones with the keys to Harem HQ. From the looks of things, she wasn't going to be the first to arrive after all. All had gone well until midnight, then everything seemed to start going wrong. Flashback to Midnight: Randora was only a couple hundred miles away from Toronto when he car suddenly sputtered and died. She looked at the trip miles (the gas gauge didn't work) and saw that she was probably out of gas, but there was no way to know for sure. She glanced at the time and saw the clock read, 12:01. She picked up her cell phone, silently thanking Nick for getting it for her last birthday and tried to find the number for her auto club. After pulling *everything* out of her purse, she finally spotted it sitting in plain sight in the ashtray. After a thirty minute wait, she was on the road again with a full tank of gas. 12:45am: Randora takes a wrong turn and winds up many miles away from where she's supposed to be. She finally gets back on the correct road with only an hour's loss of travel time. 2am: Randora can see the lights from the city in the distance and heads toward them. Unfortunately she doesn't notice she is now on a one way road heading in the wrong direction. After a few cars almost hit her, she gets the idea and gets off as soon as she can. After much searching, she finds the northbound lane and gets on it. She sees the sign telling her that Toronto is only 50 miles ahead. She presses the gas and picks up speed. Suddenly she hears a siren behind her. She gets a ticketed for going 80 in a 60 mph zone (note: I don't know how to convert to km.) 3am: She finally pulls into Toronto and attempts to find the Harem HQ, she'd only been there a couple of times. First when she viewed the place and again when she bought it. She hadn't slept much in the last 70+ hours. Needless to say, she got lost ... again. She finally stopped and asked directions. *** End Flashback *** 3:30am She finally pulls up in front of the HQ just as her car sputters once more and dies. She *knows* she's not out of gas this time. It will have wait until the morning. She's tired, sweaty (what can you expect with a car with a busted A/C?) and getting really ticked at the world in general. She got out and looked at the beat up car sitting in front of the HQ and wondered who had arrived first. She walked up to the door and hunted for the key. No luck. She dumped everything out of her purse again while hunting for it. After much searching, she found the key and attempts to unlock the door only to have it stick. Only brute force and much un-PG-13-like cursing was able to get the key to turn in the lock allowing her to enter. She stepped inside to be greeted by dust and cobwebs. They really should have planned to get together sooner if only to clean up the joint. She decided Scarlet O'Hara had the right idea and thought she would think about it tomorrow. She made her way upstairs with her overnight bag ... the rest of the luggage would be fine in the car overnight. She got to the suite she would be using only to find no furniture at all in it. She said another un-PG-13 word and threw some blankets on the floor and curled up on them hoping to get a little sleep. YFITK, Amy Knightie; Dark Knightie; GWDFC Number-One-Wife & Listowner of Nick's Harem; B.R.I.C.K. Listowner: FK-XStitcher -- "Cross-Stitcher of the Knight" fknight@acnet.net fknight@cyberweb.org - TexDKnght (IRC) Forever Knight Web Site: http://forever-knight.virtualave.net My Football page: http://members.tripod.com/~ReedStuff/nfl From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FCmG-0000n9-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 04:33:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1693; Fri, 13 Aug 99 04:31:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7367; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 04:31:24 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 04:33:04 EDT Reply-To: BBHinson@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Rebecca Barker Subject: WAR: Cousins: The Call (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a4387b28f9ac019ccd3a9a30bc467938 "The Call" Time: early morning, 13 August, 1999 Place: Lafayette, Louisiana Becky rolled over in bed. What was this? The phone was ringing, and it was... what time was that on the clock? 3:09 AM? AM? She leaned over and checked the caller ID. Toronto, Canada. "Hello?" "Becky? It's Cousin Tserisa. You've got to get here to Toronto. Right now. There's war brewing." The message was short and to the point, and left no room for argument. Becky sighed. Why couldn't the General have put out a call to arms closer to dawn? She thought again about it. The General had no time for those who were indecisive. "I'll be in Toronto as soon as I can get there." There went the money she and Thomas had been saving for a honeymoon... * * * * * * * * * * end ~Becky From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FEKQ-0002mh-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 06:12:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2125; Fri, 13 Aug 99 06:10:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1861; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 06:10:47 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 03:40:24 +0000 Reply-To: xina@LIGHTSPEED.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Anderson Subject: War: GSS: Way too late at night (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 749db6702669004f241f2a51a8998d5c Title: Way too late at night By: Kimberly Anderson Date: Friday, August 13, 1999 Time: 5:00am EST GSS Agent Ace, rolled over and yawned at the beeping coming from her lap top on the end table beside her Kingsize bed. The room was completely dark, though that was not unusual for any room in this specific location, the GSS headquarters in the sub-basement of CERK radio station, with the electric lighting -the only lighting- turned off. There were no curtained windows for the morning sun to illuminate or send beams through. Which Ace preferred, concidering it a bit rude in the first place for the sun to presume like that. She looked at the soft green glow of the face of her electric clock. 5:00am. She groaned sleepily and rolled over fading back to sleep as the beeping sound coming from her laptop faded into silence as well, having done its duty announcing the war alert. ---- ----Cousin Kim GSS Agent Ace o==|------------ xina@lightspeed.net GSS Site: http://members.tripod.com/~xena1/gonefishing/index.html From - Fri Aug 13 07:10:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FEhh-0003Iw-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 06:36:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0761; Fri, 13 Aug 99 06:34:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2532; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 06:34:52 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 06:36:31 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: Baubles, Bangles & Beads (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3cef1b95c6f2f96d82cd3b46a5bfe5c3 Baubles, Bangles & Beads (01/01) by Cousin Jules Time: 12:30 a.m. Day: August 13, 1999 Place: CERK Participants: Jules and a flashback version of Nunkies Just past midnight, and, outside of maybe Lacroix and Jules, not a creature was stirring at CERK, not even a pink ratsie. Jules sat at her desk and opened up the styrofoam container that she had just picked up from Roppongi. She'd been in a bad mood all evening, and felt she deserved a little treat, at the very least. Opening up the box, the luscious smell of Yaki Soba filled the small office. Jules had decided that if one couldn't spend the rest of the night shopping, then good food would be the next best thing. Her troubles had started just after.... **Flashback** 9:00 p.m. August 12, 1999 ... she'd walked into her office in her non-sensible shoes and relieved herself of her stylish shoulder bag/briefcase/emergency nail kit. Looking down at her desk, she found a large, bright yellow Post-It Note smack dab in the middle of her blotter. In very neat, small letters, it read: "Where are all my pencils? Need flight to NY tomorrow Have you called Janette for more supplies?" Jules sighed. Just once, she'd like to walk into her office and find something nice, like maybe a 'thank you' note for having done a good job; 'keep up the good work' scribbled on her erasable note board after having put in a grueling night screening wacko calls; fetching mugs of hot blood; and making emergency trips to Sam the Record Man because the rest of the staff had either a) come down with the flu, b) a cold, or c) had messed up big time and put an Anne Murray CD in the Nightcrawler's collection by mistake and would never dare to show their faces at CERK ever again. "What am I? 'Keeper of the Pencils'?" she asked the empty room, lifting her arms in the air as if in supplication of some higher being. A moment later, and a tall, black-clad figure appeared in her doorway. "It's not asking too much, is it, Jules, for you to keep me in pencils?" Jules looked at Lacroix from under hooded eyes, just barely restraining herself from uttering, 'And a good evening to you, too.' Instead, she said nothing, merely pulled out her top desk drawer and retrieved a large box of already sharpened, recycled pencils and handed them to her 'boss.' "Don't say I never gave you anything," she told Lacroix. He approached her as she stood there, one hand on her hip, the other leaning against the top of her desk, a bored look on her face. When their noses were a mere two inches apart, he lifted an index finger in reprimand and asked her, "You know, you must learn to attribute better motives to me, my dear. Who knows what bit of fun you may just have missed by not making a ...personal delivery?" With the quirk of an eyebrow and an evil smile, Lacroix turned and, with his pencils, left the room, leaving Jules to imagine what she might just have lost out on. **End Flashback** Things had gone downhill from there. Here it was, 3-1/2 hours later, and she'd seen neither hide nor hair of Lacroix. If nothing else, he usually popped in at some point and said something wicked. Not tonight, though. Nope, it was absolute, utter and deathly silence that assaulted her ears - well, with the exception of the monologue that now lilted over the airwaves and all around the studio. Depressed, Jules dipped into her Japanese dinner and mulled things over. The man drove her crazy sometimes. She could never live with him. Yet, at the same time, like most of her fellow Addicts, she could never live without him. Life just wouldn't be complete without one particular member of the Undead among them. For all his 'flaws,' there were a number of points in his favour. Jules began to mentally make a list when, suddenly, her fork hit something. Pushing aside the noodles, she thought she saw a shiny object, which immediately caused her to look over and under her desk for any Ratpackers who might have been lurking. Satisfied that she was alone, Jules carefully picked up the bauble with her right thumb and index finger and took to cleaning it with the tree's worth of napkins the restaurant had so thoughtfully provided. Julsey thought. She immediately thought of all those movies where the gorgeous hunk puts an engagement ring in a glass of champagne. She was starting to wonder if she ought to run down the hallway with abject apologies when the object resurfaced from her paper napkin. Jules frowned. She examined it for at least a full 10 seconds before pronouncing sentence. "How....bourgeois," she remarked. Jules sniffed, then grimaced as she let her imagination begin to wander. With an "Ewwwww!" Jules closed up the box with half a dinner still inside and tossed it into the nearest rubbish bin. She kept the cube, however - its tacky nature, notwithstanding - and, after dousing it with antibacterial hand cleaner, set it atop her blotter. She was going to get rid of it. She was determined. She could do it. She just knew she could. Really. So why was it so...difficult? End (01/01) ********************** KnightGal@aol.com From - Fri Aug 13 07:20:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FFIX-0004bX-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 07:14:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2258; Fri, 13 Aug 99 07:12:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3704; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 07:12:54 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 04:14:43 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Crossover Confusion To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8d3b2a714481afc73f5b0e2f2710e83e Hello, It has come to our attention that some participants have interpreted the use of the chaos demons in the opening post to be crossovers with the show Star Trek. This is NOT the case. Crossovers are not permitted, nor have we done this in the opening post. The three characters mentioned had *names* that happen to be used in another show, but were never, nor should they be confused with, the characters on that show. The three chaos demons in the opening were, and are their own entities. If you have any questions or concerns, please send a note OFF-LIST to either fkwarlocks@egroups.com or fkwar10leaders@egroups.com More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 07:20:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FFMj-0004fI-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 07:19:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2264; Fri, 13 Aug 99 07:17:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3807; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 07:17:12 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 07:19:01 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: War: DP: Special Delivery To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c75ded13b8044736dce50890a2156848 Waking up late at night, or very early in the morning, is rarely a good thing that shouldn't be wished on anyone. But with the sound of his angry yet worried mother, Martin snaps awake in the motel room. "Mom, I didn't quite catch that. What is wrong?" He had called his mother earlier that night and given the phone number just in case there was any sort of trouble. "Nothing's wrong besides getting a call from the Toronto police." Martin knows its going to be one of those nights, or mornings. "What did the detective say." "Detective Vetter. . ." Martin calms down a bit with the mention of her name. "Says that a War, whatever that is, is starting and to get to Toronto." "Mom, there's no problem. The detective is a friend of some people I know. Thanks for calling. I'll talk to you later. Bye." Martin takes one moment and then rushes around, packing as fast as he can, including a wrapped object that goes first into the duffel bag. He had been having a great vacation with relatives near Buffalo when a friend asked to deliver something Martin finds rather odd to Toronto, a sword of all things. Even when checking with the friend and some other people, he finds that the deal is fully legal, the money good, and the paperwork allows him to simply drive past the border. He murmers something about about getting overtime before dragging himself into the older truck. He could've gotten a better borrowed truck, but none with that unique shade of pink, almost red. Looking at the map for several minutes, he realizes that maybe for once he won't get lost. The large bilingual signs help too in not getting lost. Martin murmers to himself as he tries to open sleep blurred eyes with lots of caffine, "Okay, just a couple of hours to the mansion and some good coffee." He spits out the motel swill and hopes that he can make it to Toronto on soda alone. ___________________________________ Martin _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FGZe-0007eV-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 08:36:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8701; Fri, 13 Aug 99 08:34:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7519; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 08:34:39 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 08:36:25 EDT Reply-To: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Subject: War: FOD: Toronto, here we come! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a91f5c040a41b79f413da2c97c41a890 Toronto, here we come! by FoD Kathy Kuehn using by permission FoDs Rav, Cindy B., and Lori Time: Friday AM Location: Milwaukee, WI "I can't believe I am doing this again!" Rav muttered under her breathe, pulling on her pink drysuit, tucking her fins under her arm. "You can't believe this?? What about me? " Cindy replied, shuttering already at the thought of the cold Lake Michigan water. "Well, at least Kathy got you a fur lined drysuit". Smiling as she said that, Rav's thoughts raced to how that suit will smell if it got wet. A chuckle escaped her lips but Cindy missed the point as she wandered off proudly in her new limegreen outfit. Off, perched on a rock, Kathy had the dive maps unfolded in front of her, lost in thought. Lori, the newbie diver, was cheerfully assembling her dive gear with a smile. Kathy had managed to rent her the most wonderful purple colored dive gear she had ever seen. "OK, group, this time we will take a more direct route. We need to get to Toronto, post haste, but that certainly doesn't mean we can't have fun too." Kathy exclaimed just before slipping from the rock. "Ouch" Rav stood at the water's edge, flopping her fin in and out of the water, actually finding herself excited about the dive. Cindy joined her, warm in her new drysuit and feeling a faint desire to explore some as yet as unknown wreck. Lori stood in quiet meditation, becoming one with the water and Kathy, well, Kathy stood with the largest smile on her face that either Rav or Cindy had ever seen. They were headed to Toronto, to their friends and adventure. What was more exciting than that?? From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FI23-0006Lk-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 10:10:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3532; Fri, 13 Aug 99 10:08:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0239; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 10:08:02 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 10:09:35 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: WAR: Enforcers: Arte Militar (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 18bb8f4b93618f1557b909c76fc8d9d8 Enid grumbled as her phone rang. Caramba, that thing could could like a screaming demon at 4 in the morning. "This better be good..." She hissed into the receiver, wiping some drool of the side of her mouth. "I assure you, it is..." the deep voice oozed back. Enid jumped out of bed a saluted. "Sorry Sir! I was sleeping SIR!" she answered quickly, then realizing she was on the phone, relaxed. "Get dressed Enid. Get to Headquarters now, and bring your files and supplies. I trust you will be in uniform?" The intimidating voice asked casually. "Yes, sir!" Enid said respectfully. After getting off the phone with her boss, The one they simply called The Man in Black. She took a quick shower and packed up her black leather suitcase. "I'd better call a cab." She remarked, noting the time. She quickly threw on her black leather trench coat, taking out a pair of black Ray Bans sunglasses in her pocket. While waiting for her taxi in the hotel's lobby, she quietly sang her faction's hymn to keep her awake. I have seen the traitors talking to the mortals in the land They have told them of our secret but have stayed our killing hand If their mortals prove unfaithful we will bury them in sand The truth it can't be told...... But before she could break into her chorus the cab had arrived. While riding to Headquarters, Enid did her make-up, sliver eye shadow and glossy lips. "I can't fight this war without my Lancome, can I?" She thought to herself. The taxi pulled up in front of Headquarters. "That will be 12 dollars, Miss." The cabbie said, reaching his hand into the back-seat. "Sure thing...." Enid paid the guy, and made sure to give him a hefty tip. Being a New Yorker, Enid learned the fine art of over-tipping. Enid's black, leather platforms made a clacking sound that echoed as she walked through the lobby, and down the stairs. She was welcomed by a deadly stare from her boss. "It's started....Arte Militar" He said grimly. Enid nodded. "Warfare....at last..." She growled, her hands on her hips. "I can't wait....." From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FIiK-0000cU-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 10:53:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3747; Fri, 13 Aug 99 10:42:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3208; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 10:42:48 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:51:50 +0300 Reply-To: dce@dlc.fi Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: dce Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Wake Up! (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: aba6ccb97365512c1c23a35390a76632 Wake Up! (1/1) by Claudia Date: 12/08/99 Time: *Early* morning Bleary eyed Claudia swiped the alarm clock to the floor but the blasted thing still kept on beeping annoyingly. "Oh, all right already!" she mumbled grouchily. With a resigned sigh she finally got up and retrieved the battered clock from the floor, silencing it with perhaps a little more force than what was actually needed to achieve the desired result. Padding over to her computer she logged on and proceeded to munch down her breakfast while checking her emails. Mostly just regular list stuff, as she'd expected but there were also a few personal notes. One of them was marked as urgent. Clicking on the message she glanced at the sender address and smiled a little in anticipation. Her eyes brightened as she read Kimberly's note. There was a war coming up, would she be be interested in joining the Raven/ettes once again? "Am I ever..." Claudia muttered to herself, a wide grin spreading across her face. The morning didn't seem quite so bad anymore. While she finished reading the message her mind was already occupied with listing the things she'd need to do. Arrange some time off from work. Check. Book a ticket to the first possible flight to Toronto. Check. Set the various mailing lists to nomail, just in case. Check. Ask mom to water the plants while she'd be away. Check. Pack some *good* clothes to keep up with the expected Ravenette style. And the choker from the last war. Check. Oh yeah, and remember to reply to Kimberly. ASAP. Leaning back on her chair Claudia finished off her breakfast and smiled. It would be great to meet the friends she'd made during the last war, and she was eagerly waiting to see if they'd have any new recruits this year. And it would be simply amazing to get to meet Janette again.... - the beginning - -- Claude *NA**NatPacker**N&NPacker**HB* http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/index.html From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FJLW-0003f8-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:34:19 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2524; Fri, 13 Aug 99 11:32:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8481; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:32:03 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:30:26 -0400 Reply-To: Caroline Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Caroline Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: Conversion:01/01: Aug. 13, 1999, around midnight To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1de1051417150408f738aa1010d24558 Conversion 01/01 by Caroline LaRoche Friday, Aug. 13, 1999 Minight >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The door gong caused Caroline to mute the bar chord she was desperately trying to hold. Living on the 4th floor of DP Mansion, she didn't even think of bothering to open the door, someone would likely have already routed the visitor by the time she got down to the second floor. And the visitors were rarely for her, anyway. Unconcerned, she turned my attention back to my guitar and butchering the Bon Jovi she was trying to play. A knock interrupted a very sad rendition of "Wild is the Wind." Before she could reply, my door swung open, revealing one very attractive European vampire. "Miklos..." Caroline grabbed a nearby towel to avoid drooling on the guitar. "Yes. Your presence is requested at the Raven." "Really?" She thought back to the last time she was there. They had had to unplug the sound system to shut her up. Clearly, Karaoke Night was *not* going to be a regular draw there. He nodded. "Wear something spectacular." "Why?" "Just do." An audience with Janette was all that *that* could mean. Caroline pulled a formal black dress and heels out of the closet. "What does she want?" Caroline asked, changing her clothes behind a screen. "She asks that you bring music and...weaponry." Caroline laughed. "Literally, or would she like someone dead by my inability to shut up?" He shrugged. "She said.....she said you could have control of the...sound system," Miklos ended in a whisper. Caroline smiled and grabbed her two bulging CD wallets. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> In spite of the relatively early hour, the Raven was almost deserted. Miklos led Caroline behind the bar, back to the club's private rooms. This was an area she had never seen before. He left her in front of an office door, CDs in hand, gig case with guitar on her back. The momentary near silence was almost deafening. "Come in," the accented voice answered her knock. Caroline opened the door on Janette's private office. It was decorated in the same dark, tasteful style as the rest of the club. The vampire sat behind a desk, clad in a stunning off the shoulder dress and gloves and nursing a glass of what could only be blood. Caroline's throat went suddenly dry; in spite of how she had tried to dress elegantly, she still felt like a street urchin in rags compared to the immortal. Caroline slid the guitar off her shoulder. "You...wanted to see me?" "Oui. There is a war brewing, as I'm sure you're well aware." Caroline nodded; the DPs had been planning strategies and attacks for the past few weeks. She hadn't intended to participate much, other than helping with the attacks. Strategy was not her strong point. She was more the provider of the battles' background music. "My faction is...small, only a few members. We want you." "Me? Why? I'm a Dark Perk." "I am aware. But you possess the style and darkness of a Ravenette. Why follow a blonde when you can have immortality on your side?" "Tracy won't drain me and dump the carcass in Lake Ontario if she gets upset." Janette laughed. "Your Thugs do not have Miklos, do they?" Caroline was stuck, because deep down inside, she was a die-hard Mikie. Janette smiled at my inner conflict. Caroline finally sighed and dropped her gig case and CDs on the nearly couch. "You win." "Ah, but the war has not yet started. The others will be here shortly. Have Miklos get you a drink." She waved away Caroline's protest. "I know you are only 18, but you are one of us. Order what you like. Non-alcoholic if that is your concern. When the others arrive," she narrowed her eyes and smiled a small smile, "*that* is when the real fun begins." ************************************* From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FJbM-0003M2-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:50:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0248; Fri, 13 Aug 99 11:44:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9992; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:44:44 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 08:46:33 -0700 Reply-To: Jennifer Louise Mendenhall Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Louise Mendenhall Subject: WAR: Knighties on the Move (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7b599f706028a5c2e0d2e7af012efb0c Title: Knighties on the Move (3/3) by Mindy Dowdy with help from Michele A. Friday Aug. 13th mid-morning PDT Place: Central Cali. Michele A. used with permission After having just returned from an early morning grocery shopping trip, Mindy could no longer resist the urge to log on to check her email and ICQ messages. After scanning thru a vast pile of junk mail...there it was....mail from the Knightie list marked URGENT! "Oooo I wonder," she said to no one in particular. Quickly reading thru the email she discovered it was time to head for Toronto, for a war was afoot. "This could be fun!" She smiled. At the tell tale 'knock knock' sound and flashing icon Mindy noticed that her chat pal and fellow Knightie, Michele had logged on to ICQ, and quickly sent her a message. "Hiya Michele! Did you hear the news?" "Hi Min, yeah I did. I should be in TO by 4pm." "I'm supposed to get there around 4:30pm, wanna catch a ride to the loft together?" "Sounds great! Listen, gotta run and pack. See ya soon!" "Me too! Just be on the lookout for tall, red, and lost in the airport. Tootles!" With that Mindy logged off and scrambled to pack necessities, such as her 'The few, The proud, The Knighties' nightshirt. She buzzed by her mother muttering feed kitty, Nick needs me...War, and was out the door. *** 4:45pm, Toronto airport. Standing up on a chair, Michele catches aglimpse of someone with really long red hair. "Mindy!" she shouts. Mindy turns and looks around for the source of the shouts, and catches sight of a tiny brunette with just a bit of red and blonde highlights reflecting in the sunflodded lobby. She was bouncing and waving on a chair. Mindy grabbed up her bags and waved....whapping some poor guy on the tush. "Ohh, sorry!" She gave him a sheepish grin and dashed off for her friend. Finally reaching the bouncing Knightie and exchanging hello hugs, she grinned again, "Sorry I'm late, told you I'd get lost." "No problem," Michele smiled. "Ready to go see Nicky?" "Am I ever," Mindy said with a huge smile. ***** by Adriana With a start Adriana jerked awake and groaned quietly as she rubbed her sore neck. Now was not the time to fall asleep while at her desk.. now what was it she had been doing ?, she mused blearily.. "OMG" Nancy's e-mail, she realized. "The WAR!!" she gasped. With a shock of adrenaline Adriana leapt up from the desk. The stack of papers that had served as an impromptu pillow showered to the floor with the abrupt movement. A passing glance was all she could afford the messy pile of paper joining other items carpeting the floor. Dashing madly she hurridly stuffef her rollaboard with some clothes along with a few other necessities. Hastily she confirmed the online reservations with the airline. Trust Nick to have it all ready she thought thankfully. An 8:30 pm flight out of Victoria and the 9:30 pm flight out of Vancouver. That was close - at least they were domestic & she knew the airports, bet Nick had realized that too. Adriana glanced at her watch and jumped again, "7:00pm!!" With that she dashed out the basement door grabbing her camping pack on the way out. As Adriana stepped onto the Airport shuttle she mused on the fact that (besides it being a spur of the moment trip to Toronto) no one knew the whole truth; and decided that it was far better that way, messing with Enforcers wasn't a high priority today or any day. Slipping deeper into thought, some corner of her mind wondered what could possibly have spurred the others into such frantic action. She was a newcomer to this world of wars and could only hope to survive this one. *** The digital display on the dash of the cab read 6:15 am.. They were almost at the loft. The car lurched ahead as Adriana gazed around in awe of Toronto, it was big, & alive - and it was dawn. The cab finally made a turn and stopped. Adriana threw a $50 bill at the driver and wretched her luggage from the trunk. Stumbling over the suitcase and pack she dashed to the outside entrance to the loft and slammed the intercom button., "C'mon someone answer!" she thought Some of the others had to be there already. Then the intercom crackled to life and after giving her name the door opened. Finis From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FJbM-0003M2-01; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:50:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0262; Fri, 13 Aug 99 11:46:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0213; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:46:05 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 08:43:32 -0700 Reply-To: Jennifer Louise Mendenhall Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Louise Mendenhall Subject: WAR: Knighties on the Move (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ec79f0ea57da50388799b0612d95adb0 Title: Knighties on the Move (1/3) Everyone used with permission by Chris Rosmini Nick used with permission Just after midnight August 13th, Friday the 13th, actually. The roof of the Loft The middle aged woman rose slowly to her feet, her long skirt snagging unregarded on a thorny branch, secateurs and twist-ties falling forgotten to the ground. Barely breathing, she stared into the eyes of the man who stood before her, bleached to a floodlit spectre by the lights that allowed her to work through the night. She struggled to find a response to his news, an astonishing non-sequitur in her reveries of color and form and fragrance. "Did you hear me, Chris?" He said tentatively, "You don't _mind_ do you?" as though asking her permission. She shook her head slightly. "Mind." She repeated, absently wiping her hands on her skirt and reaching out to lay one palm against his chest;smiling, amazed at what she felt there. "You're not joking! Mind? ... Oh Nick! ... Oh Lord! ... Oh Holy Sh.... Oh ... I have to call the others!" she looked around distractedly at the nearly finished construction site as though a phone might just be lurking there. He laughed joyously, half in relief, and swung her around in a little triumphant dance step. He swept her around the little terrace, skillfully avoiding the bedding plants and bags of potting soil, then spun them to a stop. "You're right, though, I think we're going to need them right away." he said more seriously, but his concern was unable to completely stifle his smile. "I'll make the travel arrangements, you call the Knighties". As they started down the stairs she suddenly looked back at the stone edged flower beds ready for their new occupants and the fanciful new structures poised against the emptiness of the Toronto night sky, the result of weeks of work. Catching his arm, she accused him, "You planned it this way, didn't you?" All the little mysteries odd requests and unanswered questions of the last little while slipped into place in her mind and suddenly made sense. "OK, You set me up." She grinned, "all that talk about 'getting in touch with nature' and 'preparing for any eventuality'!. You knew there would be trouble about this. What the hell sort of trouble _are_ you expecting that needs water lilies and radar? Are we talking about War?" She got a dazzling smile and a cellular phone as her answer, and realized that while she might have built up an immunity to the temporizing of Normal Nick ... even Wistful Nick ... she was no match for this contagious happiness. Still, as she followed him down into the darkness of the Loft she had the ominous feeling that once again events were looming and forces were gathering that were completely out of her control. Only this time she was supposed to be one of the ones in control. ***** by Nancy Taylor Friday, August 13, 1999, early morning PDTime Place: Salem, Oregon Knighties used with permission The call from Toronto woke Nancy from a deep sleep. "Hello? Chris?..." "Nancy? Thank Heavens I got you! I'm at the Loft ... yeah the Loft. Nick asked me to call and tell you there's a War on. I know, I'll explain when you get here, but can you collect Jenn and the Northwest Contingent and get here ASAP? There'll be tickets waiting at Portland International Airport. Yeah, it's that urgent ... and Nancy ... you're not gonna believe it this time." "You're calling from *where*?" She sighed as her fellow Knightie Leader told her of the brewing war. "Of course we'll be there. I'll pick up Jenn and Vickie and we'll catch the first plane out." After telling her ever-suffering family about yet another War fomenting in Toronto, she got dressed and headed out the door. *** "Hello? Anybody home?" Jenn called out as the remainder of the Knightie leadership entered the loft. "Hey, guys, glad you could make it!" Chris greeted the small group. "Need some help contacting the other Knighties?" Vickie asked. "I could use all the help I can get," the harried Knightie answered her. "I got to Katrinka, Terri and Sandra but the rest still don't know. Setting up their laptops, Nancy and Vickie began issuing high priority e-mails to all the Knighties they could think of. Jenn busied herself on the phone making calls. "Nick said he'd have tickets waiting at the airports for everyone coming," Chris told her fellow warriors. "Great!" Nancy answered, adding the good news to her mass mailings. "Just what is the cause of this war, anyway?" she wanted to know. "I got my heart's desire," a familiar voice said from the upper level of the loft. "I'm *mortal*." --most definitely to be continued-- ***** Friday, August 13, sometime well before dawn EDT Virginia The phone rang, waking Beth out of a deep sleep. She quickly grabbed the receiver, hoping that her husband didn't wake up too. "Probably a wrong number," she grumbled. "Hello? What?!? Chris, slow down!" After she hung up the phone, Beth leaned over to tell her husband the bad news. "Honey, I've got to go to Toronto. Now. I'll be back soon." That woke him up. "What do you mean, now? You can't just take off for no good reason. And how are you going to get there? And what am I going to do with the kids and the work and everything?" Beth sighed. "That was Chris. She's at Nick's loft. There's another war brewing, and they need all the help they can get. They've got tickets waiting for me at Dulles. I'll take the laptop. I'll take the files. I've got the phone. But they need me there now. Love you." And with that, she jumped out of bed, quickly dressed and packed, and headed out the door. ***** by: Knightie Chris Forward Friday, August 13th Chris, the Knight Nurse, was just returning from a grueling day among the sick. As she shucked her blood-stained clothes, she pressed the button on the answering machine. Suddenly her eyes were wide open, and her heart pounding: WAR! Time to return to the loft, to Nick, to her fellow Knighties! Racing around the house she snatched up her medical bag, retrieved her black silk jammies purchased in the last war, and dove into the back of the closet for all of the exotic duds she could never wear at home - flowing purple organza with a neckline down to there, tie dyes and bell-bottoms, and black jeans and tee shirts made for skulking at night. A few more last-minute inspirations and she was off. Her husband and son were on the other side of the Atlantic - what timing! A hastily scrawled note to a neighbor to watch the cats, and she was off to Philadelphia International Airport in a cloud of dust. by Chris Rosmini Nick used with permission Just after midnight August 13th, Friday the 13th, actually. The roof of the Loft The middle aged woman rose slowly to her feet, her long skirt snagging unregarded on a thorny branch, secateurs and twist-ties falling forgotten to the ground. Barely breathing, she stared into the eyes of the man who stood before her, bleached to a floodlit spectre by the lights that allowed her to work through the night. She struggled to find a response to his news, an astonishing non-sequitur in her reveries of color and form and fragrance. "Did you hear me, Chris?" He said tentatively, "You don't _mind_ do you?" as though asking her permission. She shook her head slightly. "Mind." She repeated, absently wiping her hands on her skirt and reaching out to lay one palm against his chest;smiling, amazed at what she felt there. "You're not joking! Mind? ... Oh Nick! ... Oh Lord! ... Oh Holy Sh.... Oh ... I have to call the others!" she looked around distractedly at the nearly finished construction site as though a phone might just be lurking there. He laughed joyously, half in relief, and swung her around in a little triumphant dance step. He swept her around the little terrace, skillfully avoiding the bedding plants and bags of potting soil, then spun them to a stop. "You're right, though, I think we're going to need them right away." he said more seriously, but his concern was unable to completely stifle his smile. "I'll make the travel arrangements, you call the Knighties". As they started down the stairs she suddenly looked back at the stone edged flower beds ready for their new occupants and the fanciful new structures poised against the emptiness of the Toronto night sky, the result of weeks of work. Catching his arm, she accused him, "You planned it this way, didn't you?" All the little mysteries odd requests and unanswered questions of the last little while slipped into place in her mind and suddenly made sense. "OK, You set me up." She grinned, "all that talk about 'getting in touch with nature' and 'preparing for any eventuality'!. You knew there would be trouble about this. What the hell sort of trouble _are_ you expecting that needs water lilies and radar? Are we talking about War?" She got a dazzling smile and a cellular phone as her answer, and realized that while she might have built up an immunity to the temporizing of Normal Nick ... even Wistful Nick ... she was no match for this contagious happiness. Still, as she followed him down into the darkness of the Loft she had the ominous feeling that once again events were looming and forces were gathering that were completely out of her control. Only this time she was supposed to be one of the ones in control. ***** by Nancy Taylor Friday, August 13, 1999, early morning PDTime Place: Salem, Oregon Knighties used with permission The call from Toronto woke Nancy from a deep sleep. "Hello? Chris?..." "Nancy? Thank Heavens I got you! I'm at the Loft ... yeah the Loft. Nick asked me to call and tell you there's a War on. I know, I'll explain when you get here, but can you collect Jenn and the Northwest Contingent and get here ASAP? There'll be tickets waiting at Portland International Airport. Yeah, it's that urgent ... and Nancy ... you're not gonna believe it this time." "You're calling from *where*?" She sighed as her fellow Knightie Leader told her of the brewing war. "Of course we'll be there. I'll pick up Jenn and Vickie and we'll catch the first plane out." After telling her ever-suffering family about yet another War fomenting in Toronto, she got dressed and headed out the door. *** "Hello? Anybody home?" Jenn called out as the remainder of the Knightie leadership entered the loft. "Hey, guys, glad you could make it!" Chris greeted the small group. "Need some help contacting the other Knighties?" Vickie asked. "I could use all the help I can get," the harried Knightie answered her. "I got to Katrinka, Terri and Sandra but the rest still don't know. Setting up their laptops, Nancy and Vickie began issuing high priority e-mails to all the Knighties they could think of. Jenn busied herself on the phone making calls. "Nick said he'd have tickets waiting at the airports for everyone coming," Chris told her fellow warriors. "Great!" Nancy answered, adding the good news to her mass mailings. "Just what is the cause of this war, anyway?" she wanted to know. "I got my heart's desire," a familiar voice said from the upper level of the loft. "I'm *mortal*." --most definitely to be continued-- ***** Friday, August 13, sometime well before dawn EDT Virginia The phone rang, waking Beth out of a deep sleep. She quickly grabbed the receiver, hoping that her husband didn't wake up too. "Probably a wrong number," she grumbled. "Hello? What?!? Chris, slow down!" After she hung up the phone, Beth leaned over to tell her husband the bad news. "Honey, I've got to go to Toronto. Now. I'll be back soon." That woke him up. "What do you mean, now? You can't just take off for no good reason. And how are you going to get there? And what am I going to do with the kids and the work and everything?" Beth sighed. "That was Chris. She's at Nick's loft. There's another war brewing, and they need all the help they can get. They've got tickets waiting for me at Dulles. I'll take the laptop. I'll take the files. I've got the phone. But they need me there now. Love you." And with that, she jumped out of bed, quickly dressed and packed, and headed out the door. ***** by: Knightie Chris Forward Friday, August 13th Chris, the Knight Nurse, was just returning from a grueling day among the sick. As she shucked her blood-stained clothes, she pressed the button on the answering machine. Suddenly her eyes were wide open, and her heart pounding: WAR! Time to return to the loft, to Nick, to her fellow Knighties! Racing around the house she snatched up her medical bag, retrieved her black silk jammies purchased in the last war, and dove into the back of the closet for all of the exotic duds she could never wear at home - flowing purple organza with a neckline down to there, tie dyes and bell-bottoms, and black jeans and tee shirts made for skulking at night. A few more last-minute inspirations and she was off. Her husband and son were on the other side of the Atlantic - what timing! A hastily scrawled note to a neighbor to watch the cats, and she was off to Philadelphia International Airport in a cloud of dust. From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FJct-0002GZ-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:52:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2651; Fri, 13 Aug 99 11:45:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0089; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:45:20 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 08:47:00 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: WAR: NA: An Addict, a Bus, and a Boyband (01/03) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 622fd7ac7d5e9ab245ce19e6146d1e96 NA:"An Addict, a Bus, and a Boyband" (01/03) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time: 4:00pm, Thursday August 12 Place: Philadelphia International Airport ************************* "What do you mean my flight has been over-booked?!?" Cousin Tiff yelled out of frustration and anger. The ticket attendant just looked at her like he had seen it all before, and this girl was no different than any of the other 7 people that came before her. He answered her in an even tone, "I'm sorry, miss, but there are no more seats available on this flight. We can provide you with a flight voucher, and see about getting you on different plane to Toronto." Tiff took in a deep breath and reluctantly agreed. "I to get there before tomorrow night. Can you get me to Toronto before tomorrow night?" "I'll check, miss." As the ticket attendant searched for the next open flight to Toronto, Tiff could hear a man yelling nearby. She wanted to know what was going on. "The flight can't be canceled!" A middle-aged gentleman stated. "I'm sorry, sir, but there are problems with engines, and it wouldn't be safe to take off," a different ticket attendant stated. "I've got 20 pre-teen girls dying to see 98 Degrees of Five Backstreet Syncs. If I don't get them there, they'll kill me. You've never had to deal with this many boy-crazy little girls, they're like a pack of ravenous wolves!" The ticket attendant didn't know what to do. This man was correct, he had never dealt with that many pre-teen girls before, and the thought of it frightened him dearly. He picked up the phone, and dialed. He mumbled a few moments, then hung up. "Sir," the ticket attendant stated, "the airline feels terrible about your situation and wishes to arrange for another mode of transportation to Toronto." 'Toronto?!?' Tiff thought to herself. 'Did that man just say he wants to go to Toronto? When?' "We can arrange for a charter bus to leave tomorrow at 5:00am. It should arrive by 5:00pm, in time for your concert." This was too good of an experience to pass up. Especially for Tiff's documentary *An Addict at War: the Story of a Girl, a Whole Bunch of Other People, and one Ancient Roman General* Perhaps the title was too long, but heck, it was still a work in progress. Anyway, perfect opportunity, not to be missed. "Miss, I've found a flight that you can take." Her ticket attendant said, interrupting her train of thought. "What?" Tiff asked. "Umm, can I just get my money back? I, uh, have other arrangements." End part 1 *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:42 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FJmJ-0003ov-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:01:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2697; Fri, 13 Aug 99 11:53:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0862; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:53:09 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 08:44:57 -0700 Reply-To: Jennifer Louise Mendenhall Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Louise Mendenhall Subject: WAR: Knighties on the Move (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5a74e54425c14ea363ad2f0d7e487751 Title: Knigties on the Move (2/3) By Zo Friday, August 13th, 1999 Early Afternoon MDTime Place: Calgary, Alberta, Canada The music reverberated through the small apartment with a deafening pitch. It traveled through the tawny halls, bouncing off the hardwood floors, flinging itself fitfully into the ears of a small brunette, who sat squinting at a large canvas. Her combat-boot shod foot kept pace with the distorted cellos and high-pitched voices resonating from her stereo. Brushing back her dark tresses, Zo arched her back, critiquing her work. She scrunched up her nose as her green eyes flicked across the red and gold hues of her composition. She pursed her lips, displeased. "Bah," she snorted in frustration. She shook her head, focusing her attention on the harmony, in hopes of a quick distraction. Suddenly, with a dramatic flare, she belted out the chorus in a tone-deaf fashion of the "Rasputina" song that filled her apartment's innards. For several moments, she wailed and warbled until the adamant and slightly distressed pleas of her computer shook her from the not-so melodic mantra. "Hmmph," she said, uncurling her legs. Languidly, she rose and trudged through her kitchen. She stopped, snatching a bagel, then padded towards her computer. She tumbled down in front of it, and tore into her snack voraciously. With a twirl of the mouse, she peered into the kaleidoscopic display. An email notification flashed across the screen - "1 New Message". She shrugged and opened the email, her brow furrowing. Her green eyes danced across the message once, then repeated their sweeping movement again eagerly. Her jaw dropped as the words entered her brain - Urgent, Toronto, Knighties, War, and Nick. Zoe blinked in disbelief and bewilderment. With wide eyes, she scarfed back the remaining bits of the bagel and bolted out of herchair, surprise and a hint of nervousness lacing her pale features. In a chaotic whirlwind of cargo pants, toothbrushes, and other essentials Zo stood, tensely in her living room, packed and ready to go. With a quick phone call to secure her cats^ welfare, she threw on her leather jacket, grabbed her backpack and toolbox, brimming with paints and pencils, and bounded out her front door. *** After an hour filled with a myriad of curses, signal lights, and hand gestures, Zoe stalked into the Calgary International Airport. Hastily, she claimed her waiting airline ticket, and scurried to catch her plane. With the gate found and window-seat haggled, Zoe, nervously, sat aboard her flight that would take her to Toronto, to the rest of the Knighties and to whatever mayhem lay ahead. She eased back in her seat, and shut her eyes, her thoughts flashing back to the blinking message. It was only then that she realized that she had left the stereo on. *** After a tedious five hour flight, she emerged from Pearson, fidgety and anxious. Letting out a deep breath, she set back her shoulders and straightened, her hand reaching out to signal a cab. Within moments, she was within a speeding car, headed for the loft, where she hoped her foreboding and worry would soon be at an end. Zoe (aka Kris) Dark Knightie... UF...Ravenette...FKPagan... and *ever-so-slight* Cousinly Tendencies ***** by Eowyn The weather was hot! It didn't take a rocket scientist or a meteorologist to figure that one out. All one had to do was look out the window at the brilliant sunshine or walk outside into a natural sauna to realize that West Texas was in the grip of summer. To make matters worse, the electric company was begging its customers to cut back on unnecessary usage of electrical appliances to avoid a power outage. Eowyn had tried to do her part by turning off lights and keeping her computers turned off. Finally, to keep her Inbox from getting too stuffed, Eowyn decided to download her e-mail at least. "Oh no!" Those two simple words heralded a flurry of phone calls to neighbors and relatives, the emptying of Eowyn's dresser and closet into a large suitcase, throwing two dogs and two cats into her pickup and roaring down the road to her parents' house. She dropped off the animals with her mom and dad and watched them shake their heads with disbelief as they faded in her rearview mirror. Three and a half hours later, her pickup stowed in remote parking,Eowyn approached a ticket counter at DFW International Airport. "Do you have a round-trip ticket for Eowyn?" "Yes Ma'am. I need to see some identification." After an exhaustive search in the overlarge totebag that doubled as her purse, Eowyn produced her driver's license and passport. She shifted from one foot to the other with impatience as the clerk studied the items and then handed them back to her along with the ticket. Eowyn raced for the gate indicated on the ticket and made it through just as it was closed. Settling into her seat in the first class section of the plane, she finally had time to think. Her first thought..."Bye-bye heat, hello delicious coolness!" The "Oh no!" that had precipitated her headlong flight to the airport had been a reaction to an e-mail, several days old, sent by Nancy, her Knighties 2IC. Nancy had summoned her to Toronto and that could only mean one thing...a War was brewing. ***** By: Knightie Gemsong Time: just after midnight Friday, August 13th Place: Silver Creek, Georgia Nancy used with permission. Knightie Gemsong sat at her computer answering the endless e-mails that filled the screen. All at once an urgent message caught her eye. It was an All Knightie Alert from Nancy Taylor. Gemsong opened the e-mail and read that War was brewing and all Knighties were needed at the loft ASAP. It sounded like this war was definitely starting off with a new twist, but she decided to get the particulars when she arrived in Toronto. After informing her husband that he would have baby duty for a couple of weeks, she packed and hurried to the Atlanta airport to pick up her ticket and head for Toronto. After arriving at the Toronto airport, she hailed a cab and headed to the Loft. Once there, Knightie Gemsong was greeted by the leadership and anxiously awaited the news of what this war would bring. From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FKAP-0003kF-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:26:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2949; Fri, 13 Aug 99 12:24:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4720; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:24:50 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:25:36 EDT Reply-To: Libratsie@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: Ratpack: BETTER LATE THAN NEVER (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: aa71fa9ba4656612dcf2bad4dd9b807a RP: BETTER LATE THAN NEVER by Libby Singleton an' Johnsie Ewan DISCLAIMER: All real life people used with permission. Johnsie Ewan, leader o' the Ratpackers, set behind the table o' junk gettin' more than a bit on the bored side. 'Course h'is sale o' used shiny pretties might be goin' better h'if he wuz somewhere 'sides the countless Ratpack tunnels wot ran unner Toronto. Marissa, a new Ratpack recruit, sat beside 'im, as did Michele, a veteran o' the Ratsie sort. H'every so offen they would sigh h'in unni-son. "Ain't these War thingees suppose ta be h'on the ad-vent-a-rice side?" Marissa h'asked. "Yeah," Michele said. "H'usually they are. H'if Oi'd known Oi'd jest be a sittin' 'ere, Oi'd be h'out shoppin' h'in the artsy kewl dis-trict. Oi promised me roommate anudder pair o' leggin' thingees." Johnsie h'opened 'is gabbin' hole wot ta put h'in h'is Looney's worth when 'e 'eard a doggie woggie's deep bark echoin' down the tunnel. First 'e thought h'it might be Heather wit' 'er pooch, then 'e realized a bark-n-bay loik tha' could h'only come from a Bassett. "Libs!" he shouted. "Things h'are bound ta be livenin' h'up a bit now." The Libratsie came trottin' h'inta view wit' a mostly Bassett type o' dawg h'on a leash. The beastie wuz keepin' h'up wit 'er despite 'im runnin' h'into this side o' the tunnel an' tha. Johnsie realized the Bassett wuz blind which meant h'it could h'only be Barnabas. Tha' fact kind o' puzzled the droog cuz o' h'one thing. "Uhr, Libs, Oi thought the Barnabas dawg passed away ta the place where h'all good ol' dawgies go." H'after a hug fer both Johnsie, Melissa n' Marissa, Libs nodded. "'E did, tha's the truth. Jest this past Sunday. But Oi wanna 'ave one last romp wit' 'im h'as a mean ta say the bye-bye. Figurin' this 'is a Forever Knight War, an' thussy no one h'ever dies, no one H'EVER dies an' h'all tha' jammy-jam. Thought h'it might be jest the h'activity wot ta rememberative 'im by, eh?" Barnabas bayed happily h'in response, waggin' na jest 'is wagger, but 'is body h'in its entirety. 'Course bein' blind, 'e 'ad 'is butt h'in the di-rect-tion 'e meant ta be barkin'. "'Ave ya seen Screed yet?" Libs asked, pettin' Barnabas' back. "The call wot tha' 'e needed h'us wuz bought ta me by a wee lil' ratsie wot braved me terrier Gilbert Gottried ta bring h'it to me." She turned to Marissa, "The terrier loiks ta get a bit rough wit' ratsies, ya know. Tha's why Oi left 'im wit' me udder Bassett LaFayette and me kitties h'at me adobe" "H'aint seen the droog," Johnsie said. "Cuz ya h'ain't di-rectin' ya peepers h'in the roight way," a familiar heavily cockney accented voice said. Screed stepped h'out o' the shadows, breathin' 'eavily. "Gotta ketch me breath. Ol'Screed ran h'all the wayz 'ere n' there down this-a-wayz cuz Oi thought ya might be lurkin' about." "Ran?" Marissa asked. "Why did ya na take ta flight?" Screed blushed a bright red and stared at the worn toes o' 'is combat boots. "Kin't fly no more. Kin't make me fangees come ta show. Kin't stand the thought o' slurpin' h'on the squeakers." "Ya mean ya're....?" Libs started to say. "MORTAL!" Screed wailed, then nodded forlornly, and there were few things as forlorn as Screed on the downside. Johnsie looked at Libs, Libs looked back, then they both exchanged looks wit' Marissa n' Melissa. With all the sympathy a RatPacker could muster they all asked at once, "Kin we put yer first steps inta sunlight onna webcam hin case ya hexplode we kin make a bundle!?!" Screed perked up at the mention of makin' a bundle but replied, "Oi hain't gunna hexplode sos yew'll be laffed at and called sharly-tens." Johnsie and Libs nodded in unison, shrugged their shoulders, "Aye, we gits laffed hat alla time anyhoo." she said. "We IZ sharly-tens when theys profit hin hit." 'e said. Screed shakes his 'ead, bewildered that 'e is the voice o' reason with this lot. "Iffen ya dew that then the Henforcers will be on ya!" and sat back, knowing the two before him were cowards to the quick. Libs looked concerned, but Johnsie smiled. Screed got worried, Libs brightened; they both knew Johnsie smilin' was a baaad thing. "Iffen ya hain't no vampire, then the Henforcers hain't no vampires neither wif no Henforcer-meanie powerz an' iffen we tells they hain't no vamps ta find hout 'bout thusly no 'secrit' ta protekt!" Libster nods, "Tha's logic, that iz. I kin tell cuz h'it give me the 'eadache." "Logic? Logic! Oi'm sick ta me death o' logic!" Screed snapped. "But, tha's the foirst time Oi've h'ever used logic," Johnsie pointed h'out. "Jest don't think Oi'd letcha da h'it agin," Screed snapped again. "H'aren't we bein' the pickle puss n' gloomy gus ta'day," Libs grumbled. "Wouldn't ya be a bit h'on the bitchy side h'if ya were force-ably re-movemented from ya'r 'appy state h'az a rat-slurpin' carouche ta live a life o' the mortality?" Screed said. "Got me a case o' the PMS, Oi do. Put h'in Mortality Syndrome!" Barnabas slobbered n' whined h'in sym-phonicisity wit' the former carouche-sort now plan o' mor-tal down-n'-h'outer cauzin' the 'ole lot o' droogs ta go, "Ahhhhhhhhhhh." * * * * A gray colored rat looked much like every other rat lurking through the Ratpacker's tunnel except for the name tag reading "Kenny" which it gained during the last War. Kenny heard every word of the Ratpack and Screed conversation. Not that it could comprehend the entire thing, after all rats were really too intelligent to understand Screed speak. However, it understood enough to realize that if Screed couldn't slurp rats anymore, then the rat community was about to enter into a state of Utopia. Kenny turned and squealed to the rats that it was time to breed, to multiple, to take over Toronto. The era of the rat was about to begin. --END??? Comments n' such ta: LibRatsie@aol.com From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FKVU-00066I-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:48:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0773; Fri, 13 Aug 99 12:43:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6755; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:43:59 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:36:38 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: A Taxing Situation 1/2 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1bffbbc587fa209c9338445d7e45bec0 NA: "A Taxing Situation" 1/2 by Patt Elmore Time: Mid-day, Friday, August 13, 1999 Place: Shrine of Nunkies ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It always amazed Patt how life could be so carefree one moment and so hectic the next. It seemed like only yesterday that the Shrine of Nunkies has been her refuge, her home away from home, her place of solace and reflection and *General* enjoyment. Now, it felt like the Atlanta airport, the IRS and Taco Bell all rolled into one. At the moment, the Third Cousin was busy examining used tooth brushes, trying to pick out the ones which would be serviceable for grout duty. There had been a lot of that (grout duty) during the prior summer months, as a very disturbed High Priestess had taken out her stresses by assigning cleaning for even minor NA infractions. After returning from her vacation in the Caymans, Jules had taken one look at the unattended Shrine disrepair, rendered punishment, then firmly ensconced herself at CERK, dutifully taking care of Nunkies' business needs. Upon returning on occasion to her quarters, she would vent her discontent and levy more cleaning. That, and other circumstances, explained why the Shrine was so deserted of addicts, with only two or three in residence at the moment. The NA membership seemed to be avoiding the Shrine like the plague. Even the Scribe, Bonnie, an icon on the premises, was missing. And, she'd been missing for several months. Not a peep out of the redhead . . . not a whisper or gush of air. Annie had made an appearance and left quickly afterwards, claiming urgent business in the States. All attempts at e-mail contact had been returned marked *this address is not accepting mail from you.* Patt had considered leaving the Shrine and returning to Louisiana, but due to several outstanding warrants (all of them bogus), she had decided to remain in Canada. Cost of living being what it was, she was staying at the Shrine, even under such trying circumstances, since in theory it seemed to be more comfortable than sharing the Sacred Stables with Tracy Camel and the General's chariot team. Patt finished her bristle inspection and returned sixteen of the brushes to their copper holder in the Sacred Cleaning Cabinet. She had just closed the door, mentally ticking off what other chores she had to take care of when she suddenly remembered. Today was *the* day. Since the last Forever Knight fic War, the Shrine had hosted a branch of Revenue Canada in what had once been the NA Video Room. Gone were the wonderful videos featuring Nunkies, only to be replaced by teaching films explaining the importance of proper tax reporting and the penalties for trying to stiff Her Majesty's Government. The tax folk had proved a minor nuisance, pretty much a disorganized bunch of suits who had arrived each day at 9 a.m. and left at 5 p.m. They were an investigative arm of the Revenue department, so the traffic level had been minor until about a week ago, when an expansion had been announced. Today marked the opening of the full service Queen Street RC Branch and the arrival of a new head tax officer, one Alfred Pectin. When the expansion had been announced (Patt just happened to be close by when the taxers got the word-- couldn't help over-hearing, you know), a hushed whisper had come over the revenuers. Now, the day had arrived and with it Mr. Pectin. Time to go meet the neighbors, and maybe find someone with authority to understand that housing the tax branch at the Shrine was a mistake and it would be better for everyone if they moved about ten blocks further down the street. The mature addict walked briskly through the deserted Shrine main altar area. The sound of her footsteps on the heavy marble floor, echoing off the columns, sounded creepy to the Third Cousin, even in daylight hours. Patt thought, hurrying her step just a bit. Patt wasn't even sure if the HP had come home to her sleeping quarters last night, but she wasn't willing to risk that she hadn't. Patt's fingers were already numb from excessive tile scrubbing. The addict turned left, entering the long, wide hallway which led to the north section of the Shrine. Here were the rooms which kept the addicts occupied: the Sacred Showers and Sauna rooms, the Greenroom, the Game room, the desecrated Sacred Cold Pond and what had once been the Sacred Video Room. Patt stopped outside the heavy wooden door, looked at the Revenue Canada placard once more and, with a sigh, pushed the door inward. The buzz of conversation halted immediately, as all eyes turned to stare at the addict. Patt offered the agents her most winning smile. "Came to meet the new boss," the Third Cousin announced. "Is Mr. Pectin in?" Like the Moses movie, the mass of tax folk parted, giving Patt a clear view of a door which led to a newly sectioned off area of the video room. Flashing another smile, Patt went over to the door, rapped once and opened it. "Mr. Pectin, my name is Patt Elmore, and I'm here to report that a grievous error has taken place. Your branch office is here by mistake and it would be wonderful if you all could move down the street about ten blocks to that deserted red brick building which I am *sure* is where the government meant to put you in the first . . ." Patt's voice trailed off as Alfred Pectin swung his chair around so that he faced the addict. He looked good sitting down, but when Pectin stood up . . . he was indescribably delicious. Broad of shoulder, hard at the hip, firm of muscle with just a nip of a mustache--when Patt's eyes finally looked far enough up to catch sight of his features. Pectin's face was the color and texture of finely weathered leather, framed by neatly trimmed salt and steel-colored hair. Under rather thick, dark eyebrows, two incredibe hazel eyes glinted at the addict. The shading vibrated somewhere between olive green and azure blue, flecked with gold. Patt's voice caught in her throat and she did what any normal red-blooded American addict would do under the circumstances. She began to salivate. Pectin, however, did not give any indication of being impressed by the woman who had burst into his office. The eyebrows continued to knit tighter, waiting. Finally, through clenched jaw, the agent-in-charge spoke. "I was warned that I might be approached by a woman claiming that this office was at the wrong location," Pectin said, eyeing the addict carefully. "I have already consulted with home office and been assured that we are in the correct building. I assume, therefore, that you are the cleaning crew, for I cannot think of any other reason for you to be at this location. It is my instruction, therefore, that you leave my office at once. All cleaning will take place after 5 p.m. I will not have my agents bothered while they are trying to do their work." Patt's mouth had gradually fallen open as Pectin spoke. His voice was deep, accented with just a smidgeon of Montrial French and downright appealing. His words, though, when at last they sunk in, began to roil in the addict's brain. "Cleaning crew?" Patt said softly. "Cleaning crew? Listen here Captain Poop . . ." "Major," Pectin corrected. "RCMP, retired. Not that it's any of your concern, of course." Patt's eyes began to glaze, and she shook her head to stay focused. "I'm sure that this conversation has merit on your part," Pectin continued, "but, as I'm sure you are aware, this is my first day at this assignment, and I really need to return to my duties. If you do have a valid issue to discuss, please make an appointment with reception and I will see you in, say, three weeks?" Still dazed, the addict simply nodded. "Well, good," Pectin's lips spread into a thin smile. He sat back down and returned his attention to the paperwork on his desk. "Dismissed. Now, off with you, good woman, and be sure and check the ladies' room on your way out. There was some indication that one of the drains was a bit slow." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Continued in Part 2/2 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FKVV-00066I-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:48:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0791; Fri, 13 Aug 99 12:45:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6984; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:45:37 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 09:47:18 -0700 Reply-To: Allie Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Allie Subject: WAR:N/A:Opener:TINKER,TAILOR,HITCHHIKER,SPY To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3c5229c5fd9fd06ab35fbe0c87d50ad0 TINKER, TAILOR, HITCH-HIKER, SPY By Alicia Member of good standing, sitting, and jumping around of NUNKIES ANONYMOUS Settnig: Enroute to Toronto Perks MIRANDA and JENNY appear with their permission as well as that of Cousin Mary (I hope I haven't left a darn thing out) I know Toronto. Its my town, so I thought getting down to meet up with my faction, Nunkies Anonymous, would be easy. I had an advantage over all the FK freaks who had to fly in, bus in or chug in from other parts of the world. Hah! As the owner of a long series of dirt cheap old rustbuckets, I should have known better! Didn't my Chevy Crapalier (TM-sort of) conk out on Hwy 404, after an exhausting day at the Zoo, just a week before? And on the way home from work two weeks before that?? Well, there I was, trekking roadside with a large carryall (and I do mean ALL) bag and shoes that weren't made for walkin', perspiring in the black leather pants I had bought just for this occasion (joining the pack,I mean, not hiking from my car)and probably looking too pissed off for anyone to consider abducting. Just the same, I felt nervous when a car that looked even worse than my own pulled over on the shoulder ahead of me, the front right tire actually mounting the curb. I slowed down a bit, parched and anxious for a drive, but cautious just the same. Then I realized that the car was a "Rent Wreckage" rental car, driven by two very young women. A petite girl with black hair and brown eyes grinned out the front passenger window at me. "Was that your pile of rusty tin littering the road back there?" she joked. Her friend laughed from the driver's seat. I gave her transport a meaningful look. "You should talk," I grinned. "But we didn't BUY this," she topped me. "We just rented it." I laughed and nodded. "Touche. Yes, that's my trash. Where are you going? Anywhere near Bloor and the subway?" She frowned suddenly and pulled a windblown map up from her lap. "I think so.. We need to get downtown." She turned the map all the way around, squinted at it, and then turned it right over. Now here was a pair who needed assistance! "Hop in," her tall brunette friend suggested. Gratefully I opened the rear door and tossed my bag in. Even more gratefully, I noticed a mixed skid of pop on the floor at my feet. "Help yourself," the driver said. "You look like you need a drink! Too bad we don't have anything to mix with! I'm Jenny, by the way." She veered off the curb suddenly and we hit the road with a thump that almost knocked me over. I quickly did up my seat belt, looking her over surrepticiously and wondering if she was really old enough to drive. The girl with the map turned around to smile at me and get a pop for herself. "I'm Miranda. What are you going downtown for?" I paused for just a second, briefly considering telling the truth. "Shopping," I lied. "Meeting someone for a shopping trip." It would just be too hard to explain to most people about Forever Knight and factions and war and - well you know. They'd think I was weird. "We're meeting up with people too," Miranda said. "If Miranda doesn't get us lost," Jenny quipped. "Or if Jenny doesn't get us killed!" Miranda's quip ended with a shrill squeak as we almost t-boned a pick-up truck. "Heard of a stop sign, moron?" Jenny shouted. "It was a two way stop, actually," Miranda corrected tactfully. "He didn't have one." "Oh. Well he still should have been watching where he was going," Jenny shrugged. I realized I was holding my soda with white knuckled hands and willed myself to relax. Miranda reached back for another one. Wow! She must have inhaled it! "So, where are you two going?" I asked. They looked at each other and laughed, embarrassed. "Sorry," Jenny explained, looking over her shoulder. "We are meeting up with a..sort of club. Its kind of weird." "Well, not really weird," Miranda added. "Not kinky weird or some kind of religious cult--" "Just fun weird," Jenny said, smiling back at me. I wished she would watch the road when the traffic was so busy. "Oh damn," she muttered as we found ourselves in a jam up. "Pass me my book, Miranda." Instead Miranda tossed it back to me. "You're not reading Star Trek while you're driving," she protested. "Not again!" I blinked. What on earth had I gotten myself into? I wondered if I should offer to drive, since I knew the way pretty well, but decided that Jenny might be offended. "Why isn't anyone going in that lane?" she was saying. "Its clear." She swerved into the lane and accelerated as Miranda shrieked: "Its blocked for construction!" We swerved back into the jam-up again, forcing our crumpled old body in front of someone who had a paint job he really cared about. "Thank you sweetie," Jenny said to him. "You can't tell me what kind of fun weird the club is?" I persuaded. "I won't laugh at you.." "We-e-e-ell," Jenny replied as she looked at Miranda. "You might find them kind of..perky," Miranda chuckled, just as Jenny said, "Have you ever watched Forever Knight?" I was speechless for a moment. Heard of it?? I came close - SO close - to telling them that was what brought ME downtown too, but uncharacteristic caution kept me quiet. But "Perky"! They were with a rival faction! I mean, we're all fans of the same show, and its not like they'd kick me out of the car...but.. "Its this really cool show about vampires," Miranda began and she began to explain the whole premise and all the characters, with Jenny pitching in, usually while glancing over her shoulder and dragging the whole car sideways with her. I felt rather foolish making her explain it all but I'd missed my chance to fess up. I just nodded and said, "It sounds good. I'll have to watch it." "So when we get down there we're going to play pranks on each other, like last year we snuck into Nunkies headquarters--" "They're fans of Lacroix," Jenny explained. "--and made his statue look like a clown." I smiled to myself. If only they knew! "This year we've got lots of ideas," Miranda continued, and she began to lay one of them out for me. It was an attack on my own faction. 'Oh my god!' I thought. 'I'm being given this information! I can pass it along to my faction leader! Maybe get recognition from Nunkies himself!!' Then I remembered the small Radio Shack voice-activated recorder that I had stuffed into my backpack. I'd originally bought it after my sister was harassed at work, determined that no boss would get away with doing that to me, but brought it along on this trip so that I would remember all details of any mission I was given. From the shelter of the backseat, I easily retrieved the recorder from the pack, turned it on and held it out of sight beside my right leg. "Could you speak up a little?" I asked. "The wind makes it hard to hear." Miranda and Jenny obligingly rolled up their windows and spoke loud and clear so that I wouldn't miss a word. As I smiled back, pretending to share the joke, I felt a stab of guilt. I was spying on people who had rescued me from a long, miserable trek in the heat to find a taxi, and I hadn't factored taxi fare into my expenses on this trip. I considered turning the recorder off and forgetting what I had heard, or at least, only recording one plan (these girls had a wealth of sneaky ideas!). I could play fair. But war isn't fair, I remembered. And this was my chance to impress Nunkies! Betraying good samaritans was a very Nunkies thing to do! There was a close call once when I had to change the tiny cassette. Jenny smiled at me in the rearview mirror and I wondered if she could possibly have seen..but no, she could only see my face and shoulders, most likely. She wouldn't be smiling if she'd realized I was recording them. When the harrowing drive was over and they finally let me out on the sidewalk on Bloor Street, I thanked them and Miranda unexpectedly held out her hand. I almost shook it with the recorder still in my hand, but then she said, "Here, I'll throw out that empty can for you." "Oh!" I laughed, and handed her the can, shoving the recorder into my leather pocket with difficulty. "Well, enjoy your.. club meeting," I said, waved and turned away. "Have a good shopping trip," they countered replied, and I could hear them doing some kind of upbeat chant about their faction as they headed the other way. Yeah, they were perky, all right! I pulled the recorder back out of my pocket and hit the rewind, then play. "--going to swap the cake with one that's got--" Fast foreward. "--pink slip and bows--" Fast foreward. "--we'll be hiding in the--" I couldn't suppress a grin. Being evil can be fun! --report submitted by Alicia _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FKn8-0006Gb-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:06:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0918; Fri, 13 Aug 99 13:01:35 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8793; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:01:35 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:10:26 +0100 Reply-To: "Tracy S.Morris" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Tracy S.Morris" Subject: War: Vaqs: Now that's an enterance (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7d53e53d0bc3b00f9a9566d931a91da5 Now that's an entrance (1/1) As one, the Vaqueros rode into Toronto on harnessed thunder. Half of the Vaqueros anyway. As they rode under the street lamps, the light skittered off of their black leathers not so much reflected as it was repelled. Two-by-two, they turned up Bloor street. Around them, Ravenettes nodded in approval at their stylish entrance. Knighties clucked their tongues in disapproval, as if they just knew that the Vaqueros were up to no good. 'And they're probably right,' was the thought in each Vaquero's head as he or she passed. "What's going on?" A nameless tourist asked as he watched the procession from the window at Buckstars. In the seat next to him, Captain Reese dropped his water into his lap. 'Oh Crap,' the captain thought as he watched the group pass. They were the sort that made the Hell's Angels look like a procession of Shriners. 'It's going to be another one of those wars.' He turned to the tourist. "You picked a bad time to vacation in Toronto," He said forbodingly. "If I were you I'd find a nice, safe basement and hole up there for about two weeks." The idea appealed to him more and more. He picked up his cellular phone and dialed home. "Denise," He spoke in clipped tones as his wife answered. "Load up the car. We're vacationing in Yuma." Let the first and second season Captains handle this mess. If there were two things he'd never understand, it was serial killers and people who participated in war. *** The Motorcycle procession downshifted as they neared their destination. Before them an abandoned church stabbed it's skeletal finger of a steeple into the sky. The old church had seen better days. A fence that looked like an old man's broken teeth surrounded it. A memento of wars past. Inside the fence, leavings of horse, goose, camel and only-the-powers-that-be-know-what else were piled in great heaps. All the motorcycle-engines died at once. The silence that remained was almost pregnant with expectation. The few animals that accompanied the Vaqueros were turned loose in these pens to scamper and dig, roll and bury things that were best left buried. The center of the Vaqueros, a young-looking man with old-looking eyes stepped from the church. Moonlight glinted from his glossy long black hair. In his arms, was a tabby cat with Mackerel stripes. He watched in some amusement as the mostly-female procession climbed off of their triumphs and started pulling guitars, sleeping bags, suitcases and boxes from their saddle bags and the trailers that were hitched behind them. Although the Vaqueros were indistinguishable from one another under their dark clothing and equally dark helmets, he was able to pick out a few of his followers by their mannerisms. Stephanie was the one playing with the Keeshounds, JoAnne also played with her nine cats and dog, Cliff was obviously the male, although Vachon couldn't figure out why he had a bunch of stuffed animals in a cauldron. Or how he got it stuck on the back of his Triumph. And Tracy Sue, the Vaqmommy always wore her whiffle bat slung over her back. Various bits of long hair peeking out from underneath helmets identified others. One girl pulled off her leather jacket, her sleeveless vest revealed multiple tattoos across both arms. 'This must be Imajiru Mackenzie,' Vachon raised an eyebrow in delight and surprise. He had heard of her, and often tempted her to join his ranks, but he never expected to actually see her wearing a Vaquero leather. She saluted Vachon, then with a dark grin turned away muttering something about Jell-O that his sensitive ears couldn't quite catch. Inside the Church, Felicia was stowing her martial arts gear and Melissa was talking on the phone to her children. As Vachon strode into the room, he almost stepped on Tammy, who had dug out her guitar and was plucking a tune. Next to her, Tabitha was playing accompaniment on her didjeridu (pronounced did-jury-do). He stepped over Tammy, and made his way to where Tracy, Fiona and Emma were staring out the window and talking to each other. "Is this everybody?" he asked. "Not quite," Tracy Sue said. "Some of the other Vaqueros had to find other means of transportation." Just then a black limo pulled up out front. Out of it stepped a woman with brown hair and eyes. "That looks like Becky." Tracy Sue commented. The woman only walked a few steps, when a man stumbled after her. He looked like Brad Pitt. They all knew that he wasn't Brad Pitt, though. Brad Pitt was probably off doing something that didn't involve appearing in a fanfic war. If he had been Brad Pitt, we could all probably have been sued. So for the sake of the story, he only looked like Brad Pitt. He crawled on his hands and knees behind Becky. When she refused to be swayed by his begging, he grabbed her calf, and blubbered onto her boot. Becky looked disdainfully down at the look-alike, kicked him aside, and sauntered into the church. Over the air, strains of Wagner sounded. Tracy looked at Fiona, confusion written on her face. Fiona in turn looked at Emma. Vachon looked for a radio. But there was none to be found. Imajiru stuck her head in the door, her eyes bright with excitement. "Incoming!" She screamed. Seconds later, The roof of the sanctuary collapsed inward under the weight of several large suitcases. The Vaqueros came running. "Are we being attacked already?" Tammy asked. She was breathing heavy, with good reason. The falling debris nearly crushed her. "I don't think so," Tracy Sue said. "Unless somebody thought it would be funny to throw their underwear at us, It's just the other Vaqueras." She looked up at the hole in the roof irritably. "Someone tarp that off. And go get those church-trashing thugs." "I'll go." Vachon said. "But it's daylight outside." Tracy Sue argued. Just then Vachon crossed the sun-dappled floor. "Ay de me! you're mortal! Vachon smiled at her as he walked through the crowd of stunned Vaqueros, and out the door." *** The CN tower did what the CN tower does. Which is to say that it broadcast radio signals. Occasionally it was of passing interest to tourists. Once in a blue moon, someone came along who had to hug it's base. But for the most part, it didn't trouble itself with such things. Over the air, strains of Wagner sounded. This was definitely not coming from the tower. A slew of brightly colored hot air balloons drifted up to the tower to the tune of Flight of the Valkiries. There were rainbow-striped balloons, blue balloons, red balloons, a balloon that looked like humpty dumpty, one that looked like a big Canadian lake beastie, and a Korbel Champaign bottle. When the balloons were within spitting distance of the CN tower, several leather-clad women jumped out. Donna, Maria, Echo, Erica, Sarah and Teresita jumped from the baskets. Quickly, they deployed parachutes, and drifted to the ground. Not to be outdone, Rae slithered over the side of a final basket, and rappelled to the ground. The effect was spectacular. Between the music and the Vaquero commandos, the impression was that the group was ready for war. Too bad the only people to see it were a group of Dark Perkulators. And they were so busy singing 'Kill de' Wabbit, Kill de' Wabbit,' along to the music that the effect was lost on them. "Excuse me," Echo called out to the Dark Perks. "Have any of you seen Private Ryan?" The Dark Pink thugs ignored her, turned up the street and disappeared, still singing their song. "Ah, well," Rae knelt and polished the tiny statue of LaCroix that was still stuck to her boot from war 9. "It was still a good entrance." "Hey Rae!" One of the balloon pilots yelled from above. His balloon was composed of multiple rainbow panels. The banner tied to the side of his basket proclaimed that the 'Somethin' Sweet' candy store was pretty good. "Yeah?" Rae yelled back up. "Tell Tracy Sue Hello!" With that he released a handful of suckers. The suckers drifted down on tiny parachutes that the pilot's wife hand made out of colorful cloth. The Vaquero Commandos snatched them greedily, and tucked them into multiple pockets. "Teresita," the champaign bottle's pilot called down. Teresita looked up expectantly. She had worked the chase vehicle for this pilot before. "If you need any champaign for this war thing, it's on me. You Know . . . If you win or anything." Teresita started to explain that there were no winners in this kind of war, but decided that there wasn't time. Instead she'd just tell him that they won, and collect the champaign. "Will do!" She called out cheerfully. The balloons floated away with loud bursts of flaming propane. "Now all we need is a taxi." Rae complained. As if on cue, a long black limo pulled up. Vachon stepped out, looking overly concerned with his commando troops. The girls gaped at his appearance in full sunlight. "You guys, that was dangerous!" He yelled, grabbing for the closest Vaquera. The group of women jumped back quickly. Only Maria was the slowest to jump, so it was she that Vachon pulled back. He checked her for bruises as he cursed in Spanish. Rae felt his forehead while he was checking Maria over. "You're warm!" She reached for the vein in his neck, and jumped back when she felt a pulse. "You're mortal!" "I'll explain later." Vachon said shortly as he continued to check Maria over, muttering darkly in Spanish. Both because Maria spoke Spanish, and because she was getting checked for bruises in some blush-worthy spots, she was indeed blushing furiously. The rest of the girls lined up eagerly to get checked for bruises as well. When Vachon finished, he pointed to the limo imperiously. "Don't ever do that again!" he said angrily. The women hung their heads and drug their feet as they walked to the limo. But the second Vachon's back was turned, they grinned at each other evilly. Already planning another death-defying stunt that would have Vachon checking for bruises again. Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Ask me about joining the Vaqueras for war 10 Vaquero's war page at: http://members.xoom.com/imajiru/ From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FKtv-0006jv-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:13:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4899; Fri, 13 Aug 99 13:11:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9803; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:11:51 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:09:16 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: A Taxing Situation 2/2 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c42d4635c9bcd6b70129c8313654549c NA: "A Taxing Situation" 2/2 by Patt Elmore Time: Mid-day to early evening, Friday, August 13, 1999 Place: Shrine of Nunkies LaCroix used with the permission of the Cousin leadership Supaige used with her permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ For just a moment, Patt could only stand and stare at the now seated Alfred Pectin. She felt the heat rising on the back of her neck and started to open her mouth to speak. Pectin looked up again, his eyes slitted. "Dismissed." The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Patt turned and left the tax office. The mature addict was smart enough to realize that negotiating during the throes of meltdown was not an intelligent endeavor; at least her years of Nunkies addiction had paid off in that respect. No . . . better to leave, regroup, research and come back strong. Pectin struck her as one of those who would require facts and figures to understand things, and Patt would have to do some more preparation to deal with his analytical mind. And, as altercation and cogitation tended to tire the Third Cousin, Patt took the next logical step in achieving her ultimate goal. She laid down on the nearest divan in the deserted Shrine altar room and promptly fell asleep. She was still napping when Supaige came downstairs just in time to allow a delivery service to bring several large, heavy boxes in through the Kitchen/Lab entrance. She was still napping when the five o'clock rush out of the former Video room took place. She was snoring contentedly while Monsieur Cabon fumed loudly from the Jeweled Peach as tax personnel leaped and bounded through the Shrine/restaurant exit, headed for their vehicles and the promise of home and hearth. She was smiling in REM contentment several hours later when something approached her. Patt's nose began to itch. Never opening her eyes, she frowned and slapped at the nuisance. Again, a tickling sensation assaulted her and she swatted parallel to her face. Something cold, yet warm, caught her hand, squeezed it warningly, then released it. Patt's eyes flew open and quickly focused on the specter standing above her. Amazing how the sight of LaCroix could make the Third Cousin lustful, weak, scared and dizzy all in one quick flux. Fearing she might throw up from fear and shock, Patt kept her mouth shut and decided to simply nod in acknowledgment of his presence. LaCroix removed his eyes from the mature addict and gazed around the room. "We're alone, I see. How . . . odd." Patt suddenly decided that prone in front of Nunkies might not be the best position to be in. She slid sideways and scrambled off the divan. Standing now, she faced him and waited. "Perhaps, though, solitude is best for the business we have to discuss," LaCroix said, his smile of intimidation quite polished. "How are the Shrine repairs progressing?" "What repairs?" Patt spoke before thinking. LaCroix did not look pleased. "The repairs needed to return the Shrine to pre-War 9 condition," the vampire continued. "The sandblasting of the busts, the repaving of the Pond, the scrubbing of the walls, the cleaning and mending . . . you do understand those concepts, don't you?" Patt nodded, then quickly shook her head. "No funds." "Excuse me?" "The account in the Caymans was frozen," Patt began to blabber. "We think that the Mercs did it, got the city to re-zone and put the tax office in here, and then we couldn't find our club permit, and our tax exempt status, and then the assets got attached, and no funds, no fix-up . . ." Patt shrugged as her voice slowed to a halt. LaCroix did not look pleased. He waved his arm out, indicating to a variety of additions to the decor which had not been present at his last visit to the NA residence. "What is all this, then? The candles, the potted plants, the wreaths and ribbons, the . . ." he sneered in consternation, ". . . pillows." "Petty cash and donations," Patt replied, smiling proudly. "We did really good in our efforts to spruce the place up for Annie's homecoming party, don't you think?" LaCroix's face darkened. "I will see to the release of your funds and add sufficiently to them. You will see to the needed repairs and some . . . renovations." "Me?" Patt's voice got very small as she began to realize that LaCroix had a plan and it involved her. LaCroix's eyebrow shot up, causing Patt's stomach to lurch dangerously. She watched in growing horror as he reached inside his Armani jacket and removed a bound scroll. Patt's thoughts protested as she recognized the ivory-handled parchment. "No," LaCroix corrected, his voice gentle but firm. "That potato salad induced tryst between us last War was a . . . fantasy. This," he moved to the nearby altar and began unrolling the document, "is your reality. Come here." Obediently, Patt moved to his side. She looked down and gasped as she grasped the concept he was addressing. "As you are well aware, the NA membership has been increasing at a pronounced rate, not that this surprises me. The current floor space of the Shrine is woefully inadequate to provide appropriate worship space for my loyal followers. As such, I have seen to the obtaining of permits to undergo certain constructive renovations to the premises." "Huhh?" LaCroix smiled. "You're getting a face lift." Patt patted her cheeks, dumbfounded. "The Shrine," LaCroix explained patiently. "These are the blueprints for construction to the Shrine . . . to begin immediately. If this Shrine is to be a monument to me, is should be grand, don't you agree?" Just a bit confused, Patt nodded. "Good," LaCroix continued. "It appears that some of my fellow vampires have fallen victim to a temporary illness which has robbed them of their immortality and unique skills." Patt's eyes flew open in disbelief. She started to speak, but the look LaCroix gave her rendered the Third Cousin's voice mute. "To provide respite, shelter and gainful employment for some of my kind while they are 'under the weather,' I have taken the liberty of engaging contractors from the Community and have decided that you are the best choice to serve as their on-site liaison." "ME?" LaCroix's voice was low and patient. "Jules is busy at CERK, Bonnie is . . . indisposed, and Annie has too many other concerns at the moment. Most of the other addicts are too susceptible to vampire-induced meltdowns to be proficient at dealing with Community workers, so you are the logical last choice for this assignment." "I thought you said they weren't vampires anymore," Patt protested. "That," LaCroix glowered at the short woman, "is a *temporary* condition. They might revert at anytime, and I want someone in place who will not fall easy victim to their preternatural charms." "Me?" Patt's voice was a choked whisper. LaCroix stared at the women, his eyes holding her. "Didn't you point out to me last War your ability to deal with situations? Didn't you remind me that you took care of the *Spark* matter quite effectively on your own? This then," he snapped his fingers and smiled down at the pale woman, "--piece of cake." He turned, but then paused and returned his glare to the addict. "And get rid of those awful orange cushions. If you cannot secure the proper shade of blush, it would be better to have none at all." And, with a dismissing nod, he strode from the room. "Hey," Patt found her courage, once he was well out of sight. "What do you want me to do? I don't have signature authorization on the Cayman's account. I don't know nothin about construction and codes. They're not orange they're peach! And . . . what is with all the *War* references?!!! And, why are you walking?!!!" But of course . . . he did not answer her. ************************* The end 2/2 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FL16-000740-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:21:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3333; Fri, 13 Aug 99 13:19:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0517; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:19:03 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:20:47 -0500 Reply-To: treeleaf@IO.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Margie Hammet Subject: WAR: Inka Flight One aka Kyer's arrival in Toronto (1 of 1) Predawn, Friday To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e1d506b6dfbc026a737502e07b1e8d8d War: Inka Flight One aka Kyer's arrival in Toronto (1 of 1) Written by: Kyer en Ysh Time: Predawn hours of Friday, 13th of August, After "Winds Of War" _________________________________ Kyer stumbled a bit on unsteady feet as she found herself once more on solid ground, but a strong arm caught her. Turning, she straightening the fabric of her dark, woolen poncho before taking a step backwards in order to execute a deep bow to her benefactor without accidently thwapping him with her bulging pack. "Gracias, Warrior Huaman! I am most appreciative of your willingness to provide transport. I do not know how I would have managed the trip without your kind assistance". The Inca nodded gravely in return. "I do not like leaving you here alone; you are like little atoc--wild and full of mischief, yet I feel an odd disquiet in the spirits. Something is not right in this. Shall I still wait the two weeks before taking Senora home? Grinning, Kyer nodded eagerly. "Yes--- and thank you for the stories of Twantinsuyo! Perhaps one day we can catch some of the Quechuan Festivals? Travel with the sariri? The Inca smiled at her pleading manner. It was not often he found one of the Invader's ancestry so genuinely taken with the culture that had raised him. "I look forward to it." He slowly levitated upwards. "May Inti watch over you as you go into battle." "And may Illapa and Mama Quilla protect you from his fierceness." Farewells said, Kyer hoisted her backpack and adjusted a guacho-style hat; shivering. Plucking a red jalepeno from the coca bag around her neck, she stuck it in her mouth and began to chew, savoring the warmth of the hot food while surveying the Canadian landscape thoughtfully: wishing she knew what the Inka had meant concerning the spirits-- and why she had been asked by her CotK friends to come to this alien place. Drat her brother for not writing down the message! She shivered again. By the Fangs of Agua Fria Freddy--- this Great White North sure was cold! Temprature felt like it was plumb down in the seventies (F). Seventies in August? Kyer grimaced, surpised her breath wasn't visible and thankful it wasn't snowing. Where the heck was that global warming when you needed it? She reached back and petted the full-body llama puppet strapped onto her bag. "Well, here we are, Mr. Spitz. I don't suppose you brought along the piece of paper with directions to the Comfy Cottage?" The puppet--as usual---kept its thoughts quiet. Kyer sighed, "I thought not. Better find a phone booth." A grin spread across her face. "Or we could go to the Loft instead? I remember *that* address! Hehehe." The synthetic llama toy was a picture of disapproving silence. Kyer's face fell. "Yeah, you're right, Mr. Spitz--- the CotK first. Darn obligations." ________________________________________ End of post: Inka Flight One (1of 1) From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FLCx-0000T4-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:33:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5024; Fri, 13 Aug 99 13:27:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1299; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:27:36 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:11:41 +0100 Reply-To: "Tracy S.Morris" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Tracy S.Morris" Subject: War: Vaqs: The Unhappy Vaqmommy (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0fa60202f526d18c8d179293dad6754f The unhappy Vaqmommy (1/1) Tracy Sue stared darkly at the hole in the roof. She always wanted a skylight, but not this way. She turned her gaze on the group of hot-air ballooning Vaqueros, and fingered her Whiffle Bat O' Doom (tm). "And who's idea was it to unload their luggage over the church?" Rae stared at her boots. For a minute Tracy Sue thought that she was staring at the tiny statue of LaCroix that was glued there during war eight. The Vaqmommy was tempted to thwap her with the whiffle bat, when Rae finally returned her gaze sheepishly. "Seemed like a good idea at the time." She said softly. Tracy Sue rolled her eyes. Above her, JoAnne and Tammy were trying to keep their balance while stretching a tarp over the hole in the roof. She was about to give the women a blistering reply when Vachon tapped her on the shoulder. "What?" "It's really not that bad, Tracy. Why don't you just let it go?" He said. "Not that bad?" She fumed. "It looks like we dropped the Caddy though the roof, and it's not that bad?" "No, really. It's not." He smiled disarmingly at her. Behind her back, he gave a thumbs up sign to the Vaquero commandos. The group of them sighed in relief. But that wasn't the last of the Vaqmommy's worries. "So how did you get mortal?" She asked Vachon. "I wish I knew." he said softly. For the first time, Tracy Sue noticed him playing with a pendant. He handed it to her as he spoke. "I woke up this morning, and I was breathing. When I looked around, this was outside on the door mat." Absently, he picked up a tabby cat with mackerel stripes, and stroked it's coat. Tracy ignored the cat. She had seen it before. Vachon adopted it at the end of war nine to keep him company, and named it Carmen. What interested her was the pendant. It was a flat hexagon with odd shapes carved into it. "Do you know what this means?" She traced the shapes with her finger prints. "Not a clue." Vachon frowned. "Right." she flagged down Fiona. "Nafs, you're research girl. See if you can't find out what these symbols mean on the internet." Fiona took the odd pendant, and went to set up her computer. "Now the rest of us have to prepare our attacks for the other factions." Tracy Sue continued in a businesslike manner. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that, TS," Vachon started out of his trance. As he set her on the floor, Carmen the cat protested by clawing at his leather boots. "Shoo, Carmacita," he waved the cat away, and returned his attention to the Vaqmommy. "I've been thinking." "That's always dangerous." "Very funny. What I was thinking was that we always spend so much of the war either attacking other factions or retaliating. I think we'd have more fun if we enjoyed each others' company rather than getting caught up in pranks." "Are you loco?" Tracy Sue pushed a hand against Vachon's forehead. "Not defend ourselves against the Cousins? Or worse, the Dark Perks?" "Nope." Vachon grinned. "In the past couple of wars I've had my bike and guitar stolen, been glued into a cow costume and had my hair cut. It's a little embarrassing, but nothing permanent. "We've already done the worst thing we can to each other." He pointed to the now ventilated roof of the church. "If someone tries to knock the whole thing down, we could always move." "Move where?" Tracy Sue asked doubtfully." "Tracy's apartment." Vachon's grin turned wicked. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind putting all twenty of us up." Tracy Sue sighed. "I guess that this is a bad time to tell you about the jello. "What jello?" Vachon followed Tracy Sue's gaze out the nearby window. Outside, Cliff and Imajiru were busy pouring liquid jello into a shallow moat. "Oh you're kidding me!" He ran for the door of the church. "At least now I know what the Cauldron's for." "Was he serious?" Sarah asked. "'Fraid so." Tracy Sue replied. "That can't be the Vachon I know." "Maybe it's not Vachon." Melissa said. "After all, the Vachon we know is a Vampire." "That's a plausible idea." Tracy Sue said. "But how would we know for sure?" "Torturing a confession out of him is out," Stephaine said. "He just might be the genuine article." "Maybe we should try to obtain some DNA?" Echo suggested. "Nah," Maria said. "It wouldn't match anyway, because he's not a vampire." "We'll think of something." Tracy Sue said. "Right now we'd better get that hole in the ceiling tarped down. We still have to get ready for the party at the Raven tonight." Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Ask me about joining the Vaqueras for war 10 Vaquero's war page at: http://members.xoom.com/imajiru/ From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FLJI-0000Fw-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:40:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3393; Fri, 13 Aug 99 13:25:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1183; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:25:53 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:23:14 -0500 Reply-To: "Christella M. Stillman" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Christella M. Stillman" Subject: WAR: NA: Small World After All (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5f7d3ee4247b4d6d367ca0837e1a048f NA: Small World After All (1/1) By: Christy Stillman Time and Date: Noon, EST; Friday, August 13, 1999 Place: Atlanta Airport Note: Jeffy and family are purely fictitious, though similar families may be found in using mass transit worldwide. I give myself permission to appear in this post. The crowd in the Atlanta airport was as thick as fleas on a blue tick hound as Christy made her way toward the connecting flight for her final destination--Orlando, Florida. Ah yes, two weeks away from the family and theme park hopping with her friends was going to be *so* wonderful! Standing on tiptoe and holding the big-eared black beanie firmly on top of her head with one hand, the short redhead examined the row of monitors and tried to determine from which gate her flight was scheduled to leave. There it was! Concourse B, Gate 14. She checked the overhead directional signs and headed out. "B-14, B-14, B-14, Bingo!" she giggled to herself. Okay, so the short-term memory was going, but if she repeated it enough, she'd be able to get there just fine. A little maggot...er...toddler darted in front of her, and she stopped short. A hand snatched at the tot, who managed to evade the grasping appendage quite neatly. Christy had to admire his agility--especially since he wasn't *her* kid. The giggling little boy headed for the nearest Godiva chocolate stand screaming, "Chock-it! Chock-it!" Well, at least the little brat had good taste, though it certainly seemed that he had consumed more than enough sugar for one day. "Jeffy! You come back here! We'll never get to our flight at this rate! What was that gate number again?" asked the weary mother. An equally weary father replied, "D-9." He cornered dear little Jeffy and scooped up the howling youngster. They trudged off, leaving Christy to pick the little darling's lollipop from her shirt where it clung tenaciously to one of the large black ears of her favorite corporate icon. "Sorry, Mick. Some people just have no reverence," she said, making a futile attempt to brush away the sticky spot desecrating the object of her affection. "Okay, where was I headed? Oh yeah. Gate D-9." *********** Settling back into the not-so-comfy coach-class seat, Christy popped another Dramamine and waited for the drowsiness to kick in. Good thing the pills made her sleep through flights despite the noise and turbulence. She could already hear a strident female voice pleading, "Jeffy, please sit down dear. No Jeffy, don't do that. Jeffy, you *have* to wear your seatbelt." She pitied the people who would have to sit near Jeffy without the benefit of chemically-induced stupor. At least it was only a two hour flight to Orlando. Maybe they could all go that long without somebody stuffing sweet little Jeffy into an overhead compartment like so much carry-on luggage. Soon the jet began taxiing down the runway. Allowing the gentle pressure of take-off to push her back into her seat, Christy laid her head against the cabin bulkhead and began to snore softly. Some time later, the plane began its descent, causing the redhead's ears to pop. Bleary eyes opened as the flight attendant's voice came over the PA system. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the fasten seat belts light. We request that you now return to your seats, fasten your seat belts, and return all seats and tray tables to their upright and locked positions in preparation for our landing in Toronto. We thank you for flying Air Canada and hope you will consider our airline for your future travel needs." Green eyes snapped open as adrenaline pumped through Christy's system. Toronto?! Air Canada ?! What had happened to Orlando? She slapped her forehead. Her luggage. It was in Orlando, and she was about to land in Toronto. All she had was a carry-on crammed with books and crossword puzzles. Oh great, did she still have her birth certificate in her tote bag from her first trip to Toronto or had she gotten "smart" and removed it before this trip? Digging through the stack of books, she found the somewhat rumpled proof of citizenship at the bottom of the tote and breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay," she thought. "No need to panic. I'll go to the Shrine and call my friends, and then I'll see about making flight arrangements for tomorrow." She groaned softly as she pictured her fellow Disnoids' mirth. "They are *never* gonna let me live this one down." After the flight landed, she caught a taxi and gave the driver the address of The Jeweled Peach. As the cab drove away, Christy headed toward the kitchen/laboratory entrance to the Shrine. Opening the door, she slipped inside. From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FLJL-0000Fw-01; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:40:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3455; Fri, 13 Aug 99 13:35:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2132; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:35:26 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 12:35:31 -0500 Reply-To: Monica Thadine Rodriguez Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Monica Thadine Rodriguez Subject: War: Horsies and Kitties and Addicts... Oh My To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d8fa4e68897c9cce6ba2f1114616ca83 >Horsies and Kitties and Addicts... Oh My. >by: Jennifer Lee and Patt Elmore >Time: Friday, August 13th, 1999 >Place: Sacred Shrine to Nunkies > > > Jennifer stepped out of the car and breathed deeply of the cool night= =20 >air. Finally, she was in Toronto. Okay, so maybe she was on the outskirts. =20 >She couldn't exactly have the horse van pull up to the Shrine. > Getting permission to come had been tough. Luckily, there was going= to=20 >be a clinic hosted by one of the continent's premier horsemen, and she'd=20 >gotten her parents' consent to come. > The small trailer pulled up in the field. The driver got out,= Jennifer=20 >filled out the paperwork, and the trailer pulled away once she'd unloaded her=20 >horse. He was a tall, dark bay Thoroughbred gelding. His name was Coup. It=20 >had been mispronounced by her friends from the day she'd met him, so=20 >insteading of saying "coo," as she should have, she called him "coop." > He was young, eight years old to be exact, and a very intelligent,=20 >energetic, and talented animal. The perfect match for her. He constantly= =20 >challenged her skills. > Jennifer pulled the good show bridle from her bag. Nothing but the best=20 >would do if she was taking him to the Shrine with her. Once she'd placed the=20 >dark, scrolled leather headpiece on and put the reigns over his head, she put=20 >on her helmet. She firmly believed in the use of protective headgear by= all=20 >riders. Now ready, she grabbed his dark, flowing mane and swung up onto= his=20 >back, wrapping her long legs around his slender barrel. It felt good to have=20 >his muscular body under her again. He was excited about being in the open.= =20 >It was time for a good run. She squeezed lightly with her calves, and he= =20 >moved forward into a long, flowing trot. > Both were breathless when they got to the Shrine. Jennifer had let Coup=20 >canter part of the way, and the adrenaline rush was still there. > Jennifer put Coup up in the Sacred Stables. She took care of his=20 >grooming needs, and refreshed his water and hay while he munched on his feed.=20 > Then she cleaned her tack and put it up in the small area she was allowed.= =20 >After waving goodbye to Coup and the other horses, she walked into the Shrine. > "Oddly quiet," Jen thought as she made her way from the alley entrace to=20 >the main alter room of the Shrine. In fact, the usually bustling center of= =20 >NA activity was dead. > Except for some snoring. > Jen glanced toward the invasive noise and took note of Third Cousin Patt=20 >sprawled out on one of the brocade divans. Jen smiled and decided to let= =20 >sleeping cousins lie. She glanced at her watch and noted the time--5:45. = =20 >Just time enough for a quick shower before an early supper at the Jeweled= =20 >Peach. > She was greeted by two small cats when she entered her quarters. Both= =20 >were females, one a blue Abyssinian with amber-green eyes, the other a calico=20 >with tortoise shell and tabby markings mixed in. Jennifer smiled as she= sat=20 >on the bed and Quinivere, the Abyssinian, jumped up to join her. She'd flown=20 >into Toronto with her two cats and her luggage just the other day, then taken=20 >a cab to the vicinity of the Shrine before walking the rest of the way. > Jennifer smiled, then, thinking of how much she=E2=80=99d enjoy the= stay with=20 >her fellow Addicts, not to mention the vicinity of all the Nunkies-related= =20 >things. She reached down and absently rubbed the calico=E2=80=99s back. = Patoot=20 >immediately flopped down on her side, purring and rubbing her orange,= white,=20 >and gray head against the floor. > "Well, girls," Jennifer said, "we're here. I hope you two enjoy it." > > From - Fri Aug 13 19:22:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FLhD-0001TA-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:04:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5226; Fri, 13 Aug 99 14:02:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4374; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:02:42 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 10:58:46 -0700 Reply-To: Steve Hood Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Steve Hood Subject: WAR: Gathering Storm (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b00491ea24430ece1c4eb7dd64b3ef73 Gathering Storm by Steve Hood Time: August 13th, 1999 Place: Enforcer Headquarters (All real life names are used with permission) It's with a swiftness the wind comes, like a shadow on the water from an overhanging cloud. Steve walked on, not entirely sure what had happened, but with the knowledge that no one knew they were coming for this war. He smiled grimly, in part from weariness, in part from anticipation. The call had gone out, and they would respond. He remembered the brief conversation with his contacts in New York. "Steve. You are needed." "That tells me nothing." "We have decided that we need to step in this time. Get up to Toronto." That simple. Steve paused to stare off into the sun, removing his sunglasses. Why they were getting themselves involved with this war, he wasn't quite sure. But it would prove to be interesting. It was always interesting when Enforcers wanted to be involved. He continued on toward the meeting place, and stepped inside to remove his sunglasses and stare around the room. "Looks like you made it," Enid replied. "We were beginning to worry." Steve shook his head slightly. "Never worry," he smiled. "Do you have the supplies?" Enid grinned and held up the balloons. "Ready and waiting." "And our special ingredient?" Enid's smile deepened. "Of course." Steve went around the table to stare down at a map. "This isn't going to be easy. From what I've been told, in less than a day, everyone's going to be exploding across the city in waves." "It's already started," Kadrina noted. Steve smiled. "Okay, team. Enid, you and I are going after the intended target." He winked. "The rest can either break off into teams or fly solo if they'd like. Remember our overall goal here, and be sure to keep with supplies. If you run out, come back here and pick up some more." He flashed a dark grin. "The Enforcers have decided to become involved with this war, so let's make them proud." _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FLnv-0000WS-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:11:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5320; Fri, 13 Aug 99 14:09:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5362; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:09:41 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 11:06:33 -0700 Reply-To: Glennis Lyke Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Glennis Lyke Subject: WAR: NA: Nag, nag, nag (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4ce82d6761d9b1be66487a5878fb9fc3 Title: Nag Nag Nag By: Glennis and Patt Time: Thursday, before the outbreak of War Where: Golden Coast of California and Toronto, Canada Annie Raper used with permission. "Get up! Harummmph, you can't sleep all day!" "Clean your room. Wash your filthy clothes!" "Make that face again and it'll freeze like that!" "Straighten up the garage. It's getting disgusting!" "What do you mean, you're working overtime, AGAIN?" "Don't even THINK of asking 'What's for dinner'_I'm not cooking!" "Take the trash out!" Ya da Ya da Ya da, nag nag, nag-- Gently, in his best understanding spousal mode, Glennis' husband quietly addressed the simmering woman. "Glennis, darling wife, I think that we, ummmmm, I mean 'YOU' need a break. Why don't you take a little vacation from us?" It's amazing how fast luggage can be packed when everyone helps out! Checking her list, Glennis noted aloud, "Let's see, that's 47 credit cards , glue gun, duct tape, brushes and paints, glitter. Yep, that's the essentials!" As the airport limo drove away from her house, Glennis looked back and saw her family doing high fives and little happy dances. What THEY didn't see was the addict's huge sigh of relief. They had no idea how hard and exhausting that nagging mother/wife act was to pull off! With a smug look of satisfaction, Glennis was off to Toronto ALONE --- just like she'd planned! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Glennis was whistling as she got off the jet in Toronto. With her family's blessing that she have a solo vacation, she was looking forward to some addict R&R in her favorite second home. The California addict retrieved her two flight bags and headed for the auto rental counter. After a rather lengthy wait in line, she finally found herself face to face with the leaser. The poor man looked rather haggard, so ever- cheerful Glennis decided he could use one of her sunny smiles. The man responded with a grunt. "We're all out." Glennis' expression drooped. "Out?" "Yes," the man said, reaching for the *closed* placard. He moved to place the sign in the window, but Glen reached out a hand to stay the motion. "You can't be out of cars," Glen protested. "I need a rental to get around Toronto. Last time I had to depend on my friends for transportation, and I ended up . . . in trouble." "Sorry lady, but we have no vehicles available," the man said. "There's been a run on them all evening. Seems like some major convention has come to town and EVERYONE needed a ride." "But," Glennis protested. "Don't you have *anything*?" She pulled out her folded cache of credit cards and let it drop, exposing all forty-seven of the plastic wonders. "I can pay!" The little man behind the counter stared at the cards, then licked his lips greedily. "I don't have any rental cars," he reiterated, "but I may have some transport for you. Let me close up and I'll show you." A few moments later, the man escorted Glennis outside and stopped in front on a bright pink mo-ped. Glennis looked at the motorcycle-wanna-be with a sinking feeling. "That's it?" "Yep," the man nodded. "And it will cost you $50.00 a day. Take it or leave it." "But, it doesn't even have room to carry my luggage," Glennis whined. >From a rear compartment mounted behind the seat, the man pulled out a folded piece of plastic. Once unfolded, it made a set of saddle bags, which neatly hung over each side of the mo-ped. "There . . . now you have bags for your bags. Happy?" "No . . . but I guess it will have to do," Glen replied, handing the man her MasterCard . "I should have it back to you in a couple of days." "Take your time," the man said, slipping her card through a portable debit machine which he had produced from his backpack. "Always happy to be of help to the customer." "Yea, right." Glennis finished attaching her bags to the bike and climbed aboard. She was pleased when the small engine purred to life in one down kick. "Better stop soon and get some gas," the man called to the addict as she rode away. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After pushing the mo-ped for three blocks, Glennis reached the All-Nite- and-Half-the-Day gas and convenience store. Swearing slightly, she put the kickstand of the bike into place, reached for the gas hose and began filling the vehicle with unleaded. While engaged in this mundane chore, Glennis looked around her surroundings. She'd been to Toronto several times before, and, although she'd never been able to explore it like she wanted to, she knew she was near CERK. The little tank filled quickly. Glennis rehung the nozzle, paid the attendant, bought an impulse bag of chips and set off again for the NA Shrine. By her memory map, Peach Street should be just up here on the left . . . ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FLvG-0002Fq-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:19:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5374; Fri, 13 Aug 99 14:17:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5936; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:17:12 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:06:44 -0500 Reply-To: Ann Bridges Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Ann Bridges Subject: War: Harem: On the Road Again!? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 03d1520b66888d16c7b92b29809316f8 WAR: Harem: On the Road Again!? Amethyst, Wife #2 Harem's 2nd in command Amethyst had left Carthage, Texas almost 2 weeks ago, she & the FK Dogs had had a pretty good weekend at the Dog Agility show in Brooklyn Park, MN. She then stayed over a few days to catch up on the sleep they had missed. She headed out of town & got on I-90 heading south (after all they had to get around that pesky great lake ) After about 6 hours of driving Amethyst reached for the map and found . . . nothing so she pulled off the side of the road to look for the map. It wasn't there! Then she saw the corner sticking out from under the edge of the seat, grabbing it, she pulled. All she got was one VERY chewed corner of the map. "GREAT!! I have NO Idea what road I'm supposed to get on now!!" she exclaimed, glaring at a particular wolf hybrid that just happened to have a chewed scrap of paper hanging out of his mouth. Grey Cloud responded by waging his tail & emitting a little woof. " Well there is a gas station, I should be able to get directions to Toronto!" After 15 minutes of discussion, Amethyst crawled back in to the drivers seat with hand written directions to Toronto. "We're off! . . . again." placing the directions in the safety of the over head compartment. *At least I'll see if one of them gets it this time!* Many hours later Amethyst passed a sign that said Lima, she then realized that the gas station attendant had given her directions to Toronto . . . OHIO!!! She pulled off at St Hwy 7 in Ohio & bought herself a real map. "Great! This is going to take a bit longer than I thought!" Amethyst shook her head pouring over the road atlas," Good thing I had planned on getting there a day early!" Amethyst saw a sign for a camp site ahead so she pulled in & slept for a few hours. Thursday evening : Amethyst had been driving all day, things were relatively smooth, until she blew a tire after dark. She got it changed, slipped back behind the wheel and started off again.. "I'm so tired, but what else could go wrong!?"she mused, just then she heard the unmistakable sound of a dog getting car sick! " Grey NO!!" snatching the wheel the right, & onto the edge of the road.She barely got him out of the car. Amethyst looked at her watch it was 12:01 AM. "No wonder it's Friday the 13th." Finally Amethyst turned onto Provincial 401, "Only about 6 more miles to Toronto!!!!" It was only 3 AM !! At 5 AM she finally pulled up in front of the Harem HQ. She had never been to The HQ before, & when Grey ate the directions he had eaten the only set for how to get there, so she just drove around for a while. Finally she remembered enough to get to the hotel. "Where is that Key?!" she asked, noticing another car parked out front " must be Randora's. I really don't want to wake her up, especially if her day was anything like mine!" **********END************* ---------------------------------------------------- Amethyst and the FK Dogs Grey Cloud, Steele, Harlee and Cinder knightie@sat.net From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FMBo-00014A-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:36:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3881; Fri, 13 Aug 99 14:34:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7692; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:34:21 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:35:33 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: War: Enforcers: Feeding the Enforcer (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5a8425ebded548e3e68aac386d67bbb0 Day: August 13, 1999 Time: Around Noon Place: Enid Rodriguez's office in Enforcer Headquarters, Toronto. By: Enid Rodriguez (Enforcer, Twilight Knightie, and Harem Wife # 28) BTW, MIB =Man In Black Steve the enforcer used with permission. Enid's black eyes narrowed as she focused in on the take-out menu before her. The thought of battle made her dizzy with hunger. "I can't believe this, almost one month in this city and I can't find one joint with decent Spanish food." She complained out loud. Annoyed, Enid tossed the menu on her glass-top desk, and plopped herself down in her leather recliner. She was getting restless, she needed to get her thoughts together. She and Steve would have to leave any second ."I can't believe this, the MIB wakes me up at 4 in the morning, I drag my butt over here. And if I don't eat soon there's no telling what I do to the other factions..." But before she could go on complaining to herself Steve walked to her office. "Hey partner, you set to head out?" Enid perked up, "Hell Yeah!" She exclaimed jumping out of chair. Using her hunger and frustration to fuel her fighting fire. As they headed out Steve passed Enid a grease stained bag. "What's this?" She asked. "Hot wings, and a can of soda." Enid's mouth dropped open. "How...how.." Enid stammered, holding the bag as if it were pure gold. Steve grinned, "Your welcome." Enid grinned back, "Thanks!" Steve's grin faded. "Do you have your wig?" "Mmmmm" was all Enid could get out as she wrapped her mouth around a tiny red wing. Steve sighed, "Your wig?" "Oh...one sec.." Enid answered, grabbing a small bag from her office. "Check." "Good....uh..Enid..." "Yeah?" "May I have a bite?" "NOOOOOOOO!!!" From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FMHl-0003cs-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:42:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1601; Fri, 13 Aug 99 14:40:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8290; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:40:30 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:41:38 EDT Reply-To: Nsvestal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Clevenger Subject: WAR:NA Stuck in the Middle (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a58e0196490db92aec8a39b57656aa72 Stuck in the Middle By Sukh Round Midnight 8/13 12:15 AM ish MacCousin and Lucuis used with premission Sukh ducked into her room, MacCousin and Lucius the cat right behind her. With all the commotion of the Canadian Revenue, no one noticed the videos. They closed the door and started up the video....Some character from another TV show that looked just like Nunkies appeared. "Oh yeah," MacCousin sighed and laid back to enjoy the show. "Don't smear facepaint on my red satin coverlet." Sukh, still sporting similar blueness of portions of her face, groused. "I should've learned that this stuff takes days to wear off." "My someone woke up on the wrong side of the shrine." MacCousin watched as another character from a TV show that Sukh was drooly over walked onscreen. A chair scraped far too loudly in the hallway, driving through the addicts like nails on a chalkboard.. "I hate Canadian Revenue." Sukh cringed as she flopped on the bed next to MacCousin and grabbed a handful of popocorn. On the floor, Lucius was attacking her favorite pen. The call to arms sounded. "To the batcave...err dressing room!" MacCousin shouted as they flipped over the bowl of popcorn and rushed out of the room. Lucius trotted out of the room behind them, the offending pen carried proudly in his mouth. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cz Sukh NA, Val,Czn,UF, and many more From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FNAX-0006dB-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 15:39:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5957; Fri, 13 Aug 99 15:37:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3929; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 15:37:03 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 13:05:32 +0000 Reply-To: xina@LIGHTSPEED.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Anderson Subject: War: GSS: Flight of the Papercaper (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 61e5329fd2d843d73ad377c42aa149b9 Flight of the Papercaper (1/1) by Kimberly Anderson Time: 11:30 a.m. Day: Friday, August 13, 1999 Place: Pearson Airport in Toronto Participants: Tami -GSS Muse, Joseph -GSS Striker Kim -GSS Ace Agent Muse turned the yoke slightly, adjusted her flight path as new coordinates were radioed from the control tower. She had been circling the lear jet for the past 30 minutes and was getting tired of waiting to land. "My butt is starting to go numb" She thought, and squirmed to get a better positioning in the black padded pilot's seat. "Tower." she called over the radio, "How much longer before We're scheduled to land?" The radio crackled back, "Four minutes from now we'll be able to give you a runway." "Thank you." She replied, and leaned back streaching her back a bit and brushing stray blond hair back from her forehead, which instantly bounced back into place. Tami heard footsteps coming from the rear of the plane, and a Sprite in a plastic 12oz bottle was thrust in to her vision, from behind the seat. "Thanks Joe!" She said, taking the opened container with one hand while steering with the other. She took a long thirsty swig from the bottle then set it aside in a cup holder attached to the arm rest of the pilot's seat. "Don't mention it," Joseph replied "Hey, its my turn to fly on the way back. Don't forget that." He said, sitting down and securing himself in the copilot seat. "You flew the plane from New York to Florida to pick ME up." Tami replied trying to argue more flying hours for herself. Joe considered, "So how about I fly it back to New York.... and you take the bus home?" The short dark haired man asked. "I don't think so." Tami replied frowning. "Ok, what if we take another vacation at the end of the war then?" Joe said, "We can decide later on where." "That might be a plan." Tami considered, "We could fly Kim back to California..... if we could get her in the plane." Joseph chuckled darkly and began to reply but was interrupted by the control tower radio. {Static} Lear Jet 347J5. You are now cleared to land on runway nine. Please begin your descent now.{Static} "Roger, Pearson Tower." Joseph replied into his headset as Tami started working through the Lear Jet's landing proceedure. {3 minutes later} The Jetblack Lear with silver stripes down it's flanks taxied slowly toward a hanger where it was to berth. Lacroix kept a few spaces in the hangars rented for his Cousin pilots and also for ... other purposes. Tami parked the Lear in a spot near the hangar doors and the two Agents went through the shut down proceedures, then exited the plane and headed for the Airport loading and unloading curb to hail a taxi. {Booring ride not described :-) } They paid the fare for the ride to CERK radio station and stepped quickly out of the red cab. "Its been quite a while." Joseph murmured. Staring up at the multistoried building. "Let's see how the old HQ is holding up!" Tami remarked cheerfully and stepped briskly up to and through the door. The two agents entered the CERK loby and breathed in deeply. "War." Joseph said letting the breath out as he chuckled to himself. Both agents aproached the front desk and waited behind a few other Cousins until it was their turn to sign in. Joseph signed a large John Hancock and then Tami marked a small X below it in the leather bound tome looking up at Isabella the Cousins' receptionist and grinning cheshirishly as the receptionist looked at it and rolled her eyes at their wiseacre, and un-original *for this bunch*, prank. Tami and Joe looked at each other and shruged, then headed eagerly for an elevator flanked by potted palms. Inside, they pressed the "basement" button seven times, keying the lift to descend to the SUB-basement. Their short ride ended as the elevator doors slid open on darkness. Well not quite darkness, but the harsh light of the elevator made the sub-basement gloom LOOK like darkness. The two stepped forward, and the doors slid shut behind them. They stood for a minute or two adjusting to the gloomy light provided by the few ornate electric light fixtures {rather torchlike in design} spaced widely apart along the walls of the several corridors leading away into the dungeon labrynth. {Reference wars 8 & 9 for why there is a dungeon here} Joe and Tami chose a corridor by memory and made their way through the cobweb strewn maze of wooden-celldoor lined stone corridors, heading toward the center of the labrynth. Occasionally a pink glow was seen out of the corner of one of the Agents eyes, but when they turned to look it had disappeared, sometimes leaving the scrabbling sound of tiny claws, in its wake around the corner of some other corridor. They finaly encountered a hallway with stone steps leading down to the side and descended them as confidently as they had navigated the maze. At the bottom Tami placed her hand against a faintly blue glowing rectangular object set in the wall beside a nondescript looking cell door. The only other unusual object was a bust of The General set on a marble pedestal to the left of the door. The rectangle glowed brighter for a second as its scanner read her palm print identifying her as Agent Muse of the General's Secret Service. The door promptly slid aside into the wall, {which looks odd because it appears to be an open out door like the rest. ;-) } Tami and Joseph entered and passed through the short darkened foyer into a large meeting room that was dimly lighted, and the door slid shut behind them once again. A large round table dominated the room whose walls were off white and the floor carpeted in deep dark blue pile. Tapestrys of unusual design were situated along the walls with some pictures hung in between, some of them photos and some paintings. A large fireplace yawned at the side of the room, to the right. As yet unlit. Kim sat at the table a few seats away from the largest ornate chair and yawned as well. She wore a tee shirt and sweats. No shoes. Her long dark hair was still mussed from having gotten up out of bed recently. She squinted her grey eyes, still sleepy, not from any glare of light. Kim held a glass of orange juice between her hands and a donut sat un-eaten on the table before her. "Hey! How have you strangers been?" She said, "Wow, you guys made it in record time." Kim yawned again. "Hay, Kim!" Joseph called striding forward, "Still keeping late hours I see." He plopped down in a chair next to hers. "Hi Kim!" Tami also chiruped walking up, "Oh, its been the same old, same old. That's why we got here so quick." "I can relate to that." Kim replied sipping her orange juice, "Oh, by the way. The GSS is going to be a bit thin this year. All we have right now is me, you two, one new recruit coming in from the west coast, and Bob. Who probably won't be very much involved because he's a Cousin Leader again." "We can make do with that." Joe replied and Tami nodded in agreement, "A smaller force is easier to manuver.. and hide its operations." "Yesss." Kim answered suddenly withdrawing mentaly in devious contemplative thought. Tami laughed and turned away to head for her room, down one of the two hallways leading from the main meeting hall, to change out into her GSS uniform. "Heard anything about what its about this time?" Joe asked as he turned back from watching Tami leave. "Hmmm, I don't know." she considered, "I've been a bit reclusive lately, but I did get a few interesting e-mails in the past day or so. Nothing from the General or Bob yet." Kim shook her head. "They just alerted me about the war at 5am this morning." "Maybe it'll be just another prank fest like last year." Joe concluded. "I can live with that." He grinned evilly. -fin ----GSS Ace xina@lightspeed.net o==|---GSS-------- From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FNML-0003La-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 15:51:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6058; Fri, 13 Aug 99 15:47:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5463; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 15:47:55 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 15:49:37 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: War: DP: Arrival at the Mansion To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d8b92155d9484ad619a5763ca0610e78 Martin drives into the driveway of the gothic looking mansion and smiles. "Finally here." Getting lost, again, didn't help keep him awake and by the time he got there, he was exhausted. Yawning deeping, Martin drags out his duffel bag and walks on into the mansion, stepping on a careless demon that walked in his path. The new Thug didn't notice in his exhustion and the demon apparently liked it. Martin stumbles into the kitchen, blindly following the smell of fresh coffee. Reaching out eagerly, he pours a large mug of cappicinno and slumps down at the table. "Long day." Martin could hear the person, but really couldn't focus on her except for maybe black or dark blue hair. "It was. First I get woke up six in the mornin' after a late night by a call about a detective asking about me. Turns out it is Tracy who called, and its a War. So I hop into my truck and drive here directly. I couldn't even find a decent cup of coffee until now." Martin looks thankfully at the drink. "Thank goodness I was already on my way here." "Why?" Martin concentates on that question as if his life depends on it. "I was near Buffalo when an old friend ran into me and asked me to do a favor. Deliver a sword to someone in Toronto. Out of the goodness of my heart, and up front cash, I said yes." "So who are you supposed to deliver the sword to." "I'm supposed to meet the person at the Starbucks near here eventually. So, how was your trip here?" Martin starts to listen in eagerly as the caffinated drink starts to kick in. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FNV4-0007mH-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 16:00:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6112; Fri, 13 Aug 99 15:56:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6289; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 15:56:02 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 15:02:10 -0500 Reply-To: Bob Sellers Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bob Sellers Subject: WAR: GSS: A Rude Awakening Part (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3ac43c69997fe6864fdf7d01d218c76b WAR: GSS: A Rude Awakening Part (01/01) Time: Friday the 13th, 9:15 am Location: GSS HQ, Jennifer's Room By: Jennifer Okerlund (a.k.a. Agent Ice & Cousin MidKnight) Beta reading by Amy Reed (a.k.a. Randora) Agent Ice slept peacefully in her four poster bed inside the GSS Headquarters. She had been in Toronto since the last War. Somehow she never quite made it home. It started out with the sight seeing and then led to going to the University of Toronto. Here it was, more than a year later and she was still here. She rolled over in her sleep murmuring quietly. Ice was having a wonderful dream involving vampires when all of a sudden she was awakened quite abruptly with a banging at the door. With a grumble Ice sat up blinking, and trying to adjust her eyes to the dim light in the room coming under the door from the hall. She heard the wheel in Spike's cage squeaking as the pink rat ran inside of it. She got out of bed grabbing her robe and slipping it on over her lavender silk pajamas as she made her way to the door. Squinting as she opened the door to the hall she made out the form of Bob. She pushed a few strands of auburn out of her eyes with one hand as she held the door with the other. "What is it at such an unearthly hour of the morning? I just went to bed two hours ago," she said with a definite tone of annoyance. "Sorry to wake you so early Mid, but Tok asked me to summon the GSS for a meeting A.S.A.P. The General has ordered all the cousins to meet in Toronto, which can only mean one thing... War." Ice was wide-awake when she heard this. "War? I'll be right there," she said, already closing the door. She threw on some clothes and got ready in a flash. Ice was on her way up to the Cousin's Headquarters within 10 minutes. End Of Post From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FP0q-00054l-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:37:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2828; Fri, 13 Aug 99 17:30:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6411; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:30:18 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:59:31 +0000 Reply-To: xina@LIGHTSPEED.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Anderson Subject: War: GSS: Invisible GSSer {Comedy plot save} To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 66dd4dc9cd24e0c194bfc31662fc8d34 Title: The Invisible GSSer {Comedy plot save} Time: Friday 13, 12:30pm Location: GSS HQ By: Kim, Tami, Joe Showerd, shaved and suited up. The GSS Agents Ace, Striker, and Muse ambled back down the GSS barracks hallway toward the HQ's front exit intent on checking out the goings on in the upper levels of CERK radio station. Glancing aside, Tami spotted one of the doors to the rooms standing slightly ajar. "That's odd. Isn't this Ice's room?" she asked the other two. "Looks like it has been lived in." She commented curiously opening the door a little wider. "Oh, yeah. I forgot," Kim replied smacking her palm to her head, "Ice is here too. She's been living here with me all year long. We keep missing each other, when one of us is here, the other one isn't or is asleep. We usualy keep different hours, but its still kind of wierd. We barely see each other so sometimes I forget she's here. I think she probably does the same. I don't know where she went, But she probably knows the war has started, by now, if she left through the CERK entrance... Let's leave her a note that says where we went." Kim pulled out a note pad and scribbled a message, then went in and set the paper on Ice's pillow, came back and shut the door. "Well, lets go see what is going on, and when the meeting will be." Joe said, and the trio left to go up and hang out in the CERK loby. ----GSS Ace From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FPEV-0005lK-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:51:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5151; Fri, 13 Aug 99 17:33:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6656; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:33:06 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:34:53 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR:Nothers: Yet a Nother one? X-cc: elladara3@hotmail.com To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a00b7e5315e346edadde0f9a2d27e35f "Yet a Nother one?" written by: Elladar Mistborn, aka Heather Varley Disclaimers: Heather used by permission, cuz she's the author of this post! Mrs. Connors is fictional, we don't need her permission. Time: Late Afternoon, Friday, Aug. 13th, 1999 Heather cautiously drove up the road to the newly-renovated Chateau des Autres, hoping she was going to the right place. She hated being in the wrong places, it was always so embarrassing, but she'd followed the directions to the best of her abilities. After entering the gate and being waved on by a very friendly gatekeeper, she'd have to find out his name later, she parked the car in the lot and grabbed her bags and headed for the front entryway, only to be stopped at the front door by a woman who could only be described as motherly. "Young lady, why are you carrying your own bags? Has that nephew of mine run off again?" She asked, very purposefully taking the bags from Heather. "Uh, I didn't see anyone else out there. This *is* the Chateau des Autres, right?" "Oh, of course, Mrs. Varley. I've been expecting you." Nothing could have taken Heather by more surprise. "You've been expecting *me*?" "Of course. I run this place in Mr. Cross's abscence. It's my business to know when the Nothers are coming into town and who they are. Now, I'll help you up to your room and we'll get you settled." "Please, ma'am," Heather stammered,wondering who Mr. Cross was. "I didn't catch your name." "I'm Mrs. Elena Connors, the housekeeper. I read that book of yours. Very interesting stories." Heather stammered some sort of an answer, surprised to no end that the little anthology she had published had gotten this far. Sure, she'd come equipped with a couple dozen copies in case of intrest, but this was unexpected. She walked in something of a daze until they reached her room, which even had her name taped on the door. Would wonders never cease? Of course the first thing she did was pull the wooden cross her husband had made and hung it from the inside front door handle, a move that merited a strange look from Mrs. Connors. "I see you came expecting trouble." "Not expecting, just taking precautions. My husband wouldn't let me leave his sight without it, especially not to this place." The housekeeper nodded. "I better run, others are coming in and with the grand opening everything is going crazy around here. If you need anything call me or corner the maid. She should be around here somewhere." Heather nodded and slowly closed the door after the older woman had left. This was going to be an interesting couple of weeks. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FPRI-0003sB-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:04:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6967; Fri, 13 Aug 99 18:02:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8925; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:02:34 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:08:22 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: INDEPENDENT/CGW: A Glow Worm in the Night... To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6a275d6b7d88c82a75521a873c74a220 It had to happen some time. Last May, Pen and MacHeather made Lora and me an offer we had to refuse... to run the Fiendish Glow on a continuing basis. We both had lives, we told them -- lives which, despite the machinations of the Faer Hibernian Foundation, could not be picked up and relocated to Toronto at the drop of a hat. So Pen moved as much of her business as could be, north of the US border, MacHeather started spending more time at the Glow and the Shrine. Since the "Glow"'s contract requires at least two Glow Worms to open and to close, one or another of us would have to head up any time either Pen or Heather had to be out of town for some reason or another. Usually, that "someone" was either Lora or me. The "Glow" had turned out to be mildly successful, with the result that we could write our flights off as legitimate business operating expenses. All of the Glow Worms had expected to be on call during late August, when MacHeather would be taking a month-long retreat from her duties to finally wed her "daerlin Chris o' th' bonniest knaes e'er tae hae war'n a breacan faile(1)". I'd even managed to clear a few days' telecommuting to keep up with the ever-burgeoning pile of tasks at the day job and convince the other half that he really *didn't* need me to help him clear his apartment of everything *he* had to go through and triage in order to pass New Jersey State inspection(2). However, I hadn't expected the call message to come through this quickly -- or for it to be delivered with FLASH priority, in person, by a Faer Hibernian Foundation chauffeur waiting to drive me to LaGuardia's Marine Air Terminal and the Foundation's private Beechcraft. The sealed envelope the gloved chauffeur placed in my hands contained a single word. War. -------- (1)breacan faile: "great kilt". The older style of kilt, formed by centering and pleating twelve yards of body-width fabric over a belt, laying down upon it, and buckling the belt around the waist. The part of the fabric that lies above the waist can either hang down over the belt, or one corner can be brought over the shoulder much like the current *plaid*, or can be brought over one's upper body to serve as a coat or a rain-break. IMO, it looks best on Big, Beautiful Men... (2)The State of New Jersey requires the inspection of apartments in buildings with four or more residence units. My other half and I are both packrats, and there's a lot of stuff we've got to truck out of his place in order for it to pass inspection... Brenda F. Bell IRC nick: T`Mana bfbell@dorsai.org webwarren@earthlink.net From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FPgF-0005vD-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:20:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7026; Fri, 13 Aug 99 18:17:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9773; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:17:54 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 15:19:43 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: War: Admin: Administravia and late slips To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b6d0e4aadc15374226ddb3e5ee55313f Hello, Several late slips have been sent in and accepted. The permissions page should be back up by the middle of the week at the latest and after that time, all slips should have been turned in. Slips that are discovered to have been missed will be accepted once the page is back up as participants will have to have submitted a slip to participate. If you have any questions please send a note OFF LIST to fkwarlocks@egroups.com or fkwar10leaders@egroups.com Visit the web page for current faction listings and contact information as needed. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FPs9-0004yh-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:32:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7084; Fri, 13 Aug 99 18:30:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0575; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:30:18 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 15:38:25 -0700 Reply-To: Lorna Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lorna Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: The Journey to Toronto 8/12/99 part 1 of ? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 83a9f25d87a99a8d6f248fb3d8d7e4a6 I was sitting in my chair quietly finishing the handwork on my newest creation when I was startled by a knock on the door. Looking over to see who ws there I immediately recognized Kimberly even though I had never met her in person she looked so much like her description of herself and the pictures I had seen. "Kimberly, it's good to see you. Come on in. What are you doing here and how did you find the place?" "Girlfriend, this is not that big a town and you did describe the place rather well and it looks just like the picture you put up when you moved in. You do have some pretty nice roses. I came to pick you up to go to Toronto for the War." "I wasn't planning on participating. Don't know how much help I would be in a war." I replied indicating the silver walker sitting by my chair. "Heck, that's no big deal we will work something out." "But I wouldn't be home for my birthday since they moved the war to the last part of August." "What better place to spend your birthday than in Toronto at the Raven. Janette throws a hell of a party." "Well, if you're sure." At Kimberly's nod I continue. "We will have to take Rambling Rosie." "Who or what is Rambling Rosie?" "Come on I will show you." I slowly get up from my chair and using the walker I lead the way through the kitchen out onto the deck. "That is Rambling Rosie." I point to a dark green van parked in the back yard. Where some vehicles have flames or other things painted on the side of the vehicle this van has roses of every color imaginable. "I also have a camping trailer if you think we might have use for it." Kimberly looked over the late-model, mint condition "camping trailer" Lorna pointed out. Yes, this would do very well. "That is sure a way to travel in style. Heck why not." "Well. I have to pack and leave a note for my mom and then we can go." Packing goes relatively rapidly and we are shortly all loaded and ready to leave. I was about to write the note to my mother when she arrives home. "Lorna, who is our guest and what is going on?" "Mom this is Kimberly, Kimberly, this is my mom." After the two greet each other I continue. "I am going to Toronto for the FK faction War." "Have you packed all your medications and do you have enough of all of them?" "I called the doc and told him I was going on a trip and needed a refill of those I was low on so I would not run out while I was away and he called them in. I will stop at the drugstore to pick them up before we leave town." "Ok, here's the phone card, keep in touch and let me know you are OK." She hands me the calling card and gives me a hug. "Bye mom, I will call when I can." Kimberly helped Lorna with both their bags, and Rambling Rosie was quickly loaded. Kimberly was well-pleased that she had connected with Lorna in "real life" finally. They had been friends via the internet for some time now. Lorna's use of a walker only helped her get around town easier. Lorna had certainly not let her health problems get in the way of her fashion sense, Kimberly noticed happily. Her fingernails were painted a very Ravenette purple, much the same shade as Kimberly's, and impeccably manicured. The weather was cool enough here that Lorna was able to wear a low-scooped, short-sleeved black crushed velvet top and black broomstick skirt. Kimberly was in purple crushed velvet herself, a short-sleeved number accenting her waist and falling mid-length. Both Ravenettes were in heels when they left the house, but quickly changed to chic little sandals for the road trip ahead. Lorna's camping trailer would certainly come in handy, for although Kimberly hadn't mentioned it yet, they had a few more Ravenettes to stop and pick up! After they changed into more travel-friendly sandals, Lorna put the van in gear, and Kimberly slid comfortably into the shotgun seat and pulled an atlas out of her purple satchel. They were off on their journey to Toronto and Janette......... After the brief stop at the drug store to pick up the required supplies along with an explanation to the pharmacist who was a High School classmate the two are on their way out of town. Before leaving the parking place Kimmer decides it is time to tell Lorna the rest of the news. "We are also doing the opening night party at the Raven." "That sounds like a blast. I had planned to take a detour to avoid road construction so we can make a stop and pick up some stuff from a friend of mine on the way." Instead of heading for the main interstate highway out of town Lorna instead turns onto one of the winding state roads and heads to as friends house where she is greeted by a large overly friendly St. Bernard. After assuring Kimmer that the dog is not dangerous and doing the same with the dog the two go into the house where Lorna says a few words to her friend who directs her to several bags that are in the stairway by the front door. These bags are quickly loaded into the van and the two are once more on their way. Over an hour later as they approach the largest city in the area the two quit talking about possible pranks theyu could play in the war and start paying closer attention to the road. Kimmer navigates while Lorna negotiates her way amongst the crazy drivers nat paying much attention to anything but the surrounding traffic. She is stunned when Kimmer directs her to turn off at the airport exit. "Why are we going to the airport?" "I guess I neglected to mention that we were going to pick up a few fellow travellers on the way huh?" Laughing Lorna just smiles as she realizes surprises like this are one of the things she likes best about Kimmer. "Well then the airport it is." From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FQ4F-0000Uk-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:44:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7129; Fri, 13 Aug 99 18:42:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1217; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:42:43 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:34:29 CDT Reply-To: Julia L Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia L Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: The Sweet Smell of War (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2b99e85f3b29338d5d96491ff4f93480 Title: The Sweet Smell of War Date: 8/13/99 Time: 5:30pm By: JuliaL War was on the air. It stank. No, wait. Something was on the air, but it definitely wasn't war. With a groan, Julia pulled a pillow over her head, only to find that it did nothing to stop the reek of motor oil and grass being cut and, at the same time, cut off most of her supply of oxygen. With a sudden burst of inspiration, she rolled over and stuffed the pillow into the window. No more of that ghastly sunlight. No more obnoxious smell. Most of the noise was blocked too. Sleep. Need sleep... Stupid people shouldn't be mowing lawn at... well, whatever time it was. Something stirred in her sleep-deprived mind. Was time was it? "Oh..." The clock was somewhere, she was certain of it. Unfortunately, over the summer, it had gotten buried under the assorted debris that tended to congregate in her bedroom. Some magazines went flying across the room to land in an open dresser drawer. A pair of underwear landed on the cat that was lounging contentedly on top of her CD player. The siamese opened one eye and glared at the offending undergarment, then went back to sleep. "Time, time, time..." She couldn't believe she had lost her own clock. She hadn't remembered moving it any signifigant distance since she'd gotten it, three years ago. Then she remembered something else-- the VCR had a clock too, and she, unlike many, had it programmed, working, and completely clear of any assorted articles of clothing or products formerly property of the printing industy. 3:13, PM. Thirty-two minutes to get to the train station. She had been given the message late last night, or, more precisely, early that morning. It came across the internet. The Ravenettes needed her. She should have been up and awake hours ago. Then again, on any normal day, she would have slept another two hours. At least everything was prepared, waiting. The clothes and CDs were packed, the laptop was in its carrying case, the tickets were, amazingly, still in plain sight. It took her only seven minutes to be dressed and ready to go. All black, of course. The rest of her family was bound to come snooping into her private little sanctuary sonner or later. Probably sooner. They'd probably start as soon as she left, even when they thought she was off to do a little innocent college visiting. Thinking back, she'd been surprised at how easily they'd accepted it. Of course, the papers she'd printed up had definitely helped. There was one last thing to do before she could leave, and Julia grinned as she stuck the simple, black and white banner across her door. None of them could read it, and hopefully they'd think it was some sort of boils and blinding torment curse. Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch'entrate. It was about time for some fun. ------------------------------ JuliaL (silver_faerie@hotmail.com) f o r e v e r . d e c e m b e r http://nocturne.simplenet.com/ ------------------------------ Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch'entrate. = Abandon hope, all ye who enter here. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 19:23:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FQN0-0007eB-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:04:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5567; Fri, 13 Aug 99 19:02:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2548; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:02:05 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:06:54 -0600 Reply-To: Kimberly Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: "Party Plans!" Date: 08/13/99 Time: 2:00 p.m. Part 1 of ? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7ce0a179b8940c2ea0290e40c543c77a Kimberly, Lorna and Claudia were working very hard in the kitchen at the Raven. Tonight was the opening night party at the Raven, and they wanted it to be just perfect. Many other factions would be attending, and they wanted to make sure that all their guests' needs were fulfilled. Janette was a fabulous enter- tainer, and it was vital that her faction did her proud. Although Janette had hired a small army of caterers, the Ravenettes were proud of their own culinary skills and gourmet tastes, and were overseeing everything to make sure it was up to Janette's exacting standards. The caterers were getting into the spirit of things, as well, getting caught up in the excitement of the opening night party. Excusing herself from her other Ravenettes, Kimberly walked out of the kitchen and into the main bar area with a very big, happy smile on her face. Janette was on her cell phone, and Alma was behind the bar with Miklos, inspecting bottles of wine very carefully as they put them away. Janette put her cell phone down, call completed, and raised an inquiring eyebrow at Kimberly. "Janette, I have just come from the kitchen," Kimberly was talking excitedly. "The food preparation is coming along exquisitely. Kat and Time will be picking up the floral arrangements at 5:00 p.m. The ice sculpture is set to arrive promptly at 7:00 p.m. Kathy and Caroline are taking care of all the music arrangements and will have the sound checks completed before the guests start arriving. Lydia, Julia and Chanda expect to have all the decorations completed before Kat and Time arrive with the floral arrangements. They will have places cleared off for them, so there is no confusion." Kimberly finally breathed, and continued. "Alexander, Teresa and Leeann are all working on electrical things, security, communications, computers and all the other electronics around here at the Raven. We just want to make sure everything is in good working order--" Kimberly's smile faded. Janette was not happy. Janette took Kimberly's arm and said crisply, "Come with me, my errant liaison. I wish to show you something." Feeling the blood turn to ice in her veins, Kimberly swallowed hard and allowed Janette to lead her like a limp ragdoll over to the broad- casting booth. Kimberly knew it would be dusty, it had been a while since the Ravenettes had used the booth. She was not prepared for what she saw, however. It wasn't dusty at all. The booth was slimed. It smelled rather nice though, what was that smell? Kimberly realized it was honey. Flashing on the last war, she knew what it was and where it had come from. "Janette, I, er, um, okay, I-I can fix it! Really, it will be okay! I just need to call Les over at the UF faction. They obviously left a few honey bears here after the last war--" "Obviously, yes." Janette said most dryly. "It will be perfect before the party, honest!" at the sight of Kimberly's dogged determination to please her, Janette relented a little. "All right, then, you call this Les person and make sure she takes care of it. Right away!" Janette, turning quickly on her heel, headed back to speak with Miklos about the inventory of the bar. Kimberly made a beeline for the cell phone. END PART 1 From - Fri Aug 13 19:38:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FQt1-0002l6-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:37:23 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7396; Fri, 13 Aug 99 19:35:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4802; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:35:14 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:26:37 EDT Reply-To: Ipecac69@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stan Williams Subject: War: GSS: R&R means Rest and Relaxation? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: eb2c8c7db34ac8e5f2c556e1a435b150 Day: August 13, 1999 Time: Just before noon Place: A taxi in an alley not far from CERK. By: Stan Williams, Talon Talon grumbled to himself. More like Reeking and Rancid, as far as R&R went, he thought. A bath was definitely in order. The tapping on his cab's windshield brought the disheveled Talon back to the world of the living (and others, of course.) The person on the outside of the cab ceased his tapping. Maybe it was the sight of the cabbie, dressed to the nines in the latest homeless chic. Maybe it was the sight of the semiautomatic that Talon invariably slept with. Regardless, the stranger was gone by the time Talon achieved the almost upright position. "What a night,,,," (Insert flashback music here.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Micro DAT Journal, Agent Talon, Thursday, August 12th, er..11:56 PM. Having 'eagerly volunteered' to the whim of the General, I find myself behind the wheel of a white Ford Crown Victoria cab.... "I guess black was unavailable... "Anyhow. My mission: recon. Pick up fares of a certain nature. I will be receiving special calls from the taxi dispatch (thanks to a certain payoff for which I had better be reimbursed!). Well, here goes. I hope I get to drive some interesting people. I never can fathom the plots unfolding behind the eyes of the General. I guess that is why HE is......crap, I forgot the tape was still on! " ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "12:04. First call. They want me to take some gasoline out to a stranded motorist some 200+ miles outside of the city! Never mind the inconvenience, but wouldn't the motorist be suspicious of the long delay? Sorry, I'll have to pass on this one." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "2:30. Okay, I have had two calls to pick up young ladies who were in no way suspicious. They were lovely, each one. I delivered them to the Raven as ordered, though the ladies did not seem too happy about that. That's when I slip into an Arabic accent and pretend not to be able to speak French or English. I guess the ladies were HIS type. Only the red cross knows for sure." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "4:30. Hey. My last fare was a vampire. I have seen him around. Why did he want a ride in a cab? Curious." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "5:45. Now that was interesting. A woman in a black leather trenchcoat and wearing a pair of sunglasses (Raybans, I think). Sunglasses at night? Well this is Toronto. She was a great tipper, by the way. Anyhow, HE will likely want to hear about her...Her destination is not one with which I was familiar. "Ah well. I am HIS hands, not HIS brain (as if.)" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Insert flash-forward music here). The cell phone' siren song kicked Talon out of his silent reverie. He grunted acceptance to the voice at the other end of the signal. Reaching over to the apparently factory installed am/fm, Talon clicked a button, and... "Micro DAT Journal, uh, Friday, August 13th, uh, let's just say noon. I have a call to the airport. Talon out." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "12:45. She wanted to be taken to the Jeweled Peach. Wait a minute!! That and the woman in the black trenchcoat...this can mean only one thing!" Talon scrambled for his GSS issue pager. Finding it lying in the floorboard of the back seat, volume set to off, vibrate set to off, Talon cursed himself. Of course there were several messages pending....Most of them from ***** (identity protected). Talon swallowed thickly, and fired up his Ford. From - Fri Aug 13 19:48:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FQyZ-00032N-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:43:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5757; Fri, 13 Aug 99 19:40:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5106; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:41:00 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 16:42:45 PDT Reply-To: "Jade M." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jade M." Subject: WAR: GSS: Arrival of the Late & Great Silver To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1e691f34e353656f39f29b68c0413e3b Time: 7pm-ish EST Location: Pearson International Airport, Toronto Written By: Jade, Agent Silver <> Jade thought to herself as she forced a smile and began undoing the numerous seatbelts. <> "Thanks so much Tim! I'm glad I can count on you for a last-minute flight!" "No prob, toots," Tim replied, taxiing down the runway to the private pilot's terminal. "Always glad to help. So, mind telling me why I just flew from Vancouver to Toronto?" "Nope," Jade smiled. Even she wasn't sure exactly why she was here. Agent Ace, a.k.a. Kim, had demanded, albeit sorrta-politely, through e-mail, that she come to Toronto for a meeting of the GSS. Happy to oblige her superior, Jade had booked the next two weeks off work and gone to the tiny airport by the Comox Base, home to the 19th Wing Squadron. Stowing herself in the baggage compartment of one of the huge commercial planes had been easy. Trying to explain *why* exactly she was there was not. After several rounds of interrogation - and a check of e-mail to see another note from Kim asking where the *hell* she was - Jade's friend Tim had spotted her, gotten her out of trouble and offered her a ride - free of charge - to Toronto. "So, when you going back?" Tim asked as he cut the engines and took off his headset. "About two weeks. Give or take a day," Jade told him, opening her door and getting out to stretch her much-cramped legs. She accepted the duffle bag Tim handed her and the two companions headed towards the terminal. * * * Jade settled into the taxi as it pulled away from the curb in front of Pearson Internation Airport. Thinking for a minute, she grinned as she remembered the box of Fig Newtons she had shoved into her duffel on the way out of the house. <> she thought to herself, munching quietly. <> Suddenly roused out of her revery, she did a double take out the window. It couldn't be! Could it? <> Just then, the cabby pulled up in front of the CERK station. Jade looked up in awe. <> was the only thought that came to mind as she opened the door and stepped out. After paying the driver, who sped away more quickly than she had expected, part of her mind noted, she mounted the steps and opened the door. The first thing she noticed was a reception desk with a cheerful looking Cousin sitting behind it. Remembering Kim's directions, she went up, smiled at the girl and signed her name, Jadelyn Ashekevron, with a flourish. "That's an odd name," the girl, Isabella, said, turning the book around to look at it. "Is it French?" "Nope. Pure Canadian, I'm afraid. Now, if you would point me to the elevator, please?" Jade replied, smiling sweetly and trying not to get irratated. <> she reminded herself. "That way," Isabella pointed towards a door flanked by two potted plants. Jade smiled her thanks and walked through the elevator door. <> The doors closed and the elevator moved downwards. Jade hummed quietly to herself for a few seconds before she finally came to a stop and the doors slide open. She stepped out, only to be greated by near-total darkness and a musty scent, much like a dungeon. <> And with that thought, she looked around, waiting for her eyes to adjust, humming "Uninvited" by Alanis Moresette. <> she relized suddenly. Several tunnels lead off from where she stood, each one lit by the soft glow of electrical light fixtures shaped like torches. <> She chose a corridor at random, and, after about a half hour of twisting and turning, found herself quite lost and a little afraid. Every once in awhile, the sounds of scrabbling feet could be heard and once, she swore she heard heavy breathing. Her heart pounding, she stopped under the light of one of the ornate lamps. <> Resigning herself to her fate, she looked around once more before turning to her last option. "Help!" she called down the echoing corridor. "Ace? Muse? Striker? Anyone? I'm lost!" ---------- GSS Agent Silver (Jade) ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Fri Aug 13 20:08:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FRLy-0000Vt-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:07:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3583; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:04:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7171; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:04:27 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:06:15 PDT Reply-To: Beverly Turner Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Beverly Turner Subject: WAR: FOD: Lost in TO To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 67d5df0ce84826e59f8be2d067a1f840 FoD War Lost in TO by Beverly Turner Spiff, Ron, Lori Rav, Cindy and Kathy use by permission. Time, Friday 13th(late afternoonish) Spiff was dusting like a woman possessed. She felt she had to make up the time she d lost picking Bev up from the airport. Bev pitched in, of course, if only half-heartedly. Where she came from dusting was a waste of time, and energy. It would only show up again the moment that you put the rag down. Anyway the cobwebs lent the place a creepy lived in feeling. Sure the tables needed to be cleaned, and that grill was ready for some heavy duty sanding to remove the rust. It was just all too much for two people to do. The phone rang. I ll get it, Bev yelled. She ran to the phone, and picked up the receiver before Spiff could say a word. Happy Souvlaki Deli, she sang cheerfully. Bev? It s Kathy. We re here down by the ferries. Can you have Spiff pick us up? Sure, we could use the help. She s got me on cobweb duty. You know those spiders worked hard on Just ask her, okay? We ll be there in a few, Kathy. Don t worry, Bev said, then rang off. Was that Kathy? Spiff asked. Sure, they want you to pick them up by the ferries. I just started on the oven, and I m a mess. You want me to go? Bev asked cautiously. Why not? I m sure you drive better than you dust, Spiff said as she handed Bev the keys. I might get lost, Bev said. Spiff sighed, and began to draw out a map on a napkin. She marked out a clear course that anyone could follow. ***** Bev slid into the set of the van, pushed the keys into the ignition, and brought out the tape. Normally she d listen to some Rock and Roll, but since she d been given the honors of helping with Deli opening she d brought only her Everybody Polka set. She started the van, and glanced at the map that Spiff had quickly drawn out on the back of the napkin. It looked more like the trail of a worm than a street map. The names of the streets had run together since all Spiff had found to write with was a blue marker. Oh well, anything to get out of taking down the cob webs, Bev sighed as she started the car, and drove away listening to the happy beat of the polka music. She drove through the city pausing only for a red light or two. Occasionally streets would call to her, beckoning her to follow them. That is exactly how she got lost. Take Adelaide to Jarvis it s faster, she d heard Tracy say. No wait, she wasn t a Perk. Was that a Souvlaki stand we just passed? she d heard in Schanke s voice. That was better! She didn t mind hearing Schanke s voice, but she did mind the fact that she d turned down the street to find that Souvlaki stand that wasn t there. Those voices just wouldn t leave her alone...two more turns to find the right street again, or was it the right street. There's a hotdog stand over there. You know you're hungry, Schanke's voice added. Would you like your own little steering wheel? She asked him. There was no response. I ll just mask the voices out, she said, then turned the music up louder. She let out a small FoDish giggle as she drove the van toward the lake. Kathy hadn t been too specific on where they had actually surfaced. A week in the cold water had muddled her brain a bit. Bev was glad she d decided to fly into the Airport directly instead of diving again, even if she did have a fear of planes. She had nothing against the diving itself, just all that heavy swimming. When it came to exercise she was more of a land animal. Then there was the fact that the lake was cold, no matter what time of year it was Bev stopped at a red light, and glanced at the stranger standing on the sidewalk. She was waving frantically, and mouthing the word fod . Bev nodded, and unlocked the passenger s side door. Ron, I assume, she said when Ron opened the door. I was about to hail a taxi when I heard the music, and just knew this had to be the FoD van. Where is everyone else? I m on my way to get them, but I can t follow Spiff s directions, Bev replied just when the light turned green. Ron closed the door, and pointed to the left. Turn there, and head straight for the water. How hard can that be? Bev smiled to herself. Ron didn t hear the voices that sent her down the back streets of Toronto. Maybe now she could get to the FoDs before the fish turned rancid. They made it to the dock in only ten minutes with Ron s help, and the fact that she was driving like Schanke with the brake lines cut. Bev parked as close to the weary crew as she could without actually running them over. What took so long? Rav asked, her words punctuated with a sigh. I took the scenic route, Bev replied with a shrug. She got lost, Ron interpreted. How? You just aim for the water, Cindy added with a slight shiver. Her fur lined dry suit must not have done her much good. It s Spiff s fault! You should have seen the map she drew for me, Bev said as she tucked said map into her jeans pocket. No need anyone seeing it and decifering it for her. If it weren t for Ron Speaking of Spiff, shouldn t we get moving? She ll need a lot of help to get the deli ready for the crowds, Ron said. Everyone nodded, and began loading their gear in the back of the van. Bev, Lori, and Ron hefted the bags of fish into the tubs of ice water that Bev and Spiff had spent an hour filling. Um, Kath, Bev began as she shifted from one foot to the other. Yeah? Kathy replied. Wanna drive? Sure, why not? Kathy said with a shrug. She knew full well that Bev just didn t want to admit to being lost. Bev climbed into the back of the van next to the fish, and grinned mischievously. Kathy glanced in the mirror, and saw Bev s grin. Don t touch the fish! she warned her fellow FoD. Who me? Bev said innocently. Kathy turned the key to start the van. When the engine roared to life, so did the polka music. Everyone turned to look at Bev who was reaching for a fish that had fallen from the bag. She shrugged. I saw the two CD set on TV, and just had to have it! I figured it was the best thing to make any FoD bounce like a Like Rav. Kathy glanced in the mirror in time to see Rav bouncing in time to the 'Pennsylvania polka'. Beverly Turner cousinmoon@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 20:13:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FRPF-0003ym-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:10:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7575; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:06:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7344; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:06:15 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:06:28 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Renovation Reflections To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b93d4ec13bc9a40e746c5935d06e6abd NA: Renovation Reflections By Patt Elmore Time: Early evening, Saturday, August 13, 1999 After: A Taxing Situation 1&2 Where: NA Shrine ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Patt was standing by the altar, vacantly staring at the parchment. Weird how familiar it looked, just like in her dreams. The Third Cousin reached out and absently began unrolling the document further, her examination becoming more intense as she noted more and more detail. Patt nodded as she surveyed the proposed plan for the second floor enlargement of certain bedrooms and the elimination of others, making room for the installation of a Sacred Upper Meditation and Study Room. Patt looked more closely at the five bedchambers left on the second floor--four were marked *NunkMommy,* *Scribe,* *NA Poet Laureate* and *Nunkies Scoutmistress.* The fifth chamber, marked *High Priestess* had an anteroom with the inscription *private billiards room.* The mature addict continued to unroll the scroll, instinctively knowing that a third floor addition was called for. Yep, just like in her dreams, there were plans for a third floor of modestly-sized but elegant sleeping chambers for the additional addicts in residence. There was even a small wing marked *Gentlemen.* The upper floors were accessible by stairs at each end of the hallway and an elevator located in the middle of the building. Patt's grin began to widen. As the parchment continued to unroll, Patt examined the proposed rooftop courtyard and wall-based, covered walkway which encircled the building top. At strategic spots along the walkway, turrets were to be built. Patt thought triumphantly. Then, she saw it. Patt's eyes misted and she sniffed slightly with emotion. LaCroix had read her dreams and remembered, reminding her once again about why she remained an addict. There, on the north side of the rooftop was the design for a tower. Patt eagerly scanned back to the start of the document, noting the renovations for the first floor. Yep . . . there was the huge stone medieval fireplace to be built along the north wall of the main altar room, perpendicular to the entry to the Jeweled Peach. Patt couldn't suppress a grin as she saw the squiggly line etched across the floor of the Shrine, running across the length of the bottom floor. Patt thought with merriment And now, the dream was the basis for reality. Nunkies had given his blessing and access to his coffers for completion of Patt's summer fantasy. With a robust feeling of triumph, Patt began re-rolling the building sketches. It was only about then that certain facts of her conversation with LaCroix began to permeate Patt's brain. Vampiric or non-vampiric, the thought of Community construction workers made Patt shudder. As if the unspoken thought triggered an effect, Patt felt a slight movement behind her. "You Elmore?" Patt turned slowly and faced the new arrival. He was tall and lean--very much the image of a feral being. His thick, shoulder-length hair was the deep red color of an Irish Setter and his eyes were coal black. Despite her best efforts at covering up, Patt felt her knees go gelatinous and her heart rate begin to speed up. The being waited patiently, allowing the addict time to recover. When Patt didn't respond within fifteen seconds, he asked again. "Elmore?" The Third Cousin managed to nod this time. "I'm Kriel . . . was told you'd be expecting me. I've been contracted to do this job--*Shrine* renovation,*" he looked down and read from a work order, then returned his gaze to Patt. "I've got my crew and supplies ready to go, so we can begin immediately. You do understand that we'll be working after dark." "Why so?" Patt found her voice. "LaCroix said you weren't vampires anymore." "And, he also told you that was a *temporary* condition, right? This thing came on all of us rather sudden, no warning at all. Imagine how nasty it would be if we were all standing out in the sunshine and reverted back." Patt swallowed hard and nodded. Kriel nodded back and reached out his hand toward the addict. Instinctively, Patt jumped back, her eyes searching for stray beverage bottles. When she finally looked back at the ex-vampire, Kriel offered her a weary expression and said, "Can I have the plans, please?" The addict's face began to redden as she extended the scroll toward Kriel. Then, Nunkies' words came back to her. Patt was in charge. Patt had been chosen because she knew how to deal with vampires (or ex-vampires or may-come-back-to- unlife-at-any-moment vampires) without being intimidated. Patt's little chicken act would give Kriel the impression that he could walk all over her and do what he pleased, which in turn would displease LaCroix. This gave Patt a very bad feeling. As Kriel's fingertips touched the parchment, Patt quickly snatched it back and held it to her chest. "Wait just a minute, Mr. Kriel. How do I know Nun . . . LaCroix sent you?" "Why, by the powers of hell, would I be here otherwise?" Kriel countered. "This ain't exactly the Raven, ya know." Patt sniffed in disdain. "Do you have any credentials? Any references?" Kriel raised an eyebrow and stared at the woman. "Are you kidding?" Patt shook her head. "This is my home," she replied, "and, as such, I have every right to know that I'm entrusting the repairs and renovations to a reliable, bonded and competent contractor. Are you registered with the Better Business Bureau or the Canadian equivalent?" Kriel offered the addict an annoyed glance then reached into his pocket and whipped out a business card. Embossed on the black card were the initials *V.I.P.* in gold-glittered ruby lettering. Patt looked at the card, then back at Kriel. "Am I supposed to be impressed? V.I.P.?" "*Vampires in Perpetuity,*" Kriel said, returning the card to his pocket. He gave the addict a knowing stare. "When we build them, they stand *Forever.*" "Catchy," Patt nodded thoughtfully. "But, as you are ex- vampires, that doesn hold much weight with me. Could even be considered false advertising. And, it still doesn't prove to me that you're reliable." Kriel's expression was going from annoyance to disgust. "Ever heard of the Sistine Chapel? The Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris?" The ex-vampire held up pale, calloused hands. "I supervised work details on both of those projects." "Well, I'm impressed," Patt replied sardonically. "I'd have been much more reassured, though, if you'd said that you helped build the pyramids. Now there was a piece of craftsmanship." "Designed for the dead," Kriel pointed out. "You'd better be glad that I have experience with more modern concepts--like bathrooms." "I see your point," Patt said, rubbing her forehead. She was growing weary of this banter and, if Nunkies had been satisfied enough with Kriel's work record to hire him, who was she to continue arguing? "Okay, you win, Krio-man. When can you get started?" "Yea, time can be a factor for you guys, can't it?" the ex-vampire said, giving Patt a wicked half-grin. "Fact is, I have my primary crew waiting outside, ready to start work tonight." "Tonight?!!!" Patt yelped. "Sure thing, no problem." Kriel looked at the work order again. "Looks like the boss wants some minor repairs done first, before the major construction begins. Hmmmmm . . . pond scraping . . ." Kriel looked up, his narrow eyes on Patt. "What the heck is a Screed?" ******************************* End patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 13 20:18:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FRVp-0004Eq-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:17:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5948; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:12:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8055; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:12:25 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:06:50 -0500 Reply-To: Jill Kirby Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jill Kirby Subject: WAR: NatPack: War? Whaddaya Mean, War? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: aef837f3d3eb54c4179cde997e8b08fe War? Whaddaya Mean, war? or, This Gets Almost Everyone To Toronto By most of the NatPack Pennsylvania Very very early in the morning of Friday the 13th (or very very late at night on the 12th, take your pick) Phones ringing in the middle of the night were rarely good news. Publisher's Clearing House, for example, generally didn't call you at 3 a.m. to award you that ten million dollar prize. So when the phone did ring, Debra Ann didn't exactly rush to answer it. She just kind of yanked the phone under the blanket with her. "Hrmm?" There was silence on Debra Ann's end of the line as she listened (mostly) to the person on the other end. "Who? Oh, " More silence, broken only by Debra Ann attempting to find her way out from under the covers. "You're kidding, right? You're not kidding?" One foot poked out from under the sheets, vainly trying to find the floor. "Yeah. Yeah. I'll call everyone." One hand hit speed dial #6 (the NatPack may be prone to getting lost in large cities and have a distressing tendency to bounce, but at least they're technologically organized). "Jill? Guess what..." >From the Chicago area, a loud anguished scream of "Oh, BUGGER me!" was heard. Whether the scream was from Jill, Tina or Jennie (or all three, at one time or another) will just have to be left to the imagination. *** The call beckoning her to Toronto couldn't have come at a better time for Debra Ann. No matter what was going on up there, it had to be better than what was going on where she was. Even if she received news that all the vamps in Toronto had turned into green jello, it would have been better news than having to stay one more minute in her present, stressful location. Debra Ann contemplated the request for her to go north for an entire three seconds before walking out the door of her office, slamming it loudly behind her, and heading home to pack. "Thank you, God, for inventing airplanes," Debra Ann said to herself as she boarded the flight that would take her from Northeastern Pennsylvania to Pittsburgh, and then to Toronto. Within four hours, she was at Lester B. Pierson Airport being grilled by the woman in customs. It was a perfect culmination to a perfect day. After an half-hour of explaining what a War was, why she was here for one, and how it did not involve any kind of illegal explosives (well, not normally), she finally persuaded the customs official to please - please - please let her into the country, and she exhaustedly headed up to the taxi line, where she heard her name being called. "Debra Ann?" Debra Ann turned and saw Kim waving frantically. "Kim! I can't believe you flew in from Ottawa!" The two NatPackers hugged each other furiously, somehow managing to bounce at the same time. Kim shrugged, "I'm working as a travel agent. I arranged my travel." Then came the inevitable negotiating with the cabby. "We need to go to Natalie Lambert's apartment. I don't know the address. It's in the Apartment Building of the Damned. Do you know where that is? Oh, good!" -- and finally, Debra Ann and Kim made it to NatPack HQ. *** Jennie pulled up in the rental van, and Tina and Jill (neither one exactly awake) threw their bags in the general direction of the back and climbed in. "It's eeeeeeearrrrrrlyyyyy," whined Jill. Tina ignored her and claimed the back bench seat for her own. Jennie was getting ready to pull out when a small car swerved in front of them and cut them off. Jennie screeched to a stop with several non-PG-13 words. A dark-haired woman climbed out of the car, smiling. "Are you the NatPack?" "Allegedly," muttered Tina, rearranging herself on the seat she'd been unceremoniously dumped off of by the sudden stop. "I'm Janet Dornhoff," said the woman, grinning more hugely. "Nat called and said I might be able to catch a ride with you if I drove really, really fast from Champaign." "It's the Forever Vet!" screeched Jennie and Jill in unison, puppy-piling Janet. After all, there aren't many people left in the Wars any more who've been around as long as these three (and no cracks about old-timers, here). Tina, who already knew Janet, threw the blanket over her head and hoped for sleep. As Janet put her bags in the back of the getting-very-full-very-quickly van, a blonde man with glasses got out of a taxi. "At this hour of the morning, this must be the NatPack... I'm James. Can I catch a ride too?" "We'd love it!" chorused the women, introducing themselves to the newer NatPacker, who just happened to be in town for job interviews (OK, it's a plot device, but it's a REALITY BASED plot device). "Caffeine?" James asked plaintively as he climbed into the van, making sure to hook up his seat belt (wise man). "Leaded or unleaded?" chirped Jennie, displaying a full cooler of soda. James immediately felt at home. *** 11 AM Anderson Residence Calgary, Alberta, Canada *Riiiiinnnnngggg!* *Riiiiinnnnngggg!* "Hello, Anderson residence, how may I direct your call?" *pause* "Meg, it's for you." "Do you *have* to answer the phone like that?" "Yes." *sigh* "Hello?" Somehow, within five hours, Meg had managed to (a) arrange a flight (which included some impressive begging on her part to her father) (b) convince her mother to let her go, even though her mother still didn't believe Nat existed ("Yeah Meg, and Forever Knight's a documentary, not science *fiction*.") and wasn't pleased with the fact that her teenage daughter was running off to Toronto alone, to hang out with a bunch of people she'd never met. The flight was easier to obtain than the permission. All she had to do now was pack.... *** The rental van made it to Ann Arbor in (terrifyingly) record time. Betsy and Maureen barreled out to greet the people they knew, and there was much enthusiasm at getting to meet the people they didn't. "Wow," said Betsy with just a touch of awe in her voice. "We have a playing in this War. With the NatPack. Wow." James looked pained. "Isn't it cool?" grinned Tina. "We should get a display case for him or something," Jennie put in mischievously. Maureen noticed how uncomfortable James looked, and changed the topic. "Anyone else coming?" Jill ticked off the missing people on her fingers. "Valerie is flying in separately, so is Judy, and Sharon made some comment on how she'd get to Toronto on her own and contact us when it was safe." Janet looked puzzled. "Safe?" Jennie shrugged. "She's defending her dissertation next week. We're not expecting much she says to make sense until that's done." *** Melissa cheerfully waved good-bye to the departing black Camaro as it sped away from Memphis International Airport. Luckily her friend Lisa was available to take her to the airport so she wouldn't have to park the Eclipse for the duration of the extended stay in Toronto. It probably wouldn't be there when she got back. Checking to make sure she had everything, she went inside and headed for the terminal that Robyn's flight would be coming into. It was, as to be expected, going to be late, giving them all of 20 minutes to get to the plane bound for Toronto. The flight was also late, because somehow the gods of airline travel *knew* Robyn had to get to Toronto, and had decided that since her last trip was a snap, this time she'd have to suffer. Never mind that they had been messing with her all week, from her vacation mishaps to her book buying trips. Somehow, someway, she had pissed off the wrong deities, and now she would pay the price. Plus, she was NatPack, and they are notorious for being walking representatives of Murphy's Laws. When the passengers started to unload, Melissa started frantically waving her small Canadian flag, which was rescued from its demeaning position on a Barney video display, when she saw a short redhead enter the terminal. After the quick introductions were made, the twosome quickly migrated across the terminals to make the next flight They counted no fewer then 150 Elvis wannabes, and/or those who thought they actually were Elvis along the short distance. Robyn looked slightly taken aback by this, so her fellow NatPacker explained. "The end of Dead Elvis Week," Melissa told Robyn with a shrug. "They're all going back to their regular lives as accountants or bus drivers." "Ah," Robyn responded. "How ... disturbing. And here I thought they had found a way to clone him from beyond the grave. Either way, they're giving me the wiggins." Once on the plane, they attempted to have a conversation on outstanding "X-files" episodes over the noise of the close to 2 dozen impersonators serenading the crew and passengers with Elvis' greatest hits. Luckily the impersonators, along with everyone else, survived the flight and stepped safely on to Toronto soil. The first stop for Melissa and Robyn was the car rental agency. Neither of them liked the thought of having to rely on public transportation. And, being NatPackers, they would no doubt need wheels in the near future. They investigated the parking lot until the perfect car for the trip was found. And, this being wartime, they found it. The perfect car was obvious by the light shining down from the heavens upon it and the "Hallelujah Chorus" filling the air. There it was. A lime green Volkswagen Beetlebug. Old style. "Oh yeah." Melissa said. "Perfect," Robyn echoed. "We'll take it," they told (in unison, no less!) the annoying rental car guy. As they were about to climb into the car, they saw a slender woman walking up to the agent at the lot, asking him a question. She looked very... lively. "That woman," declared Melissa, "is far too bouncy to be real." "She's gotta be NatPack," replied Robyn. "You go ask her. I'll get this gorgeous automobile loaded up." Melissa approached the woman and discovered that yes, it was Linda Rose, who looked slightly manic (not that manic was unusual for any member of the Pack, mind you). "Are you all right?" asked Melissa, almost afraid to hear the answer. "Oh, yes!" replied Linda Rose brightly. "I've survived work, two kids, seven birthday parties in two weeks, car repairs, and a upcoming family reunion in Ohio. I'm really looking forward to active participation in this War!" Melissa took a deep breath, grabbed Linda Rose by the hand, and led her to the car. Why do I have the feeling that Linda Rose is going to pass out in a corner of Nat's apartment? thought Melissa... *** Lady Angst sighed and shifted in her seat and adjusted her oval shaped glasses. The under 5 feet, black haired, northern Californian teenager was on her way to New York to visit relatives. In other words, she was on her way to 2 weeks of living with near total strangers she'd never seen. The plane's speaker system crackled, and a man's voice announced, "Attention, passengers. Due to a minor problem, our flight to New York has been canceled. We will be landing in Toronto, Canada in half an hour. This is just a minor stop over do to difficulties in the er,er, ah... (stage whisper) Help me out here!" She could here another person frantically whispering. "We will get to New York with very little hassle. Er, in the meanwhile, here are the stewardesses handing out packets of pretzels! Heh, heh." Lady Angst grinned maniacally. Yes, Toronto, home of Nat Lambert, Nick Knight, the Raven... This trip was really shaping up! *** Well, it was early Friday morning when Lynn left Fredericton, thankful for the good weather for the time being as everything was packed tightly into the convertible. It was nice having parents with 'toys', this particular one being a 1974 British Triumph TR-6 in a British Racing Green colour. At least it wasn't the colour of Nick's Caddy. It was a 14 hr drive, with a portable stereo in the passenger seat, crankin' out Sarah McLachlan's "Mirrorball" CD at almost mind boggling decibels. Since Lynn was now the sole Fredericton NatPacker left, there was only her to drive. The fun part was driving through Montreal - something Dawn and she had done previously - only this time she didn't get off at the wrong exit. *** Friday the 13th Late afternoon The van, the Beetle, the Triumph, and an assortment of taxi cabs arrived at the Apartment Building of the Damned at the same time (wow! Amazing!). And everyone found street parking. Street parking in which truly indicates that something really, really weird is going on... (to be continued) Jill Kirby ** kirby@enteract.com New homepage location: http://jillkirby.webjump.com 'Oh the horror! Oh, the humanity! Oh, the ANGST!' "What's an angst?" 'Oh, it's like a cross but with a little loopy bit on top...' --JB From - Fri Aug 13 20:58:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FRim-0004jz-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:30:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7645; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:20:06 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8771; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:20:06 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:21:37 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: She's A Doll (01/04) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5a38ca32d630058c1a07f057131ad2a1 NA: She's A Doll (1/4) by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: HP Jules, Shele, and KC Time: Friday, August 13th, nighttime Location: Madame Kiki's House of Naughtiness No Buff Slave Boys were harmed in the making of this fanfic. Most of the Addicts were hiding out at Madame Kiki's House of Naughtiness. Who could blame them? The Shrine was overflowing with those dreadful chartered accountants moving into their newly-established Revenue Canada office. High Priestess Jules was crankier than the engine of a Ford Model T, dishing out weeks of grout duty for so much as a wayward sneeze. Anyone with good sense , i.e. everyone but Third Cousin Patt, could recognize that the best course was to find an alternate locale to lay low, preferably with Buff Slave Boys at your beck and whim, until circumstances lightened up or your credit ran out. Shele was one of those wily souls taking advantage of Nunkies Anonymous' friendship with Madame Kiki. She was plopped on one of the House's padded tables, submitting to a - what? Her fifth of the day? - shiatsu massage from her favorite fictional-being-in-black-leather: Ted. It had taken an hour, but she had just about worked up the energy necessary to roll over and order Ted to feed her some chocolate. As hungry as she was for some messy fingers and Godiva, Shele would have merrily skipped the snack, forgoing looking up for another month or so, had she known who would be fuming with disapproval in the doorway. Cousin Jules: hair neatly coifed, suit crisply tailored, neatly manicured nails tapping in a forbidding tattoo against her forearms, glared accusingly at the supine Addict. "A-ha! I found you!" Jules declared in triumph. A flare lit her eyes. Somewhere in the distance, one could hear the crack of a whip and a choir of cats hissing. Shele hugged Ted's muscular forearm possessively to her chest for inspiration, then said brashly. "No, you didn't. You're having a hallucination. I'm not here, I'm not wallowing in decadence, and I'm absolutely, positively, not a threat to Ted's virtue." The problem with this diversionary tactic was that Jules knew any hallucinations she had would preferably involve her having fun with Nunkies, not someone else enjoying the services of a highly-skilled Buff Slave Boy. "Clever," Jules said crisply. Shele preened. Shele *was* very clever. "But not clever enough," Jules continued. "The game is up! On your feet!" Shele hopped off the massage table. Being an all around helpful guy, Ted assisted by holding her modesty towel in place. Of course, the magic wasn't in the fact he held it in place, it was *where* he held it in place. Gotta love a guy who's good with his hands. "Trouble? Should I call Madame Kiki?" Shele stiffened. "No - that wouldn't be a goo-" "KIKI!" Ted bellowed. "UN-Happy! Room Four!" Madame Kiki slinked into the room. She had slinking down to a profession. Her carefully made up eyes widened with delight at the sight of the High Priestess. They hugged, then kissed the air by each other's cheeks (facial). "Jules! It's been too long! How's my old cell mate?" Madame Kiki was referring to their common unfortunate incarceration two years earlier in Metro Police lockup, Madame Kiki on a job-related matter, Jules, for a high speed chase which ended with one of Bonnie's non-sensible shoes endangering the paint job of one 1962 Caddy. Jail time makes for strange friendships, as many a Nunkies Addict can attest. "What seems to be the trouble?" Kiki inquired curiously. Jules crossed her arms again and sent Shele a severely chastising look. "It seems that some of the Addicts have been taking advantage of your services on account." Kiki's mouth pursed in a moue of confusion. "I don't understand. You know NA's credit is always welcome here." "Ah, but that's what I mean by 'taking advantage.' I don't supposed Shele mentioned that our finances have been frozen and we're being audited by Revenue Canada? About the only thing we can pay you in right now is lint." "Those cursed Mercs!" Shele muttered under her breath, then began to tickle Ted's belly button in the hopes of finding currency for more shiatsu. "Oh. Well, that *is* unfortunate," Kiki agreed. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll cut them all off until further notice." "Grumblegrumblegrumble," Shele grumbled. Jules gestured for her to follow. "Let go of your Buff Slave Boy and come along, Shele. I've had a stressful message from Patt. It sounds as though there may be a War brewing, and Nunkies needs our support." "War?" Ted echoed with interest. "I like war." He moved to follow Shele, but Kiki splayed a staying hand across his broad chest. "If you want to play, do it on your own time," Kiki tsked. Jules practically dragged Shele to the changing rooms. "We have so many things to do. Problems have already erupted! Hurry! Hurry!" "Grumblegrumblegrumble," Shele grumbled. *********************************************************************** Addicts were un-coseyed, dumped and dressed with unprecedented speed. Jules surveyed the amassed bodies, frowning as she discovered one glaring exception. "Where's KC?" "She's probably in her cheesey-spaceship set," Shele volunteered. Several other Addicts sent her accusing looks for ratting out the Kissing Cousin. "Hey! If we don't get *our* fantasies, why should she get hers?" There were murmurs of agreement. Shele raised a fist in the air. Vive la revolution! "YEAH!!!!!" Jules looked surprised and quite pleased as her troops marched away in formation. "Oh my. They *are* getting good at this thing called War." ************************************************************************ Shele may have referred to it as a cheesey-spaceship set, but for the past week, it had become a temple! Sure, there was plenty of evidence of cheesey-spaceship things, like the doors opened with a *swoosh-it!* sound. There were zappy whatchamacallits, lots of blinking lights, and a kiddie pool filled with primordial goo. To make the image even more complete, there was a pair of aliens, Scrotor and Nesbit, gaping with awe at KC's munificence. Well, it was either her munificence or her taste in red jumpsuits. The aliens had made a grave tactical error during the last war, abducting KC to take her to their home planet and perform experiments on her person. In no time at all, KC had them convinced she was the mighty Rhubarbarella, Goddess of Pez and Rollerskates. Now they were her obsequious toadies, bent at the waist, profoundly kowtowing. Extending the worshipful atmosphere, transforming the not-so humble cheesey spaceship set into a tabernacle worthy of a gal who would be world dictator, there was a flock of Buff Slave Boys collected before KC, intoning, "We're not worthy! We're not worthy!" Though extremely pleasant to the ego, KC was beginning to get a headache from these noisy prayers in her honor. She was busy helping her favorite Buff Slave Boy, Kevin, practice his sleepy-eyed looks. You could tell he was her favorite because 1) he was allowed to stand in her presence, and 2) he was wearing a nifty matching red jumpsuit emblazoned with 'Property of Snixco' on the back. "I AM KC!" she yelled above the muscled throng, a fist raised in the air. "WORSHIP ME!..." Now she had their attention, she moved her fist toward her mouth, extending her index finger, then whispered, "...*quietly.*" All the Buff Slave Boys dropped prostrate before her and began to very, very silently bow and scrape. "Wow," Kevin said, not quite managing the proper amount of sleepy-eyeness, but achieving a twitchy squint instead, "I have trouble getting these guys to lend me a buck for the vending machines." KC, unfortunately, didn't get a chance to bask in his approval. Shele and her fellow legion of indignant Addicts marched onto the bridge of the cheesey spaceship set. They bodily picked her up, then marched, KC aloft, right back out of the room again, chanting, "War! War! War!" as they went. Kevin waved as she disappeared from sight, calling, "I'll wait for you!" *********************************************************************** End of Part One From - Fri Aug 13 20:58:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FRk1-0004mm-01; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:32:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6023; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:28:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9518; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:28:02 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:19:50 PDT Reply-To: Shele McCaa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shele McCaa Subject: WAR: NA: Have Drill, Will Travel To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 620949e37e4370703dab18c118c16147 NA: Have Drill, Will Travel Written by: Niteflyer Time (EST) and date: Friday, dusk Place: The Road from GA to TO Permission to use granted by: HP Jules ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ben and Jacob Martin, beloved nephews used with their exclusive permission. Egrus Toga bot merely and occasionally gets lucky enough to quote words written by the great William Shakespeare. **************************************************************************** Darkness came quickly for brave and mysterious drill mistress Niteflyer of the proud and noble Nunkies Anonymous. It was dusk in Toronto and Nite's drive from Georgia had been an adventure. Nite had never run into so many irritating diversions while trying to proceed to a rendezvous. First, there was the gang of half-dressed tattooed nomads hitching somewhere near the Bronx, a particularly foul and very wrong turn Nite had taken. They had ooooed and ahhhed over her candy apple red '58 Plymoth that her eldest Nephew, Jake, had loaned her. The car was affectionately known as Jezabelle, the scrappier of two such cars Jake owned: smoking, dripping oil, but possessing a demonic-sounding radio. As if the nomads were not enough, Nite had swerved to miss hitting a crazed cow with a long tongue running from some begging blond guy in a long black coat. They had both raced across a field and into the Plymoth's path in quite a hurry. From Ben, Nite's younger but very genius Nephew, she had received a small friend, a robot built from a blender with only three limited functions named Egrus Toga. He only stood two feet high, spouted off occasional good Shakespeare, mixed a mean cocktail and repaired Nite's prized drill. The drive was worth the effort, as going to battle was a serious matter, and so was even the slightest chance of viewing an in-repose toga worn by certain subjects with ice blue eyes. Ahhh ambrosia! Nite stopped at an all-night gas station and finally caught sight of the wonderous CN tower! Quickly she grabbed some oil for Jezzy and a soda and hurried back to her smog filled car only to catch one of Toga's better Shakespeare recitals. "Like feeble (burp) age he reeleth from the day, the eyes fore duteous now converted are. Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still......Toga whee! Toga whee! Zip it!" The trouble being that Toga never got the sonnets in proper order, always mixing up the lines. He was fair company however and for that Nite was grateful. What a wonderful thought this particular sonnet placed upon Nite's drooling mind muahahahahahahh! Such clever irony and beauty! Nite had taught Toga the verse to perhaps one day impress an army, a soldier, or even perhaps a General! Enough of this useless banter! Nite was a drill mistress on a mission to an elegant shrine. There was drill business at hand and busts to be drooled upon. Jezzy and Egrus were primed and ready. Nite cruised out of the parking lot with visions of war and adventure, yet careful not to draw attention from any of Toronto's finest. Her goal was not to be reached, however, for out of a large building, labeled 'Madame Kiki's House of Naughtiness' swarmed a mass of women in togas, lifting a reluctant, protesting passenger wearing a red jumpsuit above their heads. Women in togas! Nite slammed her foot on Jezzy's brakes to avoid running the legion down. Surely these were her comrades in drool, her fellow Nunkies Addicts! She parked the smoking beast by the curb and grabbed Toga and her drill, unsure just which new-found, toga-clad friend to greet first. Soon, the crowd parted, and an auburn-haired woman in a sleekly tailored suit stepped free. A cellular phone glued to her ear, she looked less than happy, but very much in charge. "I don't care how you do it, just do it!" with a snap, the woman ended the call. Holding dear her small buddy to her chest, Nite cleared her throat and introduced herself. "Hello? I'm Nite, and this is Egrus Toga. Are you the High Priestess? I'm new to Toronto and Nunkies Anonymous, and I'm confused. Why are you all here, not at the Shrine?" "Because some of the Addicts don't like doing dirty work," the woman replied in a forbidding tone. "You aren't one of those types, are you, Nite?" "I want to serve Nunkies!" Nite promised, then lifted her sacred tool, "and I'll drill!" "Excellent. I am the High Priestess...Jules. Since you're so enthusiatic, I have a job to send you on. First thing: what's that 'Egrus' thing you introduced?" Jules asked, pointing to Nite's small friend. "He's a bot, a gift from my nephew. He doesn't do much except quote Shakespeare, clean my drill, and mix cocktails." "Cocktails?" Jules' brows lifted in thirsty interest. "I could use a cocktail. Two or three, even. It's been that kind of day." She proprietarially lifted the bot from Nite's arms amidsts a flurry of whirrs and bleeps of protest. "I'll just take care of him while you're gone. You're drill, too. You won't need that where you're going. I'll keep them safe and sound until you return to the Shrine." "Okay." Nite didn't feel so positive about letting either go. "Where am I going? I don't have to go alone, do I?" "Of course not." The High Priestess waved a hand, now filled with Nite's drill. "Shele! KC! Arymede! Jan! Monica! Charl! Come here!" The Addicts came, though most didn't appear very enthusiastic. "I want you to sneak into CERK," the High Priestess announced. "Find the supply closet. In the supply closet, you will find a box labeled 'T. GoB.' Bring it to me. And, whatever you do..." The High Priestess' eyes flared with such fearful warning, Nite stepped back. "...DON'T OPEN THE BOX." A trip to CERK! The radio station of the Nightcrawler! What bliss! Nite slowly followed her new compatriots, heading into her very first war, her first mission, not knowing what strange and dark adventures lie ahead. Hail Nunkies! Indeed! **************************************************************************** Fini niteflyer@alltel.net arrival to Shrine of Nunkies for War10 _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 20:58:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FRwA-0003NK-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:44:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7714; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:31:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9838; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:31:14 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:32:01 -0700 Reply-To: Arymede Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arymede Subject: WAR: NA: A Relaxing Vacation... To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6fc6ff7cd43d76a80376fa482a4dcd92 NA: A Relaxing Vacation... by Ary Reid Time: Early morning to mid-afternoon, Friday, Aug 13, before She's A Doll part 1. Place: Most of southern Ontario Permission was granted by Christy to use her. Ary approached the peach of her eye, the one who had just rescued her from a herd of stampeding typewriters, the one and only General Nunkies. She was not the least put off by his dress: an unidentified army beret, a lime green toga, a feather boa, and red and white striped knee socks. He opened his mouth to speak, and she leaned in intently. "We regret to inform you that landing in Toronto is impossible at this time, due to this airline's incompetence. We will be landing momentarily in a barley field outside of Kingston. Or is it bearded wheat? Please fasten your seatbelts. Yes, I'm sure it's wheat." *** Ary snapped out of her dream, blinking furiously. Suddenly, she realized she must have looked like a certain long-haired vamp, and stopped. She growled at no one in particular, frightening the three year old who had been kicking her all the way from Calgary. "Some relaxing vacation this is." She looked at her watch. Just past midnight. "Figures. Friday the 13th." She was herded off the plane with the other sheep. Stood around waiting with them for three hours before a bus arrived to take them into Kingston. Followed them to the baggage claim. Growled with them (again scaring the evil little three year old) when they were told that their baggage was safe and sound, waiting for them in Mogadishu. She wandered along some road she didn't know the name of for another three hours, before finally hitching a ride with a trucker named Dennis. Two hours later, she climbed out of the truck in the middle of nowhere, just past the Quebec border, having discovered that the truck was going the wrong way. *** At around 2:30 pm, EST, Ary climbed out of the back end of a cattle truck in the parking lot of a truckstop in Toronto. She was cold, tired, smelled like cattle dung, had no change of clothing, no money, and no patience. She muttered a halfhearted thanks at Jean the Quebecois Cattle Farmer, and started walking. *** Finally, an hour later, she arrived at the Jeweled Peach. Sighing a sigh of relief, she went into the Shrine, intent only on getting a shower, a bed, and a relaxing vacation. She walked in on total chaos. Addicts were running around, unidentified men were running around, and everyone was shouting. She approached a young Addict she vaguely recognized who was working in the Lab. "Christy, right?" At the Addict's nod, she smiled. "I remember you from Summer Doldrums. What the *%^&$$# is going on here?" "Didn't you know? It's a War!" "Great. Just my luck to be caught in a War. What happened to start it?" Christy went to explain, but Ary held up her hand. "No, nevermind, I don't want to know. I'm tired, I'm smelly, and there's no way I'm going to get any rest around here. How do I get to that place I've heard of... Madame Kiki's?" Fifteen minutes, one Sacred Cold Shower and a surrepticiously snitched toga later, Ary was on her way. _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com From - Fri Aug 13 20:58:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FRwB-0003NK-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:44:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7720; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:33:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9977; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:33:11 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:34:52 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: WAR: NA: An Addict, a Bus, and a Boyband (02/03) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d8a0fa546ddd41fb2e2c9b3029aab288 NA:"An Addict, a Bus, and a Boyband" (02/03) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time: Friday, August 13 -- daytime Place: a tour bus enroute to Toronto, hotel in the Skydome ************************* 5:00am The girls slowly marched onto the bus one by one, like ants. 5:00am was entirely too early to be up for eleven and twelve-year olds. Tiff, on the other hand was not tired. Spending 3 months earlier that year waking up at the crack of 3:30 in the morning, did her good as far as disciplining her sleeping habits went. Now Tiff knew that she wouldn't be able to just walk onto this bus and grab a ride to Toronto. She needed a disguise and a good one. Being nineteen, but looking eternally sixteen wasn't enough. She had to appear to be one of those 12 year-old girls that look twenty, like on Sally-Jesse Rapheal or something. Tiff took a good look at herself in the miniature round mirror she carried with her. "By the gods, I look ridiculous." she breathed out. Her make-up was most excessive, especially the eyeliner and lipstick. 'This could work. This could actually work. No person over the age of 15 would never, in there right mind, want to look like this,' She thought. As she made her way into the bus, the man from earlier stopped her. "Hang on," he said. "Do I know you?" "Uh, yes, I'm... uh..." "You're Larry Clayton's daughter, aren't you?" "YES! Yes, I am Larry Clayton's daughter... daddy didn't tell you I was coming? Wow. I thought he did," Tiff said, lying. "No, he didn't. Wow you're getting so big." Tiff tried to tried to fake a modesty smile. "Well, get on the bus, we don't want to be late to see the band." This was fantastic! Tiff did it. She really did it. She disguised herself to be a twelve year old girl and now she had a free ride to Toronto! "Hoohah!" She exclaimed getting on the bus. ***** 10:00am Everyone was now well out of their dosing state and wide awake. "I can't believe we're actually going to go see them!" One girl, behind Tiff, exclaimed. "I know... aren't Chip and Trevor the hottest," another girl commented. "Chad is soooo dreamy!" A third girl exclaimed. A dark feeling fell onto Cousin Tiff as she suddenly realized that she was on a bus with twenty boy-crazy teenyboppers, on her way to see 98 Degrees of Five Backstreet Syncs. "Oh, God, what have I done?" she mumbled to herself. ***** 1:00pm The chatter about the Temperate Toenotes (a mocking term used to describe this particular boyband) continued for some time. It was driving Tiff insane. She hadn't seen anything as bad as this since her friends were all sucked into the whole Fresh Youths on the Cube phenomenon ten years previous. She wasn't sure of how much more she could take of this. They were still three hours from the Canadian border and four hours from Toronto. She would have to do something to make them shut up about those Temperate Toenotes. Tiff began looking through her ever-present camo-colored book bag, hoping for a solution to her current dilemma. Then she found it. A bottle of Trance Powder. Trance Powder is something she accidentally invented during her college Chemistry Lab during her first--last semester. She wasn't quite sure what she did wrong -- the solution she made was supposed to be aspirin. But then when she saw the affect it had, she didn't care. It got her a "C" in Chemistry, when she really should have failed. Hehehehehe. Trance Powder! Perfect. She would just have to make sure when they got to the concert, the Toenotes would breathe this stuff in and they would never sing another concert or make another CD ever again. 'Bwa ha ha!' Tiff thought to herself. ***** 5:45pm They were over 45 minutes behind schedule. Darn to heck, bad traffic! As they all got off the bus, Tiff found herself being herded with the other girls in a direction that was not toward the Skydome. "Where are we going?" She asked, confused. "To meet the band," the chaperone stated. "We're going to meet 98 Degrees of Five Backstreet Syncs in person?!?" "Of course, did you forget?" No wonder that man was so desperate at the airport. Why would he care about the concert? The girls would have ripped him apart for the fact that they would've missed meeting the band. Meeting the band was going to be great. Made her evil plan all the more easy to carry out. ***** 6:15pm All twenty girls were waiting in line, in a hotel hallway. They had been herded to the hotel in the Skydome. The chaperone stood in front of all them, as if to make an announcement. "Ladies, in a couple moments, the boys will start seeing you one at a time to sign autographs," he stated. The hall became filled with the sounds of squeals and chatter. Tiff was really sick of those sounds. One by one, each girl went into the hotel room. One by one each girl left the hotel room all giddy and hyper. One even almost fainted. Tiff didn't get it. She was never this boy crazy... but then, she always did have a fascination with older men. Much older men. Tiff was last. She entered the room to find the five guys appearing to be very happy to see her. "Hi, I'm Chad," one said. "I'm Travis." "I'm Trevor." "I'm Chip." "And I'm Daryl." Tiff couldn't believe that they did that stupid tv introduction speech even to their fans. "Oh, I know who you all are," Tiff stated hiking up her voice a couple notches to appear younger. "Mind if I gave you guys a gift?" Tiff started rummaging through her bag. "Sure, what is it?" One said moving in for a closer look. "Everyone come closer and I'll show you." They did. This was going to be too easy. The five boys were less than a foot away from Tiff. They were wondering what gift she had in the bag. Without warning, her head popped up, and she blew some white powder into their faces. They all gagged as they inadvertently breathed it in. "What did you do that for?" Travis, the blond one inquired, coughing and gagging. Not a second later a glazed look fell onto his face and the faces of the others. There they stood, awaiting Tiff's commands. End Part 2 *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Fri Aug 13 20:58:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FS4X-0003fG-01; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:53:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6059; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:36:15 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0202; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:36:15 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:36:44 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Williams Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Williams Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Calling Again? (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a7442faceae91bbbc9b0555be5f357a4 Title: Cousins LCL: Calling Again? (1/1) Date: Friday, August 13th Time: early morning Author: Annette Williams with permission from all used. "Oh no!" Annette groaned looking at the caller ID pad and remembering the last time Arletta phoned her. "Hi Arletta!" she said trying to sound cheerful. "It's war Annette, how soon can you get to toronto?" Arletta asked. 'Again! Well, there's a flight to toronto every couple hours or so. Let me check to see which one has space for employees and then I'll need to wrap up a couple details at work. I'm sure I'll be there sometime today.' "Ok, I have to talk to Shelley, we'll meet you at the Monastery. Let me give you directions from the Airport" Annette hung-up dreading the conversation with her boss regarding the strategy meeting scheduled for Monday as well as her schedule for the next two weeks. From - Fri Aug 13 21:04:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FSCQ-0005mc-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:01:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3816; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:55:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1611; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:55:53 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:57:10 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: Panic Can Get You Anywhere... (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f55d8d5f70044fd32002a08916aef57f WAR: UF: Panic Can Get You Anywhere... ...Even Toronto (2/2) By: Susan Field, Les GS, April Hackett, Lauren Hawes and Julia Kocich Time: Sometime Friday afternoon, August 13th Setting: Toronto, The Raven and the Hive After: RAVENETTES: "Party Plans!" but before the actual party. "Well, we best get inside also. Everyone must be wondering why we are so late!!" said Susan, starting towards the door. Suddenly she felt a hand reach out and yank her back towards the truck. "Er, aren't you forgetting something?" April asked. Susan seemed perplexed. "Oh, yeah, thanks for reminding me!!" April felt a bit of relief. For a moment there, she thought Susan was going to leave her to carry all the luggage in, as usual. Bad enough that the weight of the bags Susan brought actually made all her tires lose air! But, as Susan explained, every little bit of stuff she brought would be necessary, for all the partying she, April and all their fellow UFfers were going to do. Of course the main reason for their return to Toronto was to help in the clean-up of Lacroix's Broadcast Booth. They and all the other Factions, had received invitations from The Ravenettes, Nick's Harem, Nunkies Addicts, and the Nothers to attend parties they were throwing, and UFfers, being what and who they are, could never, in good conscience, turn down a good time! But, the clean-up had to happen first! April thought that traveling all the way to Toronto to clean was ridiculous, as she could have stayed home and done that! But Susan convinced her that the fun they would have at the Ravenettes' Party after with some of their fellow UFfers would be well worth the trouble. For a few moments, April actually started to wonder if the few bags of stuff she brought would be enough, as she only packed a few changes of outfits, an apron and rubber gloves! Susan reached into the back of the Dakota and pulled out a small duffel bag that seemed to woof!!!! "Susan, tell me you didn't!!" "Okay, I won't! Boy, I sure could use a cold glass of milk after that trip! And so could my, er, my duffel Bag!!" Then Susan went inside. April went up to the Dakota and banged her head on the hood. "Why do I always let her do these things to me?" she said aloud to no one. After a few moments of dizziness from the head banging, she started to unpack all the bags from the truck. Wondering, not for the first time today why Susan needed three bags marked "Payless Sneakers" and dozens more marked "Bongo Jeans"! There were a few marked "Cleaning Supplies" but it was the rest of the bags marked "Assorted" that were really peaking her interest, not to mention scaring the wits out of her, as one never quite knew what Susan might bring along on a trip! She was about to unzip one, when she heard Susan calling out to her. "Thought you could use this! Here, let me help you, you can't do all this yourself." April gratefully accepted the cold drink. "Thanks. For a moment there, I thought you forgot all about me out here." "Forget about you? April? My bud? My compadre? Never!! Let me just lend you a hand." April mumbled under her breath (what was left of it!), "Mighty nice of you, since most of the bags are yours anyway." "What's that you said, Bud? Couldn't hear you, had my head in the truck." "I said, er, mighty nice day!!!" Susan smiled. "Yup, sure is!!" April sipped her lemonade. Glad that Susan finally noticed that she was the only one actually unloading anything, she answered in an exhausted voice, "Thanks Susan, I'm not sure if I could have made it all the way to the door with all of these." "Sure, April, no problem!" said Susan as she lifted April's small handbag from her hand and added it to her own little handbag that she'd removed from the pile of luggage. "There, isn't that better?" said Susan as she walked ahead towards the Hive door. "Oh, yeah, makes all the difference in the world," April shouted, making a face at Susan that was best not seen by human-kind, as she struggled with the rest of the bags. April rolled her eyes around. `Two weeks with Susan... good thing we were invited to go parties!!! Nothing else could actually make me want to subject myself to two weeks of Susan's weird ways,' she thought, as she kicked the door open with the tip of her shoe. The foyer was clogged with luggage, some of extremely peculiar dimensions. April waded forward a few paces, then, with a sigh of relief, added her burdens to the growing pile. Then she ooched her way into the front room... INT - FRONT ROOM/BAR AREA OF THE HIVE - SWEEPING PAN The room is occupied by 11 women, scattered about the large room, seated at the long polished wood bar and the small tables spaced about on the parquet floor. Decorated with a simple elegance (Les had nothing to do with its design), the only slightly off note is the two posters, carefully matted and framed, of Nick & Natalie and Lacroix & Fleur, hanging over the bar. April moves past the POV into the room. Greetings ring out, Jules, sitting at the bar, waving an open bottle of Heineken in welcome. Marilyn sits in one of the comfortable chairs, a Claymore sword resting across her knees, where it is being openly admired by Megan. Shan, behind the bar, smelling of mead and artemesia, is fussing with an array of snacks she's apparently whipped up for her fellow UFfers. (They *look* like chicken nuggets with honey- mustard dip...) She's also seems to be tending bar, which, well stocked, offers anything from expresso to mead to beer to straight up scotch. Even tea, if one must. Earl Gray. Hot. (No, that wasn't a Xover, honest.) Amie and Susan are opening small hand-carried pieces of luggage. Out of Amie's pops a ferret, which upon being released, immediately skitters sideways across the floor. From Susan's bag, Cujo the Chihuahua emerges, wide eyes looking askance at the dancing mustelid. Elfin and `Chele, already at the bar, stand in companionable silence as they contemplate their choices of drink and snacks. With a flurry, a group of other people flow past the POV, the first woman pushed ahead of the others. On her entry, those already in the room cheer, and after a moment, she smiles despite herself and raises her hands, linked together by a pair of handcuffs, over her head in something like the victor's salute. Shan pulls the cork from a bottle of merlot, and Julia's expression becomes even more mellow. With her, rescued from the airport, are Richard and Dawn Clare and Liz, having just arrived from England. With them, having been discovered at the airport showing off her bull-whip to an accommodating customs officer, is Lora. Behind them follow Becky, Cleo and Presence, waffling between meeting everyone and taking a long, hot relaxing shower, to unwind from days of driving. The snacks and drinks tempt them into being sociable and they move to the bar, saying hello as they go. Amanda and Debbie emerge from the kitchen with a pot of tea and cups, to the relief of those that don't *do* coffee or alcohol. A suspiciously smiling Shan slides new trays of goodies up onto the bar. JULES: (hopping off her stool, then back on again) Julia, where are Les and Lauren? Weren't they driving in with you? JULIA: (Cradling her wine glass with both hands) Yes. We dropped them off a the Raven to get started on the clean-up. (She glances at the grandfather clock.) It starts in just a few hours. JULES: We best get cracking then! (But she does not get off her stool. In fact, she opens another beer.) LORA: Speaking of cracking, would you like to see the trick I learned with the bull-whip Megan got me? CHORUS OF UFFERS: No! You could put an eye out with that thing! LORA: What? Don't you trust me? The UFfers all laugh; such a silly question. But do they get up from out of their comfortable chairs, put down their refreshing drinks or stop nibbling the nummy snacks...? Noooo. In fact, they continue eating and drinking and talking and laughing. For hours and hours. While meanwhile poor Les is getting housemaid's knee, trembling in fear that some irate Ravenette will come bursting into the booth, eye-shadow in one hand and lipstick in the other- JULIA: Enough, Les. What? JULIA: This is getting silly. (Grumble...) Oh, all right. Julia put down her wine glass, getting it to the bar on her first try, and peered blearily at the clock. "If that says what I think it does, whoever's going to the Ravenettes party better go get ready." There is a chorus of agreement, and the convivial group begins to break up, most going into the foyer to collect their luggage and find their rooms. At this point the front door opens and another woman walks in, duffel bag over one shoulder. "Hi! Am I late?" "Yes, Debi!" a number of UFfers assure her. "Oh, good. I wouldn't want to shatter expectations. Is everyone else here, then?" "Except for Laurey and Shelley," Liz stated. "Laurey had to work yesterday and couldn't start driving up until today." "How do you know?" Dawn asked, puzzled, because Liz had been with herself and Richard on her uncle's jet all day. "E-mail," replied Liz, pointing at her laptop plugged into the phone outlet. "It had been hours with no `Net. I was starting to get the jitters." Informed and therefore content, the UFfers spread out through the Hive, finding their niches. "Hey!" yelled Jules, head popping out the door of the bedroom she used last War. "Who painted this one wall in here *pink*!?" Megan got a room on a corner, with windows looking out onto the gardens on two sides. She cracked the windows, though not too wide, given some rather threatening clouds, and began arranging her incense and oil burners on the top of her bureau. Lora found space, albeit a bit dusty, in the attic that suited her to a T. She decided to straighten it up a bit rather than party. She *did* want to get started setting up the bee hives early tomorrow morning. Susan cantered down the long hall on the second floor, Cujo barking behind her, caroling, "I get the room with the secret passage!" Meanwhile... It couldn't be happening again. Could it? Over a year had passed since the last time and hope had arisen that the horrors of May 1998 would not be repeated. O' woe, o' woe! Perhaps it was the wind, blowing tattered thunder clouds before it, pushing against the mansion known as the Hive, that created that soft creaking sound. A creaking that sounded strangely like whimpering. But, that low sound went unheard in a building suddenly filled with far greater noise and comings and goings than it had experienced in over a year. In the cluster of outbuildings, the stable, perhaps also affected by the wind, echoed the creak. But this creak sounded more like a manic giggle than a whimper. Inside the stable, safe from the wind and potential rain, a number of small critters rustled through the straw scattered on the floor. Another one of their number joined them, poking its head up through the gap in the floorboards that led to a longer, deeper space beneath. Black eyes glittered, beads of jet, and a sensitive nose twitched. Sweet. Tasty. Honey... From - Fri Aug 13 21:04:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FSCR-0005mc-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:01:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3823; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:56:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1694; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:56:56 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:44:59 -0400 Reply-To: Kim Kocak Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kim Kocak Organization: Prodigy Internet Subject: War: Enforecer : D Day(1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 238ee1dd6cc3a25e872a4eb05b0d9a13 D Day (1/1) By Kim Kocak Kim was working on her computer when the Red Alert came on. To All Enforcers: Return to the Toronto Headquarters immediately. Instructions will follow. Bring your files. War has begun. "Already!!" said Kim. She didn't get any sleep and was in dying need of it. But duty calls especially if it came from the Man In Black. Kim then called the airlines to book the next flight to Toronto and then called Headquarters and found out Enid was already there. "New Yorkers" mumbled Kim. She then made hotel reservations After taking a shower and packed, She took the car to the Pittsburgh International Airport. While driving to the airport she began to sing her favorite song Here come the Men in Black. (Men in Black) The vampire defenders. (ooh ooh) Here come the Men in Black. (Men in Black) They won't let you remember. (uh no, no) A-ight check it. Let me tell you this in closin'. I know we might seem imposin', But trust me if we ever show in your section. Believe me it's for your own protection. Cuz we see things that you need not see, And we be places that you need not be. So go with your life, Forget that vampire crap. Show love to the black suit. Cuz that's the Men in, That's the Men in... Here come the Men in Black. (Here they come) The vampire defenders. (vampire defenders) Here come the Men in Black. (oh, here they come) They won't let you remember. (won't let you remember) Smiling to herself, Kim thought about the words. Yes, this war is going to be different. From - Fri Aug 13 21:08:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FSEm-00042d-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:03:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7813; Fri, 13 Aug 99 20:55:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1595; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:55:48 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:57:07 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: Panic Can Get You Anywhere... (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f2d831972d2fe246d17644bb83cd1c87 WAR: UF: Panic Can Get You Anywhere... ...Even Toronto (1/2) By: Susan Field, Les GS, April Hackett,=20 Lauren Hawes and Julia Kocich Time: Sometime Friday afternoon, August 13th Setting: Toronto, The Raven and the Hive After: RAVENETTES: "Party Plans!" but before the actual party. The Raven and Ravenette Kimberly used with permission. Why, you may ask (and then again, you may not), was there an UFfer=20 on hands and knees, scrubbing behind Lacroix's old broadcast booth=20 at the Raven with a toothbrush? This was a question the UFfer,=20 Les, pondered herself, and, O' Best Beloved, is most appropriately=20 answered with a flashback. And what more apt way to begin an FK=20 War than with a flashback... The first phone call, from Ravenette Kimberly to UFfer Les in San=20 Diego, was painful. Not to mention that the words had come really,=20 really fast and she couldn't actually remember them all that well. =20 The upshot, however, was that she HAD to go to Toronto to clean up=20 a sticky mess in the broadcast booth at the Raven. And quickly,=20 before the party there on August 13th: Janette would *never* allow=20 a party with the place less than perfect. The *second* phone call was a tad less painful, at least to Les... "Hello?" the unsuspecting Julia said into the receiver. "You. Me. Handcuffs. Toronto. Now." "I ... don't suppose I could ask who is calling, can I?" Les could=20 hear the air going out of Julia's futile attempt at resisting the=20 inevitable. After a little back and forth, Julia still remained=20 confused as to a few particulars. For a change. "Okay, let me understand..." she said patiently, striving for=20 clarity. "Kimberly called you from the Raven in Toronto, to tell=20 you that they were cleaning up in preparation for a party. *But*=20 when they finally got around to Lacroix's old broadcast booth, they=20 found it was ... sticky-" "Tacky. Kimberly said the broadcast booth was tacky. Even the=20 ceiling." "Les, are you sure she wasn't making a comment on the decor?" "Why would she call *me* to make a comment about decor? More=20 importantly, why would she call *me* to demand I come eradicate the=20 tackiness if she's referring to its interior decorating? You've=20 been to my house." "Good point. You're right, she must mean that it's sticky." =20 Julia's brow furrowed. "But Les, we very carefully cleaned the=20 booth after we used it last War." "Um, er, yes, that's quite true, but you see, apparently we=20 overlooked some honey bears. And you know how honey can be. It=20 just kinda gets *everywhere* by sheer osmosis." "On the *ceiling*!?" "Well, it's had a whole year and then some, after all. But it=20 doesn't really matter *how* the honey got all over the room. They=20 want it cleaned up and they want *me* to do it and you guys can't=20 make me go in there by myself. These are Ravenettes we're talking=20 about here. They might... might *style* me or something." "Whose idea was it, may I ask, to leave the honey bears in the=20 broadcast booth?" "Mumble-mumble." "What?" Les shouted, "I was just trying to be helpful!" "How is leaving honey bears scattered around Lacroix's old=20 broadcast booth 'helpful'!?" "Well, in case he and Nick visited it. For old times' sake." "Les..." "Yeah?" Julia sighed and more-or-less automatically reached for the aspirin=20 bottle. "Never mind." Really, sometimes there was just no point=20 in trying to wade through the morass of Les' honey-soaked version=20 of reality. "I know!" Les blurted, suddenly gleeful. "I'll bring Lauren! =20 She's all styled already and Ravenettes are never redundant. =20 That's outr=82. So she'll be safe from being styled if I let her go=20 in first ahead of me. They'll never even notice me! She can=20 distract them with her shoes or something." "Good idea!" Julia said, hoping this would get her off the hook. Silly woman. What happened next was that Les... casually mentioned on the UF=20 Discussion List that she had to go to Toronto to clean up the=20 broadcast booth in the Raven... Oh, all right. She *panicked*. =20 In front of everyone. Unwilling to allow a fellow UFfer to face=20 such terror alone, a swarm of her compatriots dropped what they=20 were doing to rush to Toronto to help in this task... Oh, all=20 right. They figured out that there was a party at the Raven and=20 dropped everything to attend. Les had set out from San Diego in her purple van, a.k.a. The=20 Eggplant, and picked up Lauren in LA. They'd swept by Michigan to=20 gather up Cleo and Presence and then Wisconsin for Becky. Laptop=20 communication whilst on the road had confirmed that other UFfers,=20 from New Zealand to England and places between, were converging on=20 Toronto. The Eggplant's last stop before Toronto had been New York=20 to kidnap Julia... Les sighed, returning from her flashback reluctantly, just before=20 she got to the good part. She supposed *eventually* other UFfers=20 would show up to help swab the gummy mess off the walls, ceiling,=20 floor, console, chair... At least Lauren was out with the=20 Ravenettes, distracting them with Prada pumps and Gucci jackets or=20 whatever it was she flashed at them as they came in. Still on her=20 hands and knees, patiently wiping crystallized honey from the=20 casters of Lacroix's chair, she came across the offensive creature=20 that had started this whole scenario. A plastic honey bear, the cap=20 on tight, but empty of its contents. "What the heck?" She turned it over in her hands to find two sharp=20 puncture marks in the general vicinity of the bear's neck. "Oooh,"=20 Les inhaled sharply. Janitorial work had just become far more=20 fascinating. Now, in all fairness, the punctures *could* have been=20 made by a stiletto heel. But... Les spaced out again. Meanwhile, let's play games with time, shall we, hitting rewind, to=20 return to a couple hours before... On the afternoon of Friday, August 13th, Julia sat outside the=20 Raven, handcuffed to the steering wheel of Les' van. She watched=20 as a cool and poised Lauren knocked on the front door, while Les,=20 short hair sticking straight up, jittered behind her. After a=20 rather extended wait, the door was opened. Lauren spoke to the=20 woman holding the door for a moment, then she was admitted, Les=20 oozing in after her. The door closed. Julia glanced into the rearview mirror at the three women seated=20 behind her. "So," she said, tones pleasantly chipper, "why don't=20 we just unlock these handcuffs and find a coffee shop?" "Nope," replied Becky, shaking her head. "Les said you'd make a=20 break back to New York if we let you loose." Cleo and Presence, on=20 the bench seat all the way in the back, Lauren's luggage looming=20 over their heads behind them, nodded in agreement. "Les would be pretty mad," added Cleo. "She's been looking forward=20 to kidnapping you. She's been talking about it all the way from=20 Michigan." "I think it was to take her mind off of what the Ravenettes might=20 do," chimed in Presence. "C'mon, Julia, let's get going," Becky urged. "We have to meet the=20 Clares and Liz at the airport. Dawn's uncle's jet should be there=20 any time now. Then we need to get to the Hive, unpack, and then=20 get back here to help with the clean-up." Snarling under her breath, Julia put the van in drive and swung=20 into traffic. ~~~~~~~~~~ The tow truck that read "There's No Business Like Tow Business" on=20 the side pulled in front of the driveway of the Hive. Hooked to the=20 back was April's truck. Along with April, Susan and Elfin, inside=20 the Dakota. The threesome had pre-arranged to meet inside the=20 airport terminal and make the trip to the Hive together. April=20 jostled Susan in the arm. She had been engrossed in a story from=20 the UF "Pillow Book" and hadn't noticed they had arrived at long=20 last. The driver maneuvered the truck so that it was only mostly=20 inconvenient for the other vehicles already in the driveway to get=20 around it. April and Susan recognized Jules' motorcycle and=20 Megan's Geo Tracker (with the license plate HNY STX). Between them=20 was an Explorer they hadn't seen before. As the tow truck driver=20 backed and jinked, a small, nondescript car, clearly an airport=20 rental, swung through the open gate, swerved around them and=20 parked. The driver, a woman with *RED* hair, got out and waved at=20 them. "Hi, `Chele!!!!" Susan shrieked from her seat between the other two=20 women. April and Elfin blinked in pain, working their jaws to=20 equalize the air pressure in their ears. `Chele pointed at the=20 Hive, indicating she'd meet them inside, and then began gathering=20 bags. Her passenger got out as well, waved a bit tentatively and=20 called, "Hi! I'm Amie. From New Zealand." Her hair was also red,=20 though hers was actually a shade found in nature, unlike `Chele's. "Hi, Amie!!!!" Susan shrieked and the other women in the truck's=20 cab whimpered. "Okay, folks!!!" yelled the husky driver, cigar hanging out of his=20 mouth, as he unhooked the truck. "Here we are!!" Then, after April=20 paid him, he pulled away, leaving the trio sitting in the Dakota=20 which had four flat tires. Elfin had already removed her luggage and stepped out of the truck,=20 stretching her legs, glad that the long uncomfortable trip was=20 over. "Thanks for the `Pick-Up'," she said to April and Susan,=20 thinking to herself that perhaps taking an airport taxi would have=20 been the better choice! Seeing that right after they all climbed=20 into April's transportation with all the luggage, the tires began a=20 short decent downward and the group found themselves waiting for=20 three hours for a tow truck! "See you inside!" Elfin said smiling, as she lifted her things and=20 walked into the Hive. `What a Wacky pair!' she thought shaking her=20 head. Sounds of greetings from fellow UFfers could be heard=20 outside, as the door opened. Continued in (2/2) From - Fri Aug 13 21:08:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FSGT-0005uk-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:05:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3851; Fri, 13 Aug 99 21:00:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2065; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:00:39 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:01:04 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: FoD: Soluvaki Anyone? 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2830ba410ede30d5f50de8b344f1a919 WAR:Solvaki anyone? By Cindy Brewer Everyone used with permission Friday the 13th late afternoon As soon as Kathy pulled the van to a stop in front of the Deli the FoD's piled out. As the last one out Cindy looked down at her fur lined neon lime green wetsuit and shook her head. She looked at the line of FoD's filing into the deli and Cindy could only imagine what passerby's on the street were thinking of them. They must've made quite a sight with all the luggage and scuba gear not to mention the fish...... "Spiff, the deli looks great!"Cindy exclaimed as she caught up with the rest of the group inside the deli. The small blonde woman leaned on the broom as she turned to face her,"The oven's still a mess but other than that I think we're ready to open for business." Cindy glanced at the clock above and counter and froze,"Spiff,is that the right time?" "Yeah,why?" It was almost five thirty. Cindy moved to stand by Kathy who was the closet FoD to the door,"Because we've got just under three hours to get settled into the Moose Lodge and get ready for the Ravenette's party tonight. So who all is coming?" The brown haired woman grinned as every single person in the room instantly raised their hand. "Alright,let's get going then."Cindy replied as she grabbed her second in command by the elbow,"Kathy,you can call Schanke from the cell phone." end. From - Fri Aug 13 21:23:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FSWi-0006YH-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:22:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6267; Fri, 13 Aug 99 21:18:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3160; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:18:30 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:10:19 -0400 Reply-To: Adam Clifford Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Adam Clifford Subject: Re: WAR: ATTN: Brenda Bell To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a2bdb8b7d565ddfa2a68862e7d4e50b2 Sorry to post this this way, but I don't have your email addres... I accidentally deleted your WAR post that came through earlier today. could you resend to me offlist? thanks From - Fri Aug 13 22:26:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FT5J-00000e-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:58:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6420; Fri, 13 Aug 99 21:49:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5112; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:49:59 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:51:41 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: WAR: NA: An Addict, a Bus, and a Boyband (03/03) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 11891c519c719600c39dfdfc1fb19db7 NA: "An Addict, a Bus, and a Boyband" (03/03) by Evil Cousin Tiff (w/a snippet by Third Cousin Patt) Time: After 9pm, Friday, August 13 Place: the Toenote limo, the Shrine Permissions by: Third Cousin Patt ************************* This was going all too well. Tiff had a boyband that now worshipped the ground she walked on, not to mention did everything she told them to do. They didn't play the concert, and after driving around with the Temperate Toenotes for the past few hours (in their limo!), she managed to teach them the workings of being a film crew. She wouldn't have to carry any of that heavy equipment! Hooray! Tiff and her five devout followers entered the Shrine for the first time. There was loud sounds of construction and banging. It reminded her of the remodeling that was going on while she was in high school. She also took notice of the very muscular and good looking construction workers laboring in the Shrine. That also reminded her of the remodeling that went on in her high school during her senior year. "Ouyszh," she stated under her breath as one walked by, very close to her. She did enjoy watching *that* man leave. A tap on the shoulder caused Tiff the jump in surprise. She turned to see a woman standing behind her. "Who are you?" The woman asked. 'This must be Patt,' Tiff thought looking at the brunette woman not much taller than herself. She put her hand out to shake. Patt shook it. "Hi, I'm Evil Cousin Tiff." The mature addict cocked her head at the new arrival. "That's nice. Just what we need . . . more evil." Patt looked past Tiff, eyeing the Toenotes. "Who are those guys?" "Oh, just a boyband which worships me," Tiff grinned. Patt rolled her eyes. "Why does evil and worship always go hand in hand?" She looked back at the singing group. "Are you planning to keep them at the Shrine? Do they eat much?" Tiff shrugged. "Probably. Does that matter?" "No," Patt sighed. "Just set them up with a tab at the Peach. Charge it to the *construction expense* account." "Speaking of construction," Tiff said, looking around at the vampirish activity. "What is going on here?" "We're in the throes of remodeling," Patt said, her mind already leaving the conversation with the newly arrived addict. "Excuse me, but I gotta go check on some spackling." "Sure thing," Tiff said, watching the Third Cousin walk away. Suddenly Tiff couldn't believe she forgot to ask if any boxes arrived recently. She had sent all her film equipment via delivery service, and wanted to get started on her documentary right away! "Vamos, mis amigos! We've got boxes of film equipment to find," Tiff stated as she headed toward the Jeweled Peach. End part 3 and opener *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Fri Aug 13 22:26:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FT7K-00005X-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:00:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8083; Fri, 13 Aug 99 21:58:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5609; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:58:14 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:00:03 PDT Reply-To: Lisa Harvey Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Harvey Subject: WAR: Comfy Cottage at Last (1 of 1) Friday afternoon To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cbe7c0cd8c57a208fb7e40cc8bf23523 Comfy Cottage at Last! (1 of 1) Written by: Kyer en Ysh, with input from those mentioned herein Time: Friday afternoon, After "Meeting the Natives" __________________________________________ Kyer, magically transformed into her usual introverted self now that she and her loved ones were no longer in danger, sat quietly in the front seat of Lisa's car as they drove up to the Comfy Cottage, CotK H.Q. extraordinaire. Or maybe Bel Aire. Gadzooks-- the place was HUGE! (She fervently hoped her room would have plenty of nooks and crannies as she didn't much care for big, open spaces. Kyer-sized hidey holes were a must. It was the Paranoid in her.) Looking at the place with a critical eye, she decided the English Cottage trimmings looked kind of out of place in a building that appeared to be as big as some hotels. The moat with drawbridge was a nice touch though. Lisa did the door bell honors as the duo disembarked, while Kyer anxiously glanced about .. 'Calmness... calmness... it's only people', the Schitzoid Knightie consoled herself. 'Just a few almost perfect strangers I met online because of my love for Nicholas. People who I'm going to be sharing space with what the heck am I doing here?!!' She stifled the urge to bolt as the door opened to Margie's and J.L. Kerr's smiling faces. What a time to get one of her: 'I vant to be alone! 'attacks! "Hi, Lisa! And this must be--" "Spitz!" Answered the ashen-skinned woman in the poncho. "I beg your pardon?" "Umm.. my llama. Mr. Spitz." Kyer indicated her puppet. "And I'm J.L. Kerr." J.L. smiled back while giving Lisa a questioning look. She gamely shook Mr. Spitz's foreleg; Margie did the same. They politely stepped aside to allow Lisa and Kyer entry. While Kyer stood looking around the common room, J.L. whispered to Lisa: "Is she alright?. "She does seem kinda spaced," commented Margie. "Maybe it was the shock of being arrested?" Lisa shrugged, "She was downright ornery at the station. Quiet as a sleeping space chicken on the ride here, though." "What's that about the Space Chickens?" Morgaine's voice queried as she popped her head from out of the music room. "Kyer!" Boundless energy descended on the wide-eyed figure who hurriedly stepped back while placing her puppet between herself and the younger woman just in time to avoid being crushed in a hug. "Aack!" Morgaine stepped back and wiped at the garlic juice dripping from her neck. Kyer's face was a postcard for angst. "Oops! Sorry... Morgaine?" "That's me." "Sorry about that, Morgaine. But Mr. Spitz is really funny about hugs and stuff. He doesn't like to be touched, ya know?" "*Now* you tell me. Well.. no real harm done. Lucky thing I'm not a vampire. Say! Wanna introduce Mr. Spitz to my Space Chickens?" *That* perked up her animal-loving friend. "Ooo-- we like chickens, don't we Mr. Spitz! Only... is the larder stocked yet? Kyer rubbed her growling stomach. "I'm kinda hungry. Haven't eaten all day. Long flight and cash problems." "Past the dining room, thru the kitchen." "Thanks." Minutes later they heard an angry yell. "Dagsnaggled-darn it, Mr. Spitz! Who ate half a carton of *MY* RICE DREAM!!" Lisa looked beseechingly towards the beamed ceilings and asked: "Invisible Space Chickens and now a split-personalitied eccentric. It's going to be a long War." _______________________________________ End of: Comfy Cottage at Last! (1 of 1) _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 22:26:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FT8E-000087-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:01:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6447; Fri, 13 Aug 99 21:56:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5421; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:56:27 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:58:15 PDT Reply-To: Lisa Harvey Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Harvey Subject: WAR: Meeting the Natives (1 of 1) Friday Afernoon To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 961e73cbffb520f954cefc46776c53ff Meeting the Natives (1 of 1) Written by: Kyer en Ysh Time: Friday afternoon, After "Comfy Is As Comfy Does" ____________________________________ Toronto sure was big. Of course, so was Phoenix-- but Kyer had never actually wandered around in her home city either. Spotting an empty park bench, she sidled up to it, decided it looked clean enough, and gratefully sank down onto the seat. What good was finding a phone book if your destination was too new to be listed? And what good was a phone without Canadian money? Ruefully, she took out a silverish, American coin and stared at it. "Doggone it anyway, Mr. Spitz. If they are going to use 'quarters' and 'dollars' you'd think they'd make their machines accept them! Why call it the same thing if it's not the same? Darn unfriendlyish these Canadian folk, tricking tourists like that." She hurriedly stuffed the quarter back into a pocket as an elderly man sat down beside her. "Excuse me, mister... ?" Kyer began shyly. "Yes?" The white-haired gent twisted a bit to better address the strangely attired person. Kyer reached down to fetch her map, unconsiously squeezing 'Mr. Spitz' torso in a particular fashion as she did so. A short stream of pungent liquid suddenly shot from the puppet's mouth and hit the man square in the eye. The result was spectacular. "Gaaaaaahhhh!" The plainitive wail caught the attention of a passing policeman who came rushing over. He took one look at the confused looking woman and the sputtering man and sighed. A tourist. And an American at that. Today was not his day. "What seems to be the problem here?" "That woman accosted me with her puppet!" The old man snarled, dabbing carefully at his reddening eye while pointing an accusing finger. The officer found himself smiling. The furry beige toy certaintly looked innocent enough. "May I?" He held out his hand. Kyer reluctantly handed over her synthetic companion. "Mr. Spitz never hurt anybody." she grumbled, eyeing the aged gent "Oh, I'm sure, " the officer smiled, holding up the toy to get a better look at the face. It sure was a cute thing. And nicely made... His hand squeezed where it shouldn't have and the puppet responded by living up to its name. "What the...?! This thing spit at me!" He tossed the puppet down onto the ground in order to wipe uselessly at the garlic juice staining the front of his uniform. A low growl started deep within the Arizonan's throat and worked its way up as she picked up the crumpled heap. "You hurt Mr. Spitz!" Forgetting herself, she kicked him in the shins causing him to hop back into a passing pedestrain who whalloped him with her purse before she realized who it was. "OW!" "I told you, officer-- she's a menace!" declared the righteous octogenarian, shaking his fist in emphasis and succeeding in striking a curious spectator a glancing blow. "Watch where your putting your fist, old man--- !" "Ouch!" "Leggo!" "Oh, yeah! Well. ta-- " Within moments the scene had become a minor brawl. Kyer stared wide eyed as she instinctively ducked this way and that, somehow managing to avoid the various blows being randomly thrown by the growing knot of combatants. And all the travel books had stated that Canadians were a peaceable folk. "Maam, I'm afraid I'm going-- hey!" Kyer made a run for it. At home, Mexican jails were rumored to be places you did not want to visit up close and personal like--- she didn't particularly desire the chance to do a direct critique of this other member of the North American continent's jail cells. ______________________________ Later: At a Toronto precinct: Dark brown eyes glared at the officer as she finished dialing the number the information clerk had finally located for her. Back at the Comfy Cottage, the CotK were busy setting things up when they heard the phone ring once. The answering machine picked up. {{"If you wish to speak with one of the CotK and are affiliated with one of the following factions: (Kyer impatiently drummed her fingers on the phone while listening to the litany of various other Forever Knight factions) please dial 1. If you're name is either Nicholas de Brabant or Lucien LaCroix--- "HOLD ON! ONE OF US--HECK! ALL OF US WILL BE WITH YOU JUST AS SOON AS WE CAN FIGHT EACH OTHER OFF TO BE THE FIRST TO THE PHONE!"}} Oh, great... what were you supposed to dial if you *were* CotK? Smiling at the waiting guard, she took a chance and stabbed option number two. "What the heck kinda message is that?!... Uh.. Hello? Is there anybody there? This is... um... Kyer... and I kinda need someone to pick up the phone-- Guys, I'm in the KLINK and I *don't* mean sightseeing or visiting a certain gentleman of the old school! So-- PICK UP THE DARN PHONE!!" Lisa took up the receiver: "Kyer, is that you? Where are you?" "I'm at the 90-something or other and all this place serves is junk food! Can one of you guys come over and post bail before we starve?" Lisa looked over to Morgaine who was helping JL load some move some equipment and mouthed: We? Morgaine just shrugged. Last they had heard, Kyer had not been able to get anyone to drive her this far north and was looking into alternative transportation. She had said nothing about bringing a companion with her. "Hold on, Kyer. I'll be right over as soon as I can. Just give me the directions." Kyer repeated the street address the guard gave her. "Morgaine--- thank goodness you came!" "Actually, I'm Lisa." "Lisa." *Cousin* Lisa? We'll wasn't this just spiffy? Oh, well... she was still CotK. Kyer extended her hand as if she were afraid it would be bitten off. "Kyer... and" she grabbed her puppet out of her guard's hands before he could stop her, "This is Mr. Spitz. Say hello to Lisa, Mr. Sptiz." Instantly (after a small struggle) the guard relieved her of the toy. "I--think I'd better hold onto this until you're ready to leave the station," he said over her protests. The last thing he wanted was for this 'Lisa' to get accidently squirted and depart in a huff--- without this foreign wacko! Lisa listened in a daze as Kyer rattled off the events of her life since landing in Canada. The rapid-fire words were giving her a headache. "And then they tried to take away Mr. Spitz! I tell you, Lisa, this had better be a darn good reason I'm here, cause I'm not too thrilled with the whole travel experiance right now.... are we, Mr. Spitz?" "Listen, Kyer, If you don't mind my asking," Lisa asked as they headed for the front desk, "what's with the puppet? Talking to it I mean." "It's either that or talk to myself, and doing that makes mom upset. She tends to think you can go barmy if you talk to yourself. Doesn't she, Mr. Spitz?" Kyer noticed the ever-diligent guard standing close by. "Do you mind?" She glared. "This is a private 3-party conversation and *you* weren't invited!" The man sighed heavily before turning to address Lisa. "Maam, seeing as you are both visitors and not permanent residents"-- (thank God)-- " We're willing to let this one go (cause we're tired of listening to her babbling)-- *If* you are willing to take responsibility for your companion and keep her behavior controlled." Lisa was beginning to have doubts *anyone* could control Kyer, but she nodded her head anyway. It was getting late. ______________________________________ End of: Meeting the Natives (1 of 1) _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 22:26:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FTEf-0006WK-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:07:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6502; Fri, 13 Aug 99 22:05:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6127; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:05:28 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:07:14 PDT Reply-To: Lisa Harvey Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Harvey Subject: WAR: One 6-Pack Assembled & Ready (1 of 1) Friday Evening To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 200214c3f3cad7ed3b4187e640eb83eb One 6-Pack Assembled & Ready (1 of 1) Written by: Anjali, Morgaine, Kyer En Ysh Time: Friday evening, around 6:00 p.m., After "Comfy Cottage at Last!" Anjali blinked several times as she approached the comfy cottage. Her eyes felt very weird after travelling from England to Canada with her contact lenses in. She attempted to smooth down her long dark-blonde hair that right now probably looked like she'd been dragged through a bush. It didn't work. Nervously she hoped that Nick hadn't decided to pay a surprise visit *just* yet. The Cousin of the Knight's home for the next two weeks looked just like any country cottage, except... well, bigger. She could hazard a guess that this was because of all the extra stuff that the cottage had that others didn't - like the en suite bathrooms, and the pantry/larder with enough food to fill an army. An army. Anjali grinned at the thought. Now they were at war, the phrase seemed to make more sense. Anjali couldn't resist running round to see the creek and the pond she had been told her room looked out on. It was just as great as she'd imagined, but she didn't get too close, unable to remember if they'd eventually decided on goldfish or pirahnas for the natural pond's inhabitants. She wanted to have a sneak peek at her room, but besides being on the second floor the dark blue curtains were closed. She made a mental note to send a thank you card... no, a letter to Morgaine's auntie for enthusiastically offering to decorate the cottage before they arrived. Perhaps they'd asked for too much... nah. According to Morgaine her Auntie was a painting and decorating fanatic. Satisfied, and deciding she'd better get inside before everyone else arrived first, Anjali traipsed back round to the front door. She hated always being late. As she went inside, she thought she saw one person going down a hallway. She heard some voices, and going towards them, saw several more of whom she supposed would be her fellow Cousins of the Knight, sitting around the living room talking. They all looked up at the college-aged girl as she entered, and she grinned shyly. "Er, hi," She quickly ran her eyes over their heads and counted four. Including the person she'd seen going down the hallway, that was five altogether. Darn. That made her last after all. "Um, did I miss anything?" "You're from England, aren't you?," Kyer gave her a small smile. "I like England--- Watership Down, Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Who. I'm Kyer. Want some mat'e tea? Jalepeno anything?" "Um.. no. No thank you." "Ah." Kyer went silent, daydreaming of Dr. Who and SuperMarionation shows long past. Next to Kyer's still daydreaming figure, a young red-head trembled nervously. "Watership Down? No! Keep it away!" Margie joined in. "Problem, Morgaine?" Morgaine nodded rapidly. "Cartoon movie. It was horrible, horrible! I saw it when I was little...for years I've been haunted by it! The bunnies were trapped underground! The fields were COVERED IN BLOOD!" Margie was apparently used to this. "Anjali, Morgaine. Morgaine, Anjali. And I'm Margie." The others waved. Anjali smiled nervously. "Hi everybody." Morgaine quickly snapped out of it and, nearly tripping over Kyer, bounced up to Anjali. "You're from England! That is so kewl! I'm mostly English myself ya know. So what's England like? You wanna trade nationalities?" "Ummm..." Lisa smiled. "Don't worry. She's always like that...some sorta Britain obsession. By the way, I'm Lisa." "Anjali." Anjali glanced in confusion at the strange puppet sitting on Kyer's lap. "What is that?" At this, Kyer seemed to awaken. "Spitz!" "Excuse me?" Morgaine replied. "Mr. Spitz. He's Kyer's llama." Kyer coughed. "Actually, Mr. Spitz is his own llama. He has free will...he just chooses to remain with me. That's because we understand each other, don't we Mr. Spitz?" "Mutual insanity must be rather bonding," Margie mumbled. Morgaine giggled. Kyer paused long enough to flash Margie an indignant look, and began speaking softly to Mr. Spitz. Anjali slowly nodded. "Was that J.L. I saw going down the hallway?" "Yep. She was headed for the basement," said Morgaine. "She's got stuff down there I've never even heard of! When she tries to explain it, I can feel my brain screaming 'NOOO!' Kyer seems to understand some of it, though. J.L.'s been showing her stuff and how it works. Right, Kyer?" "We like the pretty winky-blinky lights, don't we Mr. Spitz?" "Um...exactly what I meant. Maybe later we can monkey around with some of that technological stuff?" Being a Friend of the RatPack, Morgaine also liked shiny things and 'winky-blinkies'. Anjali smiled. "Sure. And we can duel too...did you bring your lightsaber?" "Yep! Never leave the country without it!" Morgaine smiled. She had a feeling that she and Anjali were going to get along just wonderfully. _______________________________________ End of: One 6-Pack Assembled & Ready (1 of 1) _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 13 22:26:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FTUO-0000t7-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:24:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8184; Fri, 13 Aug 99 22:18:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7069; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:18:14 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:19:50 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Getting Away From It All? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ec910401edf994f85fa0cb6a83888317 WAR: NA: Getting Away From It All? Time: Friday, August 13, 10 a.m. By: Annie Raper Players: Annie Raper, Pat Laster, Patt Elmore--all used with permission Place: Wichita, KS and Toronto, Ontario Annie and Pat pulled into the parking lot of Newman University in beautiful Wichita, Kansas. The trip had been planned for months, and both were excited beyond words to be away from Little Rock and all their responsibilities there. So what if it meant telling a little white lie to get away from the Shrine for a few days? Annie thought. She needed this vacation, and couldn't wait for all the concerts and seminars that the ArtsFest had promised. Nunkies' Shrine was in capable hands. "Okay," Annie said after putting the car into park, "I've got the dulcimer class today and the creative writing one tomorrow. What are you taking?" Pat searched through her festival packet for the registration form. "Story telling and native bead work." She closed the packet. "Dulcimer class, hmm?" she asked with a wink. Annie blinked and pushed a wayward curl back into place. "Well, yeah. You know I've always wanted to learn how to play. And we're gonna learn other percussion kind of stuff, too. You never know when being able to play a rhythm on a popcorn tin is gonna come in handy." She opened the car door and gathered her things. "Right," Pat said, doing the same. "And Zumwalt McAuliffe has nothing to do with it." Annie stopped and looked at her red-headed friend across the hood of the car. "No," she said emphatically, then paused. "Well, maybe his presence helps my interest along a bit." "A bit? That would be Cheesy Rationalization #485, wouldn't it?," Pat retorted. "If it helps you sleep at night." Annie slammed the car door. "Whatever. Let's go register." "I really can't wait for this," Pat said. "Me neither," Annie replied. "It's gonna be way cool. Really." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Pat and Annie got their the class assignments and found the rooms on the university map. "Meet you after the session?" Pat asked as they walked down the hallway. "Yep," Annie nodded in punctuation. "That is unless..." Annie trailed off, stopping outside the designated room. "Unless what?" "I can talk Zumwalt into a private lesson ...." Annie let the sentence waver in the air. Pat grinned. "Yeah, right. But, what would Nunkies say?" Pat asked. Annie stopped at the door. "I don't know, but I imagine I could come up with something to placate him." With a lascivious grin, Annie entered the classroom. ~*~*~~*~*~~*~*~*~~*~ "Now, how do I do this?" Annie asked Zumwalt, hands on dulcimer mallets. The blonde man smiled - Annie held them upside down. "Not like that, honey," he laughed, taking the mallets out of her hands and turning them around. "Like this," he said and sidled behind her, hands over her own. "Hold 'em like this." "O-kay," Annie chirped. Oh, Pat won't believe this one ... "Now, what?" "Annie!" Pat hollered as she burst through the door. "One of the volunteers told me -- oh," she paused as she took a good look at the goings on in the room. Annie bit back the obscenity that was on the tip of her tongue. "Pat, this is Zumwalt. Zumwalt, Pat. My roommate." She glared at Pat. "My soon to be maimed roommate. What is it? And what are you carrying?" The redheaded Pat cleared her throat. "My class got finished early. 'Course," she coughed delicately, "I can see why yours was late. You had an urgent message from the Third Cousing to get to Toronto immediately. Something about the Shrine." She smiled at Annie's grimace and Zumwalt's confusion. She placed a hand on Zum's shoulder and said, "Don't worry, sweetie. I'll fill you in later." She returned her attention to Annie. "I took the liberty of booking your ticket. And I packed your bag." Pat held out said bag in demonstration that she had, indeed, been the dutiful roommate and packed Annie's bag. She looked at her watch. "You've got about fifteen minutes to get to the airport, so you better end this little session now." "But, what about ... I can't go now, I'm in the middle of a lesson here!" Annie sputtered. Zumwalt let go of her hands and moved from behind her. "That's okay, Annie. We'll pick up later this weekend" "No, you won't," Pat said. "But," she added, seeing Annie's surprise, "I'll take lots and lots of notes for you." She placed Annie's luggage in one Nunkmommy hand, and shoved the airline ticket in the other. "You better get going," she repeated. Annie looked at her watch, then cast a regretful glance at Zumwalt. "Au revoir, cherie," she said. Then, after giving Pat a look that should have placed the wayward Addict six feet under, Annie stomped out of the room and towards the car. "Now, what were you showing Annie?" Pat asked. Outside the doorway, the Nunkmommy fumed, "Oh, am I gonna remember this one..." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Annie reached Midcontinent Airport with minutes to spare. Once on board, she took a few minutes to collect herself, as she had to do the OJ sprint yelling, "Hold the plane! Hold the plane!" all the way to the gate. After she got her bearings and caught her breath and the plane had reached cruising altitude, she pulled out her calling card and reached for the air-phone. She smiled at the dark-haired man next to her. "I have to call my friend. Gotta be sure someone will pick me up." The handsome man nodded. She quickly dialed the number for the Shrine. "She better pick up ...." Annie mumbled. The phone was answered on the third ring. The Third Cousin sounded out of breath when she said, "Hello?" The conversation that followed was intriguing at the least. Annie listened to Patt, occasionally redirecting the conversation to achieve some kind of coherency. The mature addict mumbled on about LaCroix, renovations, construction vampires and an unreachable Bons. It seemed that poor Patt was panicing. "Okay, then," Annie replied. "I'll see you when I land. Just remember to have someone waiting for me with the limo." She rung off and placed the phone back in it's cradle. She pulled out her handy walkman from her bag, put the headphones on and cranked up The Seltzer Big Band's "Hop, Boogie, Yell" tape. She tapped the handsome stranger next to her on the arm. "If I start to snore, please wake me up." The man laughed. "No problem," he said. "Thanks," Annie smiled. She settled back in her seat and closed her eyes. A thought startled her, and she sat bolt upright. "One more thing," she said to the man next to her, "if I start singing, please tell me to shut up." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~~ End anniebug@worldnet.att.net From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FToX-0007m1-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:44:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4287; Fri, 13 Aug 99 22:33:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8273; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:33:57 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:35:46 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: War: DP: Ready to Party To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ba6ca1c8e79b2512afaeb90e4819c9c5 Martin sits down and watches the flurry of motion as various Dark Perk ladies rush around getting ready for a night out on the town, or at the Raven. He consiously adjusts the black leather duster he borrowed from one of his friends back home. He smiles as he works his way through the coffee. (Hmm, the perfect bean. I'll have to remember to take some back with me to college.) A random kick toward a pink demon sends it sailing across the room to hit the wall with a splat. Even the eager newbie inside of him knows the importance of the party; getting to know each other before the War fully breaks out, the alliances, who gets along as friends or adversaries, and other things that don't really come to mind at the moment. "Ladies, you all look beautiful tonight. Shall we be on our way?" _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:18 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FTu1-0001sG-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:50:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8346; Fri, 13 Aug 99 22:48:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9519; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:48:28 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 19:53:46 -0700 Reply-To: Anne Jensen Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Anne Jensen Subject: WAR: DP/PERK: A Run of Good Luck... To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 43410ff79811ec834206a89bd3bbed3b WAR: DP/PERK: A Run of Good Luck... TIME: Friday, August 13, around 5:30 PM PDT by Anne Jensen (ajensen@west.net) Some things happen with loud booming sounds which echo from the surrounding hills--reverberating until the noise is so intense it causes the bones to vibrate, bright flashing lights that ripple across the night sky in blazes of color that rival day, and explosions of slightly warm dark pink ribena-flavored jello. This was not one of them. Setting down her purse and backpack, Anne sank into her desk chair. Another work week over and done with. Finally time to get around to all of the things she'd been putting off for the week: cleaning off her hard drive, trimming her rose bushes, reading the week's accumulated mail... Trying to decide which to tackle first, she polished off the bottle of FruityFizz (tm) left over from her lunch and was about to toss it into the recycling bin when something caught her eye. FruityFizz was holding some contest or other, and she'd grown used to seeing the "Sorry. Please Play Again." message on the inside of the label. Except this time, instead of "Please Try Again", it read, "Congratulations!" Anne blinked, turned on her desk lamp to examine the label more closely, and blinked again. Realizing that she was starting to look like a Vaquera, she set the bottle down, rubbed her eyes, and wondered if she was getting senile now that she had hit the "ancient" age of 25. When she opened her eyes and put on her glasses, the "Congratulations!" was still there, wishing her felicitations on winning--and she didn't even know what the prize was. This was amazing! This was unbelievable! This was--not the first time something along these lines had happened to her. As if on cue, the phone rang. Still bemused by the message in the bottle (or more properly on the inside of the label *of* the bottle), she picked it up. "Hello?" "Anne? It's Mary. You have to get to Toronto, right away. We're concluding the deal of the century--this one *or* next one--and you need to be here to help us celebrate." Anne heard a pause as Mary took a sip of coffee. "Plus there's a rumor that war is on the horizon, and Tracy wants all of us here to help." Anne dropped the bottle. "War? Are you kidding? Last War, my brother was in the hospital for six weeks, I got laid off of work, and, thanks to the Light Cousins, I spent several torturous hours singing the theme to the Patty Duke show." On the other end of the line, Mary took another sip of coffee. "So when should we expect you?" Anne thought about it. "Pick me up at the airport in, say, eight hours?" "We'll be there," Mary assured her. "Oh, and Anne, you *are* bringing supplies to make brownies, right?" Anne smiled. "Of course. What would a DP party be without DP Brownies?" "See you later, then!" Hanging up the phone, Anne pulled out a sheet of paper and began making a list: "Chocolate, socks, shorts, shirts, chocolate, a couple of nice outfits for the parties, assorted toiletries, all of her Star Wars books and the Scarlet Pimpernel sequels, and, of course, more chocolate..." The phone rang again. She picked it up. "Hello?" "May I please speak to Miss Anne Jensen?" "Speaking," "This is Sunny Electronics. You recently purchased a camera from us?" "Um-hmm." Anne added "Star Wars tapes" and "chocolate" to the list. "Well, we're calling to inform you that you're the winner of our "Picture Yourself in the Sun" vacation contest. Congratulations!" Fin. Anne Jensen ajensen@west.net Token perky Perk of the DPs, DP Brownie Maker, and Vettern of War 9 :) From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:18 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FTyF-00020u-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:54:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8377; Fri, 13 Aug 99 22:52:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9947; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:52:54 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:55:33 -0400 Reply-To: Soulseeker Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Soulseeker Subject: War:N&NPack: Preparing for the Invasion To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9aeb9e921d61e49f8f3eec5d7a20b452 War:N&NPack: Preparing for the Invasion By Soulseeker and the N&NPack Friday Afternoon The day was anything but pleasant as Soulseeker stood outside the theatre surveying the N&NPack headquarters. It was very windy and the sky promised rain with thunderstorms very likely. Sighing she turned to her 2nd in Command, Susan, and signaled for the work to begin. War had been called less than twelve hours before much to the shock of everyone. It was lucky for Soulseeker that several of the N&NPackers had come into Toronto that weekend for a mini gathering. The rest had been notified via phone and most had already arrived at the theatre. No one was quite sure what to expect from this war other than some good old fashioned fun. "Soul, what do you want me to do with these?" Mary called out as she waved around a pair of purple and green alien shorts. Grinning, Soulseeker called back, "Put the box in my office for now." Boomer watched with a curious expression on her face as Casey walked past her carrying a case of green alien shaped water bottles. Turning to Carrie who was standing beside her she asked, "Uh, Carrie, what's with all the alien stuff? Are we planning for an invasion?" "It's a long story. It began at the first N&NPack MiniCon with the alien in a water filled dome that kinda resembles......" Carrie grinned as she began to tell Boomer about the alien adventures of the N&NPack. Standing beside Carrie and Boomer, Soulseeker and Marci shared knowing looks. ----------------------------------- Inside the theatre Chana was busy organizing the computer room set up. It was determined that this war the N&NPack needed a larger computer room so they converted a dressing room on the 3rd floor to a high tech chamber of cables and equipment. Last war's computer room was in the process of becoming Kevin's security and gadget room. Wendy and Angela were in the kitchens working on getting all the newly purchased groceries put away while Laura and Raelynne set up the sleeping areas. Elsewhere in the theatre Tammy was busy regaling Sherry, Korasia, Mysterie and Amanda with stories of past N&NPack war incidents as she played tour guide. ---------------------------------- Several hours later Soulseeker, Susan and Chana stood on the balcony overlooking the theatre. "Back again," commented Chana "It almost seems as if we never left," added Susan as she watched the N&NPackers below eating their dinner. Chana agreed, "Yeah." "Any idea what's the cause of this war?" Susan asked. "Not a klew," Soulseeker sighed, "I only hope it doesn't involve anything too chaotic." "War without chaos, perish the though," grinned Chana. "We'd better join the others and enjoy what little free time we have before 'first contact'," Soulseeker stated as she noticed Laila waving to them from below. Susan groaned, "Not more alien references." SOULSEEKER soulseeker@sprint.ca * soulseeker1@acmecity.com N&NPack Faction Leader-*-Lonely Hearts Co Faction Leader From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FU0z-00029m-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:57:49 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6676; Fri, 13 Aug 99 22:40:49 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8815; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:40:49 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:42:39 -0500 Reply-To: Kalira Isbell Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kalira Isbell Subject: WAR: HAREM: Don't I know you? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8a06a68aed714ef9de897cf575e771f1 title: WAR: HAREM: Don't I know you? by: KaliraRael Time: Friday 13th @ 10:30 am Randora used with permission KaliraRael limped back to Harem HQ, footsore and disgusted. Covered with muddy water (courtesy of a passing city bus), bedraggled would have been a kind description of her appearance. She had gone in search of a public phone to call the emergency number given in the Harem War notice, but only got a recording that the cellular customer could not be reached. Stomping up to "The Rattle-trap" (her name for the rental car), she gave it a good, hard, soul-satisfying kick in the fender just on general principal. Crossing her fingers, she went up the stairs to the front door and tried the knob. It *turned*!! At last, *something* had gone right! She pushed on the knob as she stepped forward and cracked her head on the door. She pushed on it again.......yep, stuck! Thinking back to her early Tae-Kwon-Do training, she applied the mathematical formula Power=mass(velocity squared). Taking a half step back, she threw her entire 155 lbs at the door at high speed. BLAM!! The door swung away at equally high speed. KaliraRael went flying into the room, tripped over a bag. and slid across the floor into a small table next to the base of the stairs. Landing with a crash that resembled four simultaneous strikes in a bowling ally, she moan once before everything went black. ************** BLAM!! Randora sat up, her heart leaping up into her throat. "What was that?", she wondered. CRASH!!!!!!!!!! Randora scrambled to her feet. "There's an intruder in the house!", she thought. She grabbed her purse, looking for something to use as a weapon. Quietly, Randora crept down the stairs. She reached the bottom and saw a form moving against the wall. KaliraRael slowly came to with a loud clanging between her ears. After taking inventory and deciding nothing was broken, she slowly climbed to her feet. Immediately she froze. Something sharp and cold was pressed up against her ribs in her back. "Don't move!", a voice ordered. "I know how to use this!!" Taking a deep breath and remembering that Tae-Kwon-Do training, KaliraRael whirled. Her elbow knocked her assailant's wrist to the side which she immediately grabbed and pulled with her right hand. Her left had shot forward toward the assailants face.......and jerked to halt, one half inch from the nose. "Randora??", she squeaked. "Yes." was the hesitant reply. "It's me, KaliraRael." KaliraRael looked at Randora's captured hand. A smile pulled at the edges of her lips. "A *nail file*?!!", she said, turning loose of the wrist. "It was all I could find in a hurry. I thought you had come to rob the place." "Rob **what**?", looking around. "Good question.", Randora said. "But, what happened to *you*? You look like a giant, muddy dust bunny!" "Don't ask!", KaliraRael groaned. "Just show me to my suite, and let me get some rest." Together we went up two flights of stairs, turned right and to the third door down. KaliraRael opened the door as she asked, "When is our party supposed to be aga........ohhhh!" She looked in at one of the most beautiful furniture ensemble she had ever seen. It fairly screamed "Luxury". Awed, she turned to Randora to ask if everyone's suite was furnished this well, and saw Randora with her face an odd shade of red shading toward magenta. Randora exploded! KaliraRael leaned into the blast and listened closely. She was always eager to increase her vocabulary. She wasn't sure what all the words meant, but she got the impression that: 1) the furniture belonged to Randora, 2) She was *most* displeased to find it in my suite, 3) an ambiguous "they" would shortly be employed as pinata stand-ins at Randora's next party, and 4) it would probably take all the wives in the Harem to move everything to her suite where it should have been in the first place. After a solid 15 minutes of invectives, Randora finally ran down. KaliraRael could only stand in awe. She had not repeated herself *once* in that entire tirade! She began to congradulate Randora on her inventiveness when a loud thudding noise came from downstairs. Someone was trying to get in. Randora and KaliraRael looked at each other for a minute, then grinned and headed downstairs to see who had arrived. From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FU7b-0002Oj-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:04:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8512; Fri, 13 Aug 99 23:02:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1344; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:01:46 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:03:33 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: She's A Doll (2/4) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 876a7673557353c4e55dccb5e55fe536 NA: She's A Doll (2/4) by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: HP Jules, Shele, Charl, Marl the Wonder Horse, Cousin Erik, Monica, Jan, Arymede, Nite, and KC. Time: Friday, August 13th, nighttime Location: Secret lairs and RP tunnels under CERK No lil' ratsies were harmed in the making of this fanfic. "This is so stinkin' unfair!" KC hadn't stopped grousing since Jules shooed the Addicts out of Madame Kiki's House of Naughtiness. "Yeah," Arymede commiserated hollowly. "You know, if you were really 'The God,' you wouldn't get stuck running errands for Jules." Ary was know as the current Resident Evil Freshman around the Shrine. She had a tradition of annoyance to live up to, manifested in cracks such as this one. "When I take over the world, my little pecan pie," KC retorted, "you'll be the first one I send to Ecuador to weave banana leaves." Ary was of the firm belief that, by the time KC conquered the world, she would be too old and senile to care that she was in Ecuador weaving banana leaves. She didn't respond to the threat, but she gave KC a really obnoxious, confident smile. "Hmph," KC hmphed. She chose to focus on her original complaint again. "This wouldn't be so extraordinarily stinky if Jules had dragged me away from being worshipped as a goddess to send me on an *important* mission." "Like the prison break-in?" Monica, a war newbie, asked innocently. Well, okay, this was Monica. Not-so innocently. "Yeah! Like the prison break-in! You're talking real action and derring-do there!" KC jabbed and poked the air in front of her. "Feats of naughtiness that go on your permanent record!" Monica, Nite and Ary sighed wistfully. This was the first war for all of them. They all dreamed of naughtiness on their permanent record. "Instead," KC continued, "we...the few, the proud, the incredibly witty..." "...the incredibly talkative during a covert operation," Jan inserted warningly. KC hopped. "Covert? I just don't get it. Why is this job so covert? How come we have to *sneak* into CERK? I could understand it if Jules had sent us on a panty-raid to Uncle's penthouse..." Nite waved her hand in KC's face. "Shh...I like that image!" All the Addicts paused for a moment of fantastic silence. Nite waved her hand again. "Okay. You can continue with your narrative now." "...But what does she send us to CERK for??? A box in the supply closet!" The other Addicts echoed her in thoughtful unison. "A box in the supply closet. Hmm..." Monica blinked out of her reverie and let out a cry of alarm. "Ack! Shele and Charl have left us behind!" Ary poked a finger at KC. "Thanks to your yammering." KC pantomimed a grand curtsey. "You're welcome." Then everyone began running through the tunnel to catch up. Sneaking into CERK, in theory, was supposed to be done using the Ratpacker tunnels. Over the past year, several earnest NA members had forayed into the winding tunnels in an effort to earn an Addict Safety Badge for their Nunkies Scout sashes. During these excursions, the Scouts had endeavored to make maps of their journeys to help cut down on the number of times they got lost. Shele and Charl, because they both grabbed the map first, both refusing to let go, were leading this expedition. Since they knew where they were going, all the other Addicts really didn't want to get separated. Running, running, jogging, trotting, walking...stopping. The Addicts didn't have a hard time catching up with Charl and Shele after all. The two women were about a hundred meters further along the corridor, neither moving, both looking accusingly at their equine accompaniment. "Cough it up, hoofers!" Shele sounded very perturbed. "Just because you have four legs, there's no reason you can't get grout duty!" Charl's voice was more soothing. She rubbed the animal's neck as she said, "Give it back, Marl. Do you impersonation of a cat, okay? Hairball! Hairball!" Shele turned grouchy eyes on Charl. "This wouldn't have happened..." She wriggled her fingers in Charl's direction as though imparting a voodoo hex, "...if you hadn't insisted on bringing your horse along! A horse in the Ratpacker Tunnels!" Shele threw both hands into the air, as if to pray to the Gods of Sewer Ceilings. "No good could come of it!!!" "This wouldn't have happened..." Charl countered, "...if you hadn't been such a control freak and had let go of the map. Marl though you were playing 'Keep Away,' and she decided to join in." The other Addicts formed a concerned semi-circle around Charl, Shele, and Marl, the Wonder Horse. "Do we want to know what happened?" Monica asked, her forehead wrinkling with a panicky frown. She had a sneaking suspicion that she didn't want to know. Shele gestured toward Charl with her thumb. "Her horse ate the map." "You made Marl think it was funny!" "Well, ha-ha," Shele drawled. "We're lost, we'll probably starve to death, but at least the horse has a sense of humor." KC brightened and turned toward Marl. "Say...have you heard the one about the gambler, the nun, and the radio? A gambler and a nun are sharing a hot tub..." Marl let out a horsey-burp. KC grimaced at the resulting cloud of horsey-breath. "O- kay...I'll take that as a 'yes.'" Nite shivered in fear. "We aren't really going to starve to death, are we? This is my first war. I don't want to screw up. Wasting away in a dark, damp tunnel sounds suspiciously like screwing up." "Don't worry," Jan said in consolation. "No one starves to death in a war. That's too permanent. It's more likely we'll end up hungry, dirty and quoting State of the Union addresses." "Eeehhhyyywww!!!" the newbies squealed. "Hey!" Charl intervened on a positive note. "These things have a way of working out. If we keep walking along this tunnel, chances are we'll come across something interesting that might help us. There's always a chance of Fanfic Fairy intervention." "I don't know," Shele said. "Has anyone else noticed how petulant the Fanfic Fairies have been lately?" "You mean, petulant like KC?" Ary asked, spreading some more Freshman Evil. "Why, I oughta..." Ary whooped, and KC proceeded to chase her down the tunnel. Shrugging, the rest of the group strolled after them. ************************************************************************ Cousin Erik surveyed his lair with displeasure. It had been some time, almost two years, since L'Phantom's last visit to the chambers deep below the CERK radio station. The sewer tunnels and grottoes, though naturally dark and dank, displayed an added decay and stench that was less than welcome. It rather sabotaged the atmosphere, once carefully manicured. Erik briefly raised a hand to his face, adjusting his white half-mask, as though restoring order to this theatrical conceit would also render his lair to its former glory. Skittering sounds drew his attention. Yes, there were other creatures of the night who shared the shadowy hollows Erik called home, but there was almost an unspoken agreement among them, as close as one could achieve with things that scratched and rooted in the murky filth on their bellies: they kept out of his sight, and Erik kept from flambeing the entire lot of them with a very large flamethrower. Apparently his prolonged absence has tested the boundaries of this bond. Erik had to physically turn to search the darkness for the source of the noises. One drawback to wearing a mask - even a half-one - was that it hindered peripheral vision. There was one swift flash of pink, then another. Startled, Cousin Erik ran forward, crouched slightly, then leaned into a bend in the tunnel for a closer study. Several moments of tense silence passed. Suddenly, Erik found himself swarmed by a squealing mass of glowing pink rats! The force of their exodus knocked him flat on his back, and he raised his hands to shield the uncovered half of his face from the onslaught of tiny pink feet and swishing tails. The squeaking became louder, followed the jingle-jangle of satchels filled with trinkets, and the bellow of a bassett hound. Erik lifted his head to a sight that filled him with horror and rage. His lair had been overtaken by... "RATPACKERS!" he roared, his words echoing through the corridors. "Miserable, Mercenary vermin!" He jumped to his feet to give them chase. The Ratpackers were highly skilled at running away, but Erik managed to stay at their heels for some distance. There came a turn in the sewer ledge, however, and by the time Erik veered right, the intruders to his domain had vanished from sight. Only slightly mollified, he searched the walls. It took little effort to discover a rough hole about six feet square broken into the sewer line. Erik paused, tossing to the ground a renegade glowing pink rodent that had clung onto his shoulder during his pursuit of the Ratpackers. He then stepped into this more primitive corridor, curiously following the trail. His eyes were already accustomed to the darkness, but since this was new terrain, he kept a close account of his direction. There was the sound of pounding feet drawing closer. Up ahead, Erik noticed that the tunnel intersected another. He moved to the center of the cross-hair, then slowly turned to inspect each direction. Perhaps, had the mask not impaired the peripheral vision to his left, Erik would have been able to get out of the way in time. As it happened, by the time he discovered the two women barreling blindly down the west corridor towards him, it was much too late to do anything but note that they didn't *look* like Ratpackers. In the next instant, the one wearing a silver toga ran into him full force, knocking them both to the ground in an anarchic tackle. He saw stars and more pink rats. (Apparently, there had been more clinging to him than the one on his shoulder.) It took a minute to re-orient himself because the toga-clad woman now draped on top of him appeared to be unconscious, or at least too woozy to move herself. He shifted her slightly to the side, not because the dead weight was uncomfortable, but because her head and long reddish brown hair were blocking his view of the rest of his surroundings. Vision cleared, the other woman came into view. This one had long blonde hair, and, rather than a toga, wore a primary red jumpsuit akin to the uniform of a janitor or an astronaut trainee. She was crouched on her knees to the side, peering at him with almost Machiavellian interest. Erik could palpably see the thought flash through her head. Her mouth spread into a grin of grinchly intensity, her teeth flashed, then she bellowed, "HEY GU-UYS!!! ARY FOUND SOMETHING INTERESTING!!!" ********************************************************************* End of Part Two *************************************************************************** Bonnie Rutledge........Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FUKy-0002tv-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:18:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7047; Fri, 13 Aug 99 23:16:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3692; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:16:21 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:17:23 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: She's A Doll (3/4) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 17b68edf6a080ed42b06a6c5192375c0 NA: She's A Doll (3/4) by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Shele, Charl, Marl the Wonder Horse, Cousin Erik, Monica, Jan, Arymede, Nite, and KC Time: Friday, August 13th, nighttime Location: RP tunnels under CERK No Freshmen were harmed in the making of this fanfic. KC, accustomed to the gentleness of wrestling with her brothers at home, heaved the prone Ary off of the mysterious stranger, then poked her mercilessly. "Yo! Evil Freshman! You okay?" Ary sat up begrudgingly, rubbing her temple. "Yep," she mumbled. KC pouted. "Bummer." She elbowed Ary, then nodded at their company. "Look-ee what you trampled." Ary had begun to blink rapidly. It probably was a case of dust in her contacts, rather than a freak possession by the spirit of Vachon. Once she caught sight of the stranger she'd run down, now methodically climbing to his feet and brushing any stray dirt or pink rats off his person, her blinking stopped. She stared at him, appearing possessed by a strong urge to say something, some observation of deep and profound import. Instead, Ary came out with, "You're a man." KC rolled her eyes as if to groan, "Freshmen! You can't take them anywhere!" She hopped to her feet, energetically moving closer to said male. "Yes, my little bagel bite! Even more notable, he's a man in a mask!" Having concluded these new interlopers were not Ratpackers, but some kind of more strange and fascinating creatures, Erik executed a formal bow. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Cousin Erik. Some know me as L'Phantom." "That explains the mask," KC nodded cheerfully. By this point, the rest of the Addicts and Marl, the Wonder Horse, had caught up to their voices. Shele studied Erik sternly, then pointed a thumb at him while she looked KC's direction. "Who's this character?" "He's a *Cousin,*" KC said broadly. *wink-wink* *nudge-nudge* "Ohhhhh," the Addicts said in unison. "Cousin Erik, to be precise," the object of their interest inserted. "What I would like to know is...who are *you?*" "I am KC!" she announced, propping her hands on either hip to emphasize her mightiness. "Join my band of trusty followers! Why? Because I am KC!" Erik studied the panorama of faces in various stages of toleration at KC's outburst. The horse yawned. "Trusty followers?" he repeated doubtfully. Shele waved a hand. "Don't mind her. KC's always practicing to be a future world dictator. It's her hobby." Now Shele's demeanor became more conspiratorial. "It's funny you should mention you're a Cousin. We're practically Cousins ourselves." "Kissing Cousins!" KC piped in. Erik touched one palm to the forehead of his mask. "Of course! I should have realized from the togas! You're those women obsessed with LaCroix!" Jan stepped forward and introduced herself. Not only was she wearing a toga, she sported an eye-popping silver breastplate as well. "We call ourselves Nunkies Anonymous or Nunkies Addicts. Devoted to LaCroix, yet terrible with directions. Are you lost, too?" Erik had to laugh at that suggestion. "Hardly. These tunnels are part of my lair." A pause. "Well, almost my lair. We're near enough." Charl extended an arm for a handshake. "I'm Charl, this is my map-eating horse, Marl. What do you mean by 'almost your lair'?" It took Erik a moment to respond. It had been a long time since he'd been introduced to a horse in a sewer. "I suppose you realize these tunnels aren't exactly man-made. I had the unpleasant misfortune of discovering a band of Ratpackers and their glowing, pink, rodent accomplices squatting in my subterranean home away from home. I chased then into this corridor, where I had the more pleasant experience of running into...?" He turned, his face strangely expressive for a man in a mask, prompting Ary to add her name to the narrative. The Evil Freshman knew she was supposed to finish his sentence with an important bit of information. Instead, she said, "Me." An ever-explanatory word. Shele squinted at the Addict still sitting against the hard-packed dirt wall. "Did she hit her head?" "Her name is Arymede," Charl tossed in by way of explanation. KC, meanwhile, focused in on the one piece of the puzzle that best suited her purposes. "Ratpackers infested your place, huh? That's a crying shame." She began to sniffle rather unconvincingly. The other veteran addicts joined in on the sympathy, while the newbies exchanged confused glances. "Tough break." "I feel your pain." "Wouldn't want to be in your shoes." "What are they talking about?" Monica finally asked. "Exactly!" Erik agreed, pointing in her direction. "What's your name?" "Monica." "To echo Monica," Cousin Erik repeated. "What are you talking about? Didn't you hear me? I chased those Ratpackers off!" Shele shook her head, tsking, then patted Erik consolingly on the shoulder. "I hate to tell you this, but, for every Ratpacker you see, there's a dozen still hidden in the woodwork." "I live in the sewers under CERK," Erik pointed out. "There's no woodwork." "She was speaking metaphorically," Charl explained. "The point is, if you have Ratpackers tunneling around, the only thing left to do is find a new hangout." Monica was still confused by her NA elders. "But the Shrine has -" Shele cut off her sentence by clapping a palm over Monica's mouth. "Monica! How clever of you to think of it! Now don't tire yourself out by speaking so much," she ordered before taking her hand away from the newbie's mouth. "Why don't you wander over to where KC's chatting with Nite and Ary? Hmm?" Once Monica stumbled off, Shele extended her arms at either side, suddenly the picture of a welcoming hostess. Well, maybe a game show host. "I'm ashamed I didn't think of it myself. Our headquarters, the Shrine to Nunkies has more than enough room if you'd like to relocate there. I'm sure you'll find the level of peace and quiet quite unlike anything you've ever experienced." "That's an intriguing offer," Erik said, "but, even though I am a Cousin, I really tend to be more of a loner." While Erik was politely declining Shele's invite to join NA, KC had the newbies huddled around her, issuing them urgently whispered commands like a quarterback priest. "Here's the deal: Cousin Erik knows the way from here to CERK. We need to get to CERK and fetch Jules' stinkin' box! Therefore, Erik must be lured into our web of naughtiness. You, newbies, have the honor of pleasing me by convincing him to join us. Do a good job, and there's an Alluring Badge in it for you!" Monica, Ary and Nite exchanged impressed looks. Nunkies Scouts were easily swayed with promises of badges. KC pushed back from the huddle, clapped her hands together, then pointed dictatorially toward Cousin Erik. "Serve me! Be alluring!" The trio scampered and sashayed toward the Cousin, who was shaking his head after Shele repeated her offer. "No, really. I don't think -" "Oh, no!" Nite exclaimed, draping her arms around Erik's shoulders from the right. "You aren't turning us down, are you?" Monica joined in with some draping of her own, this time from the left. "It would be *so* nice to have a man around the Shrine for a change." Ary took position in front of the Cousin, fluttering her eyelashes plaintively (it was either that, or she was having trouble with her contacts again). "We don't have anyone to fawn over...It's so long between Nunkies' visits." "Well...there *is* Louis," Monica admitted sotto-voce. Nite sniffed at the very idea. "The French-Canadian majordomo!" "Louis is the hired help," Ary elaborated for Erik's benefit. "You can't just fawn over an employee. It ruins the whole dynamic." "But you gotta love his Belgian waffles!" KC called merrily. Erik knew better than to trust the words of these women completely, no matter how alluring they were. He also knew that his role of Cousinly loner lacked in certain things, namely a Shrine full of women in mini-togas. It was a judgment call. "When you put it like that, how can I refuse?" The Addicts cheered and there were effusive hugs. Marl nickered enthusiastically. Erik raised one hand breaking into the celebration. "There's one thing I can't stand, though." "What?" Shele asked. "None of the rooms in the Shrine are pink, are they?" All of the Addicts shook their heads uniformly, vowing, "Absolutely not!" Shele put an arm around Erik's shoulder, drawing his attention away from the group. "Before we head back to HQ, we've got a teensy-weensy errand at the station..." ******************************************************************* End of Part Three *************************************************************************** Bonnie Rutledge........Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FUdw-0003Vl-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:38:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4783; Fri, 13 Aug 99 23:35:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4500; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:35:58 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:27:59 -0700 Reply-To: "Nancy A. Taylor" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knighties on Parade (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 20046fb97d3a65495ce8d48bc392d269 Posting for Jenn, as she isn't able to tonight.... Title: Knighties on Parade Time: Just before the Raven Party Place: The loft and the Raven By: Jenn Mendenhall Nick, Adriana and Chris (the Knightie Nurse) used with permission. "Thanks Nick, I'll take good care of er" Jenn said as the keys to the Caddy fell into her hand. "Remember, not one scratch." Nick replied with concerned undertones. "Got it, one scratch and I'm demoted from co-leadership," Jenn replied in a matter of fact sort of way. She was dressed and ready to party at the Raven. She had picked up this great little red dress since the last war and couldn't wait to try it out at the Raven. "Chris! Adriana! Let's go! I've got the keys!" Suddenly, Chris was at her side dressed in an exotic little number. It was flowing purple with gold trim. Then, Adriana nervously approached her Knightie friends. "Are we ready to party?" The three headed to the Caddy and made their way to the Raven. As they entered the building, they were stunned by what they saw. Jenn Mendenhall Knightie Co-Leader From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FUmI-0003qd-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:46:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8799; Fri, 13 Aug 99 23:44:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4842; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:44:34 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:46:20 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: She's A Doll (4/4) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 60a2013df47ee3460ab904cb44bcdb96 Sorry about the condition of some of the previous posts, folks. New computer = new headaches NA: She's A Doll (4/4) by Bonnie Rutledge Monologue by Niteflyer Starring: Bons, Shele, Charl, Marl the Wonder Horse, Cousin Erik, Monica, Jan, Arymede, Nite, and KC Cousine Moses and CERK used with permission Time: Friday, August 13th, nighttime Location: CERK No velociraptors were harmed in the making of this fanfic. Finally, after many trials, tribulations and much snappy dialogue, the Addicts (plus their new recruit, Cousin Erik) reached their goal. It was their summit, their Mecca, their grail, their own private Idaho... CERK's supply closet. "What are we looking for again?" Erik asked. "Jules said it was a box," Jan described, holding her palm straight, about a foot apart. "About this wide." She rotated her hands 45 degrees. "About this high. 'T. GoB' is written in marker on the side." KC was already rummaging through the closet's contents. "Hmm.... Shiney, pretty staples..." She picked up a stack of boxes and handed them to Monica. "Here...Serve me!" "Stop that!" Shele smacked KC's hand. "We're only supposed to get the box!" "But this stuff might come in handy during the war!" KC protested as she hugged the Cousins' supply of Handi-Wipes. "When are the Cousins going to use these anyway?" She passed all the wetnaps to Nite, then hefted a huge carton of pink highlighters. "Or these?" "We aren't going to use those, either," Erik said with absolute certainty. "But you never know," KC argued as she dumped the markers on Ary, "who might like a nice set of pink markers." "For the record," Erik stated, "I will never be that person. I will never like a nice set of pink markers." "How about these nice parchment envelopes?" KC asked waggling her eyebrows. Having run out of newbies, KC passed this smaller container to Marl, who promptly started to chew up the paper. "Stop that!" Charl protested, hurriedly snatching the parchment envelopes away from her horse. "Ding-dong!" Shele announced. KC turned toward her. "You talkin' to me?" Shele pointed to the top shelf. "There's the box." Sure enough, there was a plain brown cardboard container with 'T. GoB' printed in large black letters on the side. Erik gave KC a boost, and she quickly took the box into custody. "What's inside?" Erik asked. It seemed a natural question. "Uh-oh," Jan sighed, recognizing the naughty glint growing in KC's eyes. "Jules said we weren't supposed to open it," Nite pointed out. "We're supposed to bring it directly back to her at the Shrine." "Ooh!" KC exclaimed. "Maybe it's her bowling ball!" She shook the box, causing a soft, whooshy vinyl sound. "Nah, not heavy enough." KC's naughtiness was catching, and Shele was infected. "Say... we went to too much trouble to fetch this box without getting a single peek inside. We've earned it!" "And we aren't going to earn grout duty for that single peek?" Ary sounded very doubtful. "Come to think of it," Shele continued to reason with a snap of her fingers, "we'd be doing Her High Priestessness a service. It looks like this box has been up on that shelf a while. It's our Addict duty to make sure whatever's inside isn't damaged." "Oh, brother," Jan groaned. They were totally destined for grout detail. Erik took the debate out of their hands, literally. Seizing the 'T. GoB' box from KC, he set it down on the now-empty supply closet shelf. He whisked off the box's lid, frowned at the revealed contents, then frowned at the Addicts behind him. "What does your High Priestess want with an inflatable doll?" KC and Shele coughed and sputtered. Jan stepped forward, looking around Erik's shoulder and into the box. "What?!" She gingerly picked up the doll, unfurling the plastic to dangle for a full-length inspection. Ary's thoughts were filled with a myriad of explanations, questions and interesting descriptive prose. She really felt this was a moment when she should share some illuminating observation. Instead, Ary said, "It's a woman." "Hmm..." Charl said as she tapped her chin thoughtfully. "The mini-dress that doll's wearing looks familiar." "You're right," Jan agreed. "And these non-sensible shoes..." "Smoking frijoles!!!" KC shouted. "It's Bons!" "Who's 'Bons'?" Nite asked, completely flummoxed. "Maybe this is some weird newbie initiation ritual," Monica reasoned. "Quick! Blow her up!" Shele yelled. KC looked from side-to-side, then under the horse. "I don't have any dynamite!" "No! Not that kind of blow up! This kind!" Shele began to make puffing noises. KC peered at her in wonder. "I didn't know you were asthmatic." "Aw, shaddup!" Shele took the doll from Jan and located its air valve. A split second before lips touched plastic, Shele froze. "On second thought, maybe Bons won't appreciate it if I give her a blo -" Jan held out a warning finger. "Don't say it. The world isn't ready for that joke." "Especially North Carolina," KC added. "Never fear," she continued, producing something that looked suspiciously like a hair dryer from one of her jumpsuit pockets, "I have my zappy whatchamacallit!" She dug in another pocket. "With attachments!" After a few minutes of hooking the inflatable Bons up to the zappy whatchamacallit with attachments, Charl made an observation. "KC, are you sure it's wise to be filling her with hot air?" Shele, Jan and KC all exchanged knowing looks. "I'll switch it down to 'Cool,'" KC volunteered. After a few seconds, the doll suddenly screeched and pulled away. Clutching the back of her neck, Bonnie exclaimed, "That tickles!" She tucked her air valve closed, then smoothed the wrinkled folds of her mini-dress. She paused with her hands on her hips. "I feel a little bloated," she commented, then popped her air valve open once more. There was a tiny whistle of escaping air, then the now-satisfied Bons popped her valve shut once more. "That's much better!" "Uh, Bons?" KC asked in a small voice. "Since when are you an inflatable doll?" Bonnie let out a growl. "Since the end of the last war. Jules and Laur just, all of the sudden, deflated me! Then Jules stuck me in that box!" Her fingers clenched murderously. "Which would have been very peaceful, only, they threw in that *damn* beeper that hasn't stopped sounding for the past fourteen months!" Bons took a private moment to slap at her temple. "Constant...ringing...in...my...head!" Erik checked the box and picked up a small yellow clip-on that matched Bonnie's dress. "You mean this beeper?" "Aaaahhh!" Bons took it from him, squeezing the beeper with both hands as though she wanted to strangle it. "Hate!...Must...destroy... beeper!" Bons instantly snapped out of her mangling rage, piercing the source of her cursed beeper with A Look. "I don't know you." She scanned her audience. She pointed at Ary. "Or you." At Monica. "Or you." At Nite. "Or you." Her gaze centered on the horse. "But I know *you.*" Marl nodded and hooved the carpeted hall. Bons nodded too. "Uh-huh." Glares at Charl, Jan, Shele and KC followed. "I know all of you. I know very well that Jules would have told all of *you* to NOT OPEN THE BOX YOU PICKED UP AT CERK!!!!" "See," Jan observed, "this is the part where we get grout duty." KC shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is." "It was a secret!" Bonnie voice raised to a near-whine. "I don't want just anybody knowing they can deflate me! It's bad enough the Grand High Poobah has that information, but *you two*!" Bons pointed one index finger at KC, the other at Shele. "You're trouble-making stinkers!" KC grinned, taking Bonnie's words as a compliment. Shele, on the other hand, held her nose. "I'd watch who I call a stinker, Miss I-Haven't-Bathed-In-Over-A-Year." "Hey!" Monica piped in. "If it means we won't get grout duty, I'm all for not telling anybody!" "You bet you won't be telling anyone, because if anyone *does* find out, I'll know you snitched! And if you snitch, you *will* be horribly punished!" Monica gulped. "Worse than grout duty?!" "Much worse," Bonnie promised. "What could be worse?" Nite asked fearfully. "Oh, I'll think of something." Charl protested. "The Mercenary Mob Boss could tell just as soon as us! Why should we catch hell for her blabbing?" Bons held up her beeper. "Have I mentioned the extreme state of bitchiness that results from over twelve months of non-stop beep-beep-beeping??" She shook the little yellow console emphatically. "I should have bought a vibrating one - at least that might have been fun." Suddenly, the hall erupted into screams. "Look! A dinosaur!" Nite shrieked, then tore down the station corridor in the opposite direction. "Help!" Monica followed. "It's a velociraptor!!" Ary yelped, already out of sight. Everyone else turned calmly to find Cousine Moses, a large, but perfectly non-carnivorous iguana, staring at them with disapproval. Bons sighed. "Ah, newbies. Their psyches are so fragile." She turned to examine the stranger in the half-mask once more. "Obviously this isn't your first war, so what's your story?" "I'm Cousin Erik. I ran into the Addicts underground, and since my lair is overrun with Ratpackers, they convinced me to join your group. Shele said I'd find 'the level of peace and quiet quite unlike anything I've ever experienced.'" Bonnie laughed, and gave Shele a knowing look. "Oh, did she? No doubt you figured out that was a euphemism for a state of sheer anarchy, yet you decided to come anyway." "Yes." "Well, I admire your chutzpah! You'll fit right in...except for the 'being the only guy' part." She turned to the other Addicts. "Now let's go corral the runaways and get out of here!" *********************************************************************** Nite ducked into a vacant room, slammed the door behind her with her rear, then dropped the stack of Handi-Wipes containers she was still toting in service to KC on the nearest table. Collapsing into the lone chair in the room with relief, Nite released a deep breath. This war thing was filled with strange comings and goings, and she wasn't sure if she would ever get the hang of it. Gradually, Nite relaxed and began to take note of her surroundings. The table was covered with a multitude of switches, and there was an adjustable microphone just to her right. Nite thought. The Nightcrawler's sound booth! Nite looked surreptitiously from side to side, but the room was still empty. She tested a few of the controls, preening as the 'On Air' light began to glow. This was her moment, the kind she joined the war effort for. She cleared her throat and... "Napalm, or another quick, suitable death which coaxes one to sleep. Permanent, dark sleep: it sounds so free, so wonderful. You fear it, you feed upon it. Day after day your cares come closer to the irony of life. Does it not strike you as unusual that a creature so long over-shadowed maintains such intelligence? Grieve not, my child, mortality is only the blink of an eye and existence a pedestal on which to stand. But do ask yourself, gentle listener, is it life you seek, or something a bit more.....satisfying! As always, I am...The Nightcrawler!" The door to the sound booth burst open. "Niteflyer!!!" the team of Addicts shouted, Ary and Monica once more part of their number. Nite blushed, then shut off the microphone. "I just couldn't resist!" "It was great, really," Bons said, pulling Nite out of the chair, picking up the wetnap boxes, tossing them to KC, then pushing Nite into the hallway ahead of her. "It's just the whole concept of sneaking into a radio station loses some of it poignancy when you broadcast to the entire listening audience that you're here." Nite appeared remorseful. "Oh. That kind of slipped my mind." "It was still a good monologue. Now let's get out of here!" ****************************************************************** Fin for now Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FUmi-00022s-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:47:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7139; Fri, 13 Aug 99 23:44:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4882; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:44:59 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:45:24 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Williams Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Williams Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Traveling Ferrets (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e792c33439629d915ce788eba1534e47 Title: Cousins LCL: Traveling Ferrets (1/1) Date: Friday, August 13th Time: 8am Eastern Time By Arletta Asbury and Brandi Morgan "Ring....ring." "Hello," Brandi said and was surprised to hear Arletta's voice on the phone. "War? ... Uh, yeah I guess I can leave right away. Umm ... can I bring my Golden Retriever again and ... uhh ... a couple of ferrets. They might scare cats sometimes because they bounce at them but they're *really* harmless." Brandi could almost see the pained expression on her leader's face as she listened to Arletta's reply. "But if I have to leave them at home, it'll take time to find someone to feed them for me ... I CAN! Great. See ya soon." Brandi hung up the phone and addressed her pets, "How do you feel about a little trip up north?" ---------------------------------------- Title: Cousins LCL: Falling off the Ladder (1/1) Date: Friday, August 13 Time: later Friday afternoon By Annette Williams The flight to Toronto touched down on the runway and jolted Annette out of her slumber. Odd, she thought, the wheels touching the runway sounded just like the door of my office slamming shut behind my not so happy boss. Or was that the sound of a cousin falling off the corporate ladder. Annette laughed at herself drawing odd looks from a nearby passenger. "Welcome to Toronto Ontario Canada! announced the first officer, The local time is..." Annette pulled out the notes she'd jotted down on directions and her rental car confirmation number. Oh well, I'll worry about the job later, she thought to herself while gathering her things. From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FUwl-0002OI-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:57:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4839; Fri, 13 Aug 99 23:54:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5224; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:54:34 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:00:43 -0500 Reply-To: Chanda Keith Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chanda Keith Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Off to the War To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3396991b670d42d3918e8f1ecf58d11e Friday August 13th Midnight "I can't believe they're starting a war today. This has to be unlucky." I muttered as a struggled to balance myself with my cane while I tossed bags with various kitty supplies and food, skunk bedding, and a kitty treehouse into the van. "Well, your highness, are you ready to go?" I asked my black kitten Janette as I came back into the house to attempt to put her, her companion Nicky and Fifi the skunk into their carriers for the trip north. Janette sniffed and turned her head with an elegant twist to look at her elegant black leather kitty couch that was setting in a corner. "Janey, you never use that and it will take up too much room! Where am I going to put my clothes?!" "Yeah. Right. That's my problem." I muttered as a fumbled with the couch and started to drag it out. A little while later I was backing the van out of the driveway. It was filled with pet supplies. All I had managed to bring was a bag of books that was wedged under the middle seat, my purse that was stuffed under the passenger seat, and one small suitcase and makup bag that was wedged in the space between the passenger and driver's seats. Janette was curled up inside her maroon kitty carrier napping on a soft lambskin rug while Nicky bounced around the back seat as much as his leash would let him. Fifi was standing up in her carrier watching me eagerly. "Well, we're off." I said as I started towards the highway just as a pain shot up my leg. "We're off very, very slowly. I hope they don't expect us in Toronto any time soon." Chanda Keith ckeith@usit.net nicklovesjanette@hotmail.com Proud Ravenette and Immortal Beloved Our Dark Lady of Forever Knight http://www.usit.public.net/ckeith/Janette.html Propaganda-the statement of one view to the exclusion of all others. The purpose was not to enlighten but to emotionalize issues From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FUyr-0002S0-00; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:59:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8847; Fri, 13 Aug 99 23:56:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5447; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:56:23 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 20:53:16 -0700 Reply-To: Glennis Lyke Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Glennis Lyke Subject: WAR: NA: Nag, nag, nag (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 035222a471622f01e7f95740ad07ae00 Title: Nag Nag Nag By: Glennis and Patt Time: Friday evening Where: Golden Coast of California and Toronto, Canada Annie Raper used with permission. Two hours and three sets of asked for directions later, Glen arrived at the Jeweled Peach. Never mind that she'd mistakenly been asking where Peach Street was, rather than Queen Street. Heck, verbal directions had never been her thing--colors and form were. Since the dinner hour was now fading, but the restaurant was still open, Glennis decided to use the JP entrance, rather than go around back to the alley. This usually annoyed Cabon, but just this once she'd risk it. mo-ped safely tucked in the restaurant's alcove, between the newspaper stand and the candy vending machines, Glennis grabbed her bags and headed for the Shrine. As the California woman made her way through the rows of tables, coming ever closer to the private entry way which led into the Shrine, she began to hear a low whining sound. Closer still, she could identify the plaintive, high-pierced tones of Third Cousin Patt. Closer still, she began to make out words. "Darn it to possums, I forgot all about Annie! What time is it?" An unknown voice replied, "9:47." "And, how long does it take to get from here to TO airport?" the mature addict asked grievously. "About forty-five minutes, give or take some for traffic," another unknown voice offered. "Darn it all and shoot." Patt was stomping around the main altar room when Glennis finally entered. Glen took a quick look around, noting drop clothes and little stacks of building supplies scattered throughout the room. Patt spied Glennis and pointed at her. "You!" "Me?!" Glennis dropped her bags, prepared to run. Patt advanced. "How did you get here? Did you drive? Is your engine still warm?" "Well, yes," Glen said. "Good. Hop back into your wheels and go pick up Annie at the airport. Knowing the NunkMommy, she'll be standing at the exit door, tapping her foot when you arrive. Here's her gate." Patt shoved a piece of paper with a hand-written note into Glennis' hand. "Just tell her that the construction slowed you down getting there." "But . . ." Patt turned feverish eyes on Glennis. "Go." Glennis turned and fled. She hopped back onto the mo-ped and took off for the airport as fast as the little putt-putt would carry her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Two hours and four gas stations (one for gas and three for directions) later, Glennis pulled up in front of the unloading area of Mid-Continent Airlines. As expected, a rather dire looking NunkMommy was standing at the curb, tapping her toe and looking around for someone to take her irk out on. As Glennis drove up, a slow, deliberately cruel smile spread across the NunkMommy's face, but was quickly replaced by a sweet smile. "How nice that I was remembered," Annie said succinctly. "I imagine Patt will be pulling up in the limo momentarily. Got caught in traffic, I presume? "Limo?" Annie's eyes narrowed, then swept across the mo-ped. "She sent you to pick me up . . . on *that*?" Glennis nodded. Annie stood still for a moment, then sighed heavily. With stoic grace, she affixed her bags to the luggage carrier, climbed aboard the back of the mo-ped and positioned her dress carefully. "Nice frock," Glennis commented as she gunned the cycle to life. "I was entertaining when Patt's frantic call came through," Annie said. "Let's make this a quick trip, shall we? I really don't care to have anyone I know see me on this contraption." "Will do," Glen nodded. "Annie?" "Yes, Glennis." "Errrr . . . do you know how to get to the Shrine? ************************ End From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FV0Z-0002Uw-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:01:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7216; Fri, 13 Aug 99 23:59:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5910; Fri, 13 Aug 1999 23:59:18 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:00:58 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: WAR: Enforcers: Whipped up with the Pretty Stick. (1/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f4815a5b1d7f684d799e5783487465e1 Place: Enforcer Steve's Car parked outside an unknown location, Toronto. Time: Evening 10 or 11 ish Written By: Enid Rodriguez (Enforcer, Twilight Knightie, Harem Wife # 28) Steve used with permission Enid sat with her arms folded in the passenger side of Steve's car. "I don't think he's coming." Enid sighed, checking her silver watch. "Let's give it another 20 minutes or so, OK?" Steve respond, looking through a brand new pair of night vision goggles. Enid sighed again, completely annoyed. "You said that an hours ago Steve!" Steve didn't answer. "Geez, you really know how to treat a lady." She muttered, then suddenly she slapped the dashboard. The noise made Steve jump. "What?!" Steve asked. Enid smiled slightly, "Steve, I want to go dancing." Steve gave Enid a confused look, "Dancing?" Enid's smile became larger. "Pop the trunk." "Pop the trunk?" Steve questioned. "Just do it!" She shrilled, making Steve giggle uncomfortably. Enid got out of the car and pulled a something out of the trunk. "I'll be right back. Stay in the car." Steve nodded in agreement. "Whatever's clever...just don't take too long. Enid nodded back, then shuffled off into a nearby woodland area. Steve wasn't very patient, the next 10 minutes felt like forever and a night. He flipped through the radio stations, refolded his road maps. Finally there was a knock on the door, It was Enid returning from her little trip. "Had to use to little enforcer's room?" He teased with a scoff. It took Steve about two seconds to realize that Enid had completely changed her clothes. She was wearing a simple, strapless emerald-colored gown, with shoes and purse to match. "Well,?" Enid asked. Steve stayed quiet, not sure what she expected him to say. "I think I'll teach the other factions how to salsa." Enid playfully said applying her lipstick. From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FVgq-0001j5-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:45:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9117; Sat, 14 Aug 99 00:43:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9126; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:43:01 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:45:27 -0700 Reply-To: Liz the Lucky Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Liz the Lucky Subject: WAR: Nothers: A Nother Group Heads for the Party To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0dae7aef79c962ca34a13dc4cc5acbe3 Title: A Nother Group Heads for the Party Place: Nother's Chateau and the Raven Time: Friday the 13th, about 9 or 10 or so. Written by: Liz the Lucky, Kat and Fleurette "Kat? You dressed?" Liz yelled into the adjoining room. "Almost," Kat replied. "I just gotta put my long sleeved shirt on and tie my boots, but I'm clothed enough that you can come in if you want." "Need any help," Liz offered, entering the room. "You realize we're dressed the same?" Kat looked at Liz, and her black velvet broomstick skirt and blue silk shirt, and then her own black jeans and blue T, and grinned. "You know what they say about great minds, and all that." "Sure you don't want any help?" Liz again offered. "No, I'm all done," Kat answered, tying her last boot. "Shall we, then?" Liz offered Kat her arm. "Let's," Kat answered, taking it. The two left the room, meeting up with the (N)others in the front room. JJ was already there, in black jeans, a green velvet shirt and slightly high heels, as was Fleurette's mother in black dress slacks, a white silk blouse, and flats. "Where's Fleurette?" Liz asked. "Try her room," Mom suggested. At that moment, Fleurette's voice rang out from the direction of her suite. "NightDancer!!! Help!" she called out. "Yep. She's in her room," NightDancer quipped as she headed towards the suite. NightDancer found Fleurette shuffling through her closet. "Can't figure out what to wear?" she guessed. "No," Fleurette replied with sarcasm dripping heavily form the word. "I have lots of clothes to wear. It's just that most of them don't fit!" "Well," NightDancer pulled a navy ankle length dress out of the closet. "How about this? It looks loose enough." Fleurette stared at the dress thoughtfully. She'd packed it knowing that she might have need of bigger clothing, but had hoped that wouldn't be for another week or so. She sighed. Being pregnant was supposed to be a great joy. She was finding, however, that it was also a great pain. Fleurette reluctantly took the dress from her friend. As she did, she suddenly remembered the blue cameo necklace and earrings her husband had given her last year. She hadn't worn them yet, but they would be perfect for the Raven party. "You know," she said to NightDancer. "This dress just might work after all." "Great," NightDancer smiled. "I'll leave you to get dressed, then." That said, NightDancer left the room. After NightDancer closed the door, Fleurette hurriedly dressed and fixed her hair and make-up. There was a small pause, while she thought she heard some scuffling noises coming out of her closet, but she put it down to pregnancy paranoia. The last thing she did was put on the necklace and earrings before rushing out to meet her awaiting friends. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+===+=+=+ The five arrived outside the Raven. "Now what?" Fleurette asked. "Um, we go in?" Kat suggested. Which they did. Much to their dismay, it turned out that none of the other party-goers were people they knew. There were some they recognized, such as Vachon and LaCroix, but not where they go easily go up and chat. Especially as shy as some of them were. Of course, Fleurette wasn't too shy to go up to LaCroix, but considering she had left the NA for the Nothers, she decided that wasn't too good of an idea. "So what do we do now?" JJ asked. "Drink?" Mom suggested. "Why not," Liz agreed. Which they did. Ten minutes later, they were again bored. Worse, Liz was apparently having problems dealing with the crowd and was hanging on tightly to Kat's hand. "What if," Fleurette mused, "we get Liz to set off the sprinklers? That might be fun." "It's an idea," Liz agreed after running the idea through her head. "What would I get if I did?" "We're *already* paying you room and board!" Fleurette exclaimed, wracking her brain for the proper payment. "I could give you that pair of jeans Stan autographed for me?" she suggested. While Liz's face lit up, NightDancer began to protest. "No, no, no!" Liz cut her off. To Fleurette, she said, "I accept! Let's go find those sprinklers!" "I would not do that, if I were you, cheries," A voice behind them said. Everyone jumped, turning to the speaker. "Um, hi Janette," Fleurette said. "We weren't really thinking of doing it, honest." "Of course not," Janette smiled. The Nothers looked at each other, trying to decide what to say to the former vampire. "Hey, Kat, isn't that Cindy Brewer just coming in the door with the FoDs?" Liz noted. "Yeah, it is," Kat agreed. "Why don't we go say hi?" The two grabbed the others and quickly left. Not that the others were making much of an objection..... THE END Hugs and Kisses, Liz the Lucky FoD Merc luckyliz@mindspring.com Nanette Nother http://www.mindspring.com/~luckyliz From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FVkT-0005jj-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:48:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7485; Sat, 14 Aug 99 00:46:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9321; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:46:41 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 18:21:02 +0200 Reply-To: kadira@GMX.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kadira Kerkhoff Subject: WAR: Enforcers: You've got Mail (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 683693b4e59798048d32099af8b5f6a2 You've got Mail 1/1 Two days ago, Kadira arrived in Toronto, and despite the rumors about an upcoming war, nothing remarkable happened anymore. An so she already played with the thought of taking her leave, of going back to her normal location in Barcelona, as she suddenly heard: 'You've got Mail'. "Oh my, what could this be again", Kadira thought only mildly interest, while going to her computer. 'Meeting in the HeadQuarter, come in uniform, and take your equipment with you. And hurry, we are already waiting for you! The General In Command' "Finally something is happening", Kadira thought, while collecting her things together and making her way to the door. To her luck she got a hotel room not far away from the HeadQuarter and so arrived only 10 minutes later. Entering the conference room, she got with meaningful glances from her fellow Enforcers. "Sir", she greeted respectful her boss. "I am glad you could come. It has happened. The war had begun.", the man in black informed her firmly. "Finally the waiting has come to an end", she said in a low voice, before she took her place on the conference table ... -- Sent through Global Message Exchange - http://www.gmx.net From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FW5z-0006O8-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 01:11:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9196; Sat, 14 Aug 99 01:09:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0696; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 01:09:00 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:10:50 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: Scales of Justice (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2d8dd2a68f73894b5a02e998ee9587d9 NA: Scales of Justice (1/2) By Dragon Sallie & Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Dragon Sallie, RevSam, Sukh, MacCousin Heather, and Glennis Nick Knight appears with the permission of the Knighties A few days before anything interesting happens to Nick... "Zed. Zed! Come back here, drat you!" The puppy with the tesserect remote in its mouth was of too tender months to use stronger language on. He laughed at the denim and black T-shirt clad human female trotting after him and yelling his name. Unfortunately, it was difficult to pick up speed with the ornate sword she was carrying strapped to her back. It was about this time that a greenish Caddy drove past. The driver was musing on something other than the present, but the shine of metal passing under a streetlight caught his attention. He parked the Caddy and, taking a quick scan of the area, which was deserted except for the small black dog and the woman chasing it, took flight. He landed just in front of the dog who obligingly stopped. Nick Knight regarded the dog. The dog regarded Nick Knight. It sat down, dropped the tesserect and panted at him happily. Nick picked up the device, holding it gingerly and with distaste. The woman panted up, stopped, and tried to catch her breath. She reached for her puppy with one hand, the tesserect remote with her other. "Thank you," she gasped, not immediately recognizing her rescuer. "Not so fast." She looked up, dark blue eyes looking into pale as Nick reached for the hilt of the sword. She pushed her glasses back up her nose and brought his face into relative focus just as a sinking feeling hit the pit of her stomach. "Uh -- er -- hello?" she said hopefully. She prayed the change of hair color since Christmas two years ago would throw him off. "I know you --" It was not precisely a warm statement. He looked at the puppy, not on a leash and without tags. He smiled. It would really be more of an annoyance than anything, but it would please him. "I think you'd better come with me." "Uh -- Detective Knight -- couldn't you just let me go? I'll go home. I promise." "And home is?" His pleasant tone belied his knowledge. "Las Cruces, New Mexico," she said in a small voice knowing that she had just about enough change in her pockets to purchase a Coke and that was it. She held out her wrists. "You gonna cuff me?" she asked in her best "don't kick the puppy" voice. Nick relented. "No. But you will be coming down to the station with me until we get this sorted out. First though, empty your pockets and hand over that sword." Dragon Sallie nodded with a sigh. Handing over what were technically the most prized possessions in her horde, she then gathered up Zed, who kept trying to launch himself at Nick to lick his face, and got into the Caddy. Well, at least she could say she had gotten to ride in the Caddy, being something of a closet Caddywhack over the thing. On the other hand, she was also getting to spend some time in a Toronto lock-up until somebody rescued her. It was not the first time Dragon Sallie had seen the inside of the precinct house, the most memorable time had been with two other addicts when they had reported being held up by a robber disguised as Santa Claus. This time wasn't nearly as cheerful and involved actual incarceration behind bars. She used her one phone call to contact the Shrine, but the answering machine picked up the phone. No Addicts at home. She prayed somebody would check the messages soon, then settled back in her cell, wondering if she'd actually get her sword, tesserect and blowtorch back. *********************************************************************** Wee hours of Saturday morning... "O Lord, bless this break-in and bless us, so that we may better escape the yoke of the Toronto and Provincial Ontario justice systems. Lead us not into temptation, at least, temptation involving tax fraud during our audit, and deliver us from evil, specifically pollution, parking laws, Mercenaries and Brussel sprouts. We thank you for your time. Amen." "Ready?" "Ready." sneak...sneak...sneak...tiptoe-tiptoe...sneak *pause* peek-peek *giggle* "Shhh!" "Mac-scuuuse me!" sneak...tiptoe-tiptoe... "Psst! Look! There's someone all alone, napping in the interrogation room!" sneak...sneak...fiddle-fiddle....cha-click! Tap. Tap. Sergeant Pulte started awake. He instinctively tried to move his hands to rub his eyes, but found them cuffed to his chair. "Huh?!?" Before him stood two fierce warrior maidens, wearing plaid togas, their faces striped with blue paint. They brandished spears, the tips poking his tummy just so they tickled. "Heehee...ack!" Behind the fierce warrior maidens, there were two more women. One sported an ecclesiastical collar, Birkenstocks and a fake Groucho Marx mustache. Pulte wasn't sure if she was there to give him last rites or a cigar. The fourth woman had on a witch's costume with a putty, warty nose. The cone of her witch's hat, however had been replaced with a brightly colored peak shouting 'Happy Birthday!' in VERY ENTHUSIASTIC LETTERS! "Give us your keys, or else!" Minister Marx instructed. "I don't have them on me!" Pulte gulped. "Thae dirty bugger's lying!" "Ne'er trust a man who sleeps on thae job! Skewer 'em!" the Warrior Maidens chorused. "Now, now..." Minister Marx held up her hands, signaling calm. "Let's not impale anyone too rashly." "Yes," the Birthday Witch agreed cheerfully. "Let's prove he's a dirty, lying bugger, *then* we skewer him." Pulte shivered. They never covered *this* at the police academy. The two blue meanies stepped forward and roughly searched his person. "Och! Nae keys!" "They're in my desk drawer!" Pulte yelped, then cringed at his caving under pressure. It was that damn Mountie wanna-be streak of helpfulness in his nature. The Minister Marx glanced at the closed interrogation room door, then back at the sergeant. "Well, crap." "Hey," the Birthday Witch consoled. "Don't fret. We can sneak to his desk. We're good at sneaking." "Tell us where your desk is...or we'll skewer ya!" "Well..." Pulte began slowly. He was poor at giving directions, especially under the threat of evisceration. "What," the Birthday Witch piped in, "is to stop him from directing us to a place like...say...Reese's office? Nope, we'll have to sneak him with us." "But he's handcuffed to the chair, and his keys are in his desk," the Minister pointed out. "So it'll be a challenge. No one said this rescue thing would be easy." The Warrior Maidens protested. "Yes, you did!" "Hush, now. Everyone think quiet thoughts." *creeeak* peek-peek....sneak...THHURUNK!....sneak...THHURUNK! "His chair's nae thinking quietly," one Warrior Maiden whispered harshly. "I can't help it!" Pulte promised. "Turn left here." Thunk. Peek-peek...sneak...THHURUNK!...sneak...THHURUNK! "Okay, stop here," Pulte said. "Desk on your right, the middle drawer." The other Warrior Maiden swiftly jerked the desk open and snatched up Pulte's key ring, dangling it before his face. "Which fits thae evidence locker?" Pulte nudged one gold key with his nose. "That one." He was greeted with four gleeful grins before they turned and all began to sneak away. Tiptoe-tiptoe. "Hey! Wait a minute!" Pulte yelled after them, forgetting all about the importance of quiet thoughts. "Don't leave me chained to this chair!!!!" A commotion started in the precinct at the sergeant's shout. "Oops," the Birthday Witch muttered, just before she led the group in a mad bout of running. *********************************************************************** End of Part One Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FWBI-0004sS-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 01:16:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7567; Sat, 14 Aug 99 01:14:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0840; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 01:14:30 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:16:19 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: Scales of Justice (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3b0ecf33f1aee625d1be0fc89309af3d NA: Scales of Justice (2/2) By Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Dragon Sallie, RevSam, Sukh, MacCousin Heather, and Glennis Time: Wee hours of Saturday August 14th Location: 96th precinct RevSam, Glennis, Heather and Sukh ducked behind the door to lockup as it opened. Lucky for them, the guard on duty was abandoning his post to investigate the furor surrounding the horrible villains who cuffed Sergeant Pulte to his chair. Lucky for them, he didn't look behind the door as he pushed it wide for two bloodthirsty warrior maidens, a stand-up priest or a birthday witch. Of course, Glennis, Heather, Sukh and RevSam had all ducked into the Little Policewomans' Room, as soon as possible to dispose of their possible noteworthy costumes. They had originally been meant to conceal the Addicts' identities, but plans changed. Now, except for the spears, some blue paint and the Rev's Birkenstocks, there were no signs of the suspects Pulte described. The four were exquisitely still as the guard moved up the stairwell, letting the door to lockup float slowly closed. At the last possible second, RevSam moved, jamming her foot in the way of the door clicking shut. It was a steel door. Sam wore Birkenstocks. It was not a pleasant experience. RevSam's first impulse was to yell, "Ow!" at the top of her lungs. Glennis clapped a hand over her mouth and whispered lightly, "Think quiet thoughts." The Rev nodded her understanding, so Glennis removed her hand. RevSam then proceeded to mouth the words slowly and distinctly, "*Get* *the* *door* *off* *my* *foot.*" The guard was a distant memory by now, so Glennis, Sukh and Heather all leapt forward to yank the door wide at once. RevSam was still technically behind it, so this motion did not go over well. The door slammed into the wall behind it, squishing the Rev in the process. "Thank you," the now-flatter Rev Sam said, her voice carrying a note that she was imparting anything but blessings in their honor. MacCousin Heather threw her hands up in the air and shook her head as she spoke to Sukh. "See? It happens every war, and I always end up saying it: We're on a collision course with wackiness!" RevSam eased herself out from behind the steel door. "You never mentioned that wackiness drove a Mack truck." Glennis waved at them to quiet. "Enough! Let's rescue Sallie before the guard comes back!" Sallie did not look worse for wear from her two days languishing in lockup. Neither did her puppy, Zed. They did, however, both resemble fashion victims, since both had been forced to wear industrial orange jumpsuits. The puppy looked intent upon shredding the left leg of Sallie's outfit by chewing, and Sallie looked intent on encouraging him. She'd rather be a naked Dragon than an industrial orange one. Sukh casually grabbed the loop of cell keys that hung by the entrance to lockup. Sukh had garnered more than her fair share of keys this evening - too bad there wasn't a Nunkies Scout badge for that. In a few seconds, Sallie and Zed were free. "What took you so long? These cells have been filled with the paranoid and crazy puppets tonight." "So it felt like home, eh?" Sallie tittered. "Tell me you have the keys to the evidence locker." "Got thae keys," Sukh said, dangling the loop. Sallie rubbed her talons together with glee. "Now...to take back my sword." "Uhm...Sallie, there may be a slight problem there," RevSam explained. "We were perhaps a bit rowdy in stealing the keys to the evidence locker. There are officers swarming all over it now." "Dragon cannot live without her sword, blowtorch or tesserect! We need a distraction away from the distraction..." ******************************************************************** "My thumb's getting tired," Heather complained. "Heehee..." Dragon Sallie was having too much fun to care. Since all the officers were searching for intruders around the evidence locker, the Addicts had no trouble slipping into the bullpen. It was vacant. Next, the Addicts searched all the officers' desks for lighters and matches. Then, Sallie marched them purposefully toward the water cooler. "What's the purpose of this again?" Sukh asked, singeing her fingers for the fourth time on a match stick stub. "We melt the water cooler...heehee...it causes a fuss...titter... pretty flames..." Sallie explained. "Wait a second." Glennis paused in flicking her borrowed Bic. "The point of this plan is to start a nice bonfire, using a ten gallon canister of water as kindling?" Sallie nodded. "It'd go quicker if I had my flamethrower, though," she said, frowning at their progress. Parts of the water canister had turned black and rippled, and there were more than half a dozen holes leaking all over the floor. "Water doesn't burn, Sallie," Heather complained. "We'd have better luck brewing a cuppa tea." RevSam, already interpreting the strange and wonderful place that was the chain of Sallie's reasoning, had quit assaulting the water cooler with her lighter, prayed for deliverance, then set up position on a chair below a fire detector some minutes earlier. When the overhead sprinklers kicked into action all over the building, she jumped back down to the floor. "See?" Sallie nudged Heather and Glennis as various shouts rose up in the building, protesting the sudden downpour. "I told you burning the water cooler would distract from your distraction." They tried not to groan, but instead ducked under the bullpen desks while they waited for the building to empty from RevSam's improv fire drill. Once the coast was clear, they had absolutely no trouble repossessing Sallie's items from evidence, and, on their way out, they took the time to 'borrow' one of the TOFD's big hoses. You know, just in case. ************************************************************************ Fin for now... Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Sat Aug 14 02:32:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FWgq-0005tp-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 01:49:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5256; Sat, 14 Aug 99 01:46:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1559; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 01:46:56 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 22:49:28 -0700 Reply-To: "Shana N." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Shana N." Subject: WAR: DP: All the World's a Wall Hanging (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d9ace00a0d774f914141a0b53336e327 ***************** WAR: DP: "All the World's a Wall Hanging" (01/01) Place: the Raven, for the most part Time: Friday afternoon, pre-party, following "Of Vee-Bay and Dark Perks" Author: Shana Nolan All persons used with permission ****************** Driving down the road, music blasting (it had been a fight between the Blues Brothers and the Chemical Brothers... Weird Al won in the end. ;-) ), Laura, Andrea and Cat carried the precious cargo of the Nunkies in Repose tapestry in the DP's pink caddy. "So, Cat, what luck to have run into you on the way!" Andrea shouted over the wind rushing past them. Cat raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her pink lab coat. "Run *into?!* Try run over! But nevertheless, thanks!" Slowing the monster car down and rounding a corner as she pulled it into an alley, Laura cut the engine hopped out and walked to the trunk. "Well, here goes nothing. Hey Andrea, knock on the door, we're expected." Trying to tame her now unruly brown hair, the Thug walked up to the door, knocking three times. A few moments later a head peeked out. "Yes?" "Hey Kimmer, we have a delivery for you." The head of the Ravenettes, her blonde hair halfway to party acceptable status, opened the door wide, afternoon sun spilling into the club. "Oh, the Tapestry? Excellent, we were just cleared a space for it." Lifting the trunk, Cat coming around the back to help her, the two DPs pulled the huge wall covering out of the trunk (those things really are big ;-) ) and walked it into the Raven, which was currently being thrown into party mode, decorations being hung all over the place and some still in neat stacks, waiting to be put up. Jumping out of the way and into someone, Andrea whipped around, an apology on her lips, stammering when she recognised who it was. "Oh, I'm sorry, I-- Janette?" The currently mortal vampire vixen raised a freshly plucked eyebrow at the teenager. "It's fine... " Watching as the rolled tapestry was walked over to the bar and set down on it, the Thugs coming around the back to grab ladders and prepare to hang it over the bar, Janette sighed. "So that's Lucien's precious wall hanging?" Climbing up the ladder, Laura turned around suddenly. "Yes, it is, isn't it wonderful... and I still don't see why we need to sell it... " Stepping through the main doors, a huge tote in hand, Ren burst in. "Because, sidekick, we have to pay off those credit card bills!" Kimmer suddenly stuck her hands behind her back and whistled innocently. Laura huffed and went back to work, fastening the tapestry to hooks. Ren shook her head and padded down the stairs, setting the bag as Andrea strolled over and pointed to it. "What's this?" "Oh, its our party stuff!! We can't have you all covered in dust for the party now can we?" Ren's voice was cheerful, like she had just downed a full double mocha frappuchino in the car ride over to the club (which she had). Smiling at Janette, she grinned, "So, do you have the taps open for the coffee yet?" Janette sighed, wrinkled her nose at the thought (though mortal, her lust for coffee hadn't apparently kicked in...) and pointed at Kimmer who was currently digging through a pile of velvet linens at the end of the bar. "I'm not sure, cherie, but she would know." Kimmer shrugged. "Sure they are. What do you think has been perkulating all day?" Locking the final hook, Andrea jumped off the ladder and came around to peek into the bag Ren had brought... black and dark pink garments were folded inside, their night's outfits carefully picked out and brought to them, compliments of the Dark Pink Ninja. "Is this what we picked out earlier?" Ren nodded, waving as she caught two Ravenettes (looking suspiciously like Caroline and Teresa) rush by with various cleaning supplies. Looking to Kimmer, she hooked a finger at the blurs. "Oh, there's a..." feeling the stare of her faction figurehead at her back, Kimmer quickly added, "a mess in the booth." Ren mouthed an "oh." Coming round the bar as various Raven employees stopped to look at the Tapestry in its new place, Laura crossed her arms and stood next to Ren. "We really have to do this?" Ren patted her sidekick's shoulder. "Yup. It could be worse, we could be hanging the Reese in Repose tapestry in your room right now." The Dark CERK Perk shivered. "Oh, that's quite alright, I guess I'll learn to live with it." Janette turned her head a little to the side, studying the piece of art. It was a fine rendition of her vampire master from his mortal days. ~Mortal days,~ she mused ironically, still a bit taken aback by recent events. "Il est bon. Ladies, when you need them, there are private rooms in the back, you are welcome to change back there if you like, now, if you'll excuse me." With that she left, Kimmer grinning suddenly. "And now that you gals don't have anything else left to do why don't you help us finish getting set up?" The Dark Perks exchanged desperate glances, all trying to think of any reason to get out of the sudden task ahead. "Um, I have a bunny to be-head." "I had my dark pink heels left at the mansion, I have to go get them." "Isn't the caddy illegally parked? I better go move it." "But I left an experiment on the Bunsen... " Kimmer shook her head. Ren threw up her hands in defeat, grabbing a feather duster. "Knew I should have gone with Tracy and Mary to Perkos... " ***************** Shana, dpangel@thegrid.net the Darth Perk Angel, DP 2nd in Command From - Sat Aug 14 02:37:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FXMY-0000jC-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 02:32:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7733; Sat, 14 Aug 99 02:29:45 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3306; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 02:29:45 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:40:37 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP/Urchin: The Human Experience (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8e62949da2f37b0747f754efb5bad736 WAR: DP/Urchin: The Human Experience (1/1) Place: DP Mansion, a cafe, and a Tattoo Parlor Time: Friday the 13th, morning into the late afternoon... it's all kinda a blur *eg* By: Cousin Mary The second she woke up Urs knew there was something wrong. For one thing, the lovely dark rose bedroom the Dark Perks had given her was full of people looking at her. For another, the high windows stood open, the sunlight streamed in and fell across the bed. Shrieking, Urs dove under the velvet coverings, "Close the windows! You want me to fry?!" She waited, but all the former dancehall girl heard were the muffled voices of DPs, Urchins and Tracy Vetter. Strange, even from under the covers she should have been able to make out what they were saying... Then it hit her, when she'd woken up she'd been in the sun, but it hadn't been the sun that had woke her. She hadn't burned! Pulling the covers back down she looked, sure enough the morning sun was bathing the entire room with soft yellow light, and it didn't bother her a bit. "Wh-what's going on?" Tracy sat down next to her, and Urs was struck by how comfortable she was with that. No bloodlust. She looked around the room, several DPs and both her Urchins stood watching them with openly curious expressions. "Tracy?" Urs put a hand out and touched the mortals arm... and recoiled. "You're cold!" "Actually," Tracy smiled slightly, "I'm normal, you're just warm." Urs frowned, reaching up and touching her forehead, then something occurred to her and her hand slipped to her throat *thump, thump* She looked back at the window, the sunlight shining down on her, "Oh my god!" Tracy nodded, "Yep Urs, welcome to mortality." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>An hour later<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< Urs looked around the small cafe, 'Perkos,' she looked over the DPs and Urchins as they shoveled pancakes and French toast into their mouths and slurped down coffee and juices. "So... this is breakfast?" Tracy took a sip of coffee and smiled, "Yep." Urs thought back to the small mining town she'd grown up in, well this family place, with its pink curtains and neon signs, was at least cleaner. "I vaguely remember breakfast." She stabbed at her French toast. Tracy watched Urs sniff at each bite before putting it in her mouth, chewing took all her concentration, but she was coping remarkably well. A little after dawn her DPs had received a call from some of their friends at the Raven, seems all the vampires there had turned mortal. It was assumed that this was a temporary condition, though no one could figure out why this was assumed... Anyway, they'd all headed upstairs and sure enough, Urs was mortal too. Well, never one to let people mope, especially friends, Tracy had taken it upon herself to remind Urs of all the wonderful things about being mortal. And though most whined about getting up before noon, the DPs and Urchins had come along too. "So what are we going to do next?" The two Jennies (#2 & #3) bounced excitedly after finishing their breakfasts. "Go back to bed?" Mary suggested groggily, her eyes open for the sole purpose of finding her coffee mug. She felt in her purse for her wallet, thinking that her coffee tab was going to be pretty high and felt the heavy weight of the... well, whatever the heck that thing on the Mansion's doorknob had been. What could it be? Oh well, she'd worry about it later. She looked back up at group, "Doesn't more sleep sound good?" "Hardly," Tracy chuckled, then turned to the mortal formally known as vamp, Urs, "Anything particular you'd like to do with your first day in the sun?" Urs thought about it a minute, "Ya know, there is something I've always wanted, but could never get as a," She paused and looked around, before lowering her voice to almost a whisper, "As a vampire." "Oh?" The detective leaned forward, intrigued. Urs whispered in her ear and Tracy started laughing. "Oh I think we can arrange that!" "What?" June and Trish chorused. Still chucking, Tracy smiled at them, "You'll see. Everyone into the cars!" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Another hour later<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< "Who comes to a place called 'Stained for Life?" Karen asked as she slurped down the last of her coffee and followed the DPs into the tattoo parlor. "We do!" Carly answered back, grinning. As the DPs, Urchins and Urs and Tracy fanned out throughout the shop, the body artists eyed them with appreciation. Now here was some fine female flesh, all they needed were some tattoos and extraneous holes in their persons. "So what can we do for you ladies?" Spike asked past the numerous lip and tongue piercing. "Um," Tracy turned and did a quick head count, 12 total. "Do you give group discounts?" Spike exchanged looks with his partner, Giles (co-incidence, really! *eDPg*) "We do now!" The blue hared DP teen, SNB went first, having a small black cat with blue eyes tattooed onto her shoulder, and Sailor Mercury (from the anime Sailor moon) on her ankle. Hyped up on the 17 pixie sticks she'd bought from a vending machine in the back of the shop, Andrea had a dark pink severed bunny head put on her ankle. Jenny#2 had a black wolf with yellow eye put on her shoulder, then, since her best bud Jenny#3 didn't want anything 'permanent' forced her to get the same hennaed across her belly. Carly got a black and red spade (as in cards, not trowels) put on her back between her shoulder blades, while Mary got 'Evil Twin' tattooed in a small round circle on her hip. June got a white dragon put on her shoulder blade, before going into the back to do Tequila shooters with the already finished adult DPs. Urs got what she wanted, a tattoo of a rapid poodle on her right shoulder blade. While head Urchin Trish, got her navel pierced. Shana also got something pierced, but she won't say where she dangles it *eDPg* As they started finishing up the two bigger tattoos: the stork on maternity nurse Karen's shoulder and the Beast of Caerbannog (the bunny from the Monty Python: Quest for the Hold Grail) on Tracy's lower abdomen, the DP Thugs, Urchins and Urs started heading next door to the bars and confection shops. By the time everyone was ready to head to the Raven's party they we're all quite ready to party. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I wanna rock and roll all night, and party everyday! Cousin Mary ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 14 02:57:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FXhK-0004eK-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 02:53:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5394; Sat, 14 Aug 99 02:51:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3664; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 02:51:39 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 01:42:06 -0500 Reply-To: Lisa Luksus Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: CUZ: Hitching A Ride To The Raven To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c9d72fa3c38350fac39bb816579a99f8 Hitching A Ride To The Raven by Cousin Tok Place: CERK Time: Friday, August 13th, about 8:30 PM Tok looked at herself in the mirror. Long black skirt, black silk blouse, black heels. For color, there were the cat earrings she'd bought a couple of days ago and the cat necklace her husband had given her for Christmas. She glanced at the bed, where dear Miss Willow was observing her human with feline amusement. "Don't you like the outfit, Willow?" "Rowr!" "What do you know, anyway? With a long skirt, I don't have to wear pantyhose." Tok spun on a heel to leave; the effect was spoiled by the undignified wobble. Down in the lobby, she encountered Cousin Kym and Maria Wiberg. "Ladies, are we ready to party at the Raven?" "Sure, Tok," replied Kymn. "Nice fashion statement there." "Basic black is a classic," Tok retorted. "Besides, this *fits*, and I can even sit down in it. I'm not a Ravenette, after all. You look good tonight, Kym. You too, Maria." "Thanks," Maria said. "How are we getting to the party?" "Well, I suppose I could drive us," Tok said, thinking of her poor little Corolla. Her mind barely registered the elevator opening behind them. "Good evening, ladies." Lacroix looked especially elegant tonight; it was a good thing none of the three were Addicts, or things could have become embarrassing. "May I offer you a ride to the Raven?" "Um ..." said Kym. "I, um ..." managed Maria. "We'd love to, wouldn't we girls?" Tok nudged the two taller women. "Thanks." The three Cousins followed Lacroix out to the waiting limo. A most promising start to the evening, all things considered. Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Sat Aug 14 03:32:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FYHi-0002Gr-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 03:31:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7819; Sat, 14 Aug 99 03:28:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4555; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 03:28:33 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 00:30:26 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War: Vaqs--The Vaq Wonder Twins do the Raven (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 87f911aaef5fdd3c909d3b2751f37400 13 Aug 1999 The Raven Toronto, ON Disclaimer: Kathy of the Raven/ettes agreed to this, although she may wonder why later . The Vaq Wonder Twins Do The Raven By VaqScribe #3, Felicia At the Raven, Felicia and Teresita, the Vaquera Wonder Twins, stood at a corner of the bar surveying the scene. They had managed to extricate themselves from the dancefloor so that they could take a good look around "Vampire Central." "Are you sure I'm not overdressed, Ter?" Felicia glanced down at her short black skirt and lavender rayon tank. Not exactly Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, but not exactly Vaq-ish, either. "No, way, Twink. Besides, we did the mind-melt thing when we packed our clothes." Teresita also wore a short black skirt, but had opted for a sleeveless silk blouse in a deep burgundy. "You've got a point." All the factions had made it. The Raven/ettes, the party's host and hostesses, were ubiquitous. Teresita nudged Felicia and said, "Geez, will ya look at 'em. Must have taken *hours* to get hair and makeup done." "Yup. I'm all for good hygene and matching, but sheesh. Hey, there's Kathy. Let's say 'hi.'" Felicia walked off, Teresita trailing with an unsure look on her face. "Hey, Feleesh, are ya sure about this?" "Sure I'm sure. Kathy's cool. Besides, I butter her up about her fiction." Teresita blinked twice. "Okay, VWT2, I'm behind you." As they approached, Kathy turned to greet them. "Hey, Felicia, glad to see you made it. You, um, certainly made an impression with your entrance. I've never seen so many frightened citizens running in the streets." Teresita beamed. "It was *fabulous*, wasn't it?" "Oh, Kath, this is Teresita, VWT1. Teresita, this is Kathy of the 12 line sig." "Nice to meet you, Kathy." "You too. Are you enjoying yourselves?" The Vaqueras glanced at each other, and looked around the room. The Cousins were huddled in small pockets, eyes glowing fiendishly. The Knighties were spread thoughout the room, talking with members of other factions. No doubt they were debating the finer points of Caddys and their trunk space. The Nothers faction, newbies to the war effort, looked confident as they spun themselves on the dance floor. The Dark Perks were making their very special presence known by playing a game of catch with a headless pink bunny. The Nunkies Anonymous group was trailing after LaCroix, complete with their ever-present drool cups. Felicia shook her head as one NA swooned and nearly fell, only to be caught by several of her comarades. "What's not to enjoy? This is great, all I imagined it would be." Just then, Echo, fellow Vaq and O.I.D. extrordinaire, ran up to them. "Quick," she said, "link Julian Sands to Kevin Bacon." She rushed off, leaving a confused Kathy and two blinking Vaqs. Kathy glanced at Felicia and Teresita. She put her hand to her hair, smoothing out imaginary imperfections and said, "Have fun, guys. I'm off to renew my lipstick." She sauntered away. Teresita and Felicia turned and ambled slowly back to their corner. Felicia was muttering under her breath. "What was that, Twink," Teresita asked. Felicia made a face. "Julian Sands? I've only seen him in two movies, both of the "Warlock" flicks. Honestly, I don't know how she do. . ." Melissa strode over, her black leather skirt and jacket crinkling all the way. Tammy trailed behind her, wearing jeans and a concer t-shirt that had clearly seen better days. "Now that's the Vaq look," Felicia thought to herself. There was a strange look on Melissa's face. "Hey guys, who is that guy with Tracy Sue?" Teresita smiled an evil smile. "Oh, that's the Inca." Melissa nodded and smiled. "I forgot he was coming. . . " She paused, a slight frown pulling down the corners of her mouth. "But then, where's Vachon?" Rae, clad in black jeans and her black "Got Blood" t-shirt joined the group. "What's up?" "We were just wondering where Vachon has gotten to." The quintet looked around briefly. Felicia and Teresita shrugged. "Ahh, he's a big boy. Surely he can take care of himself," Teresita said. Echo returned, pulling a grinning Tabitha with her. Echo was bubbling over with enthusiasm. "Do you guys give up? I've got it! Julian Sands was in "Tennesee Nights" with Stacy Dash, who was in "Clueless" with Alicia Silverstone, who was in "Excess Baggage" with Benecio Del Torro, who was in "The Usual Suspects" with Kevin Spacey, who was in "Seven" with Brad Pitt, who was in. . " "Sleepers" with Kevin Bacon," the whole group finished. "I don't know how ya do it, Echo," Felicia said. Echo beamed. "It's a gift." She looked at the dance floor and said, "Time to get jiggy with it." She wandered off towards the crowd. The others moved off, leaving the Vaq Wonder Twins alone once more. "Ya know, I could almost be worried about Javier. He's acting so strangely since. . .well, you know," Teresita said softly. "Yeah, I know what you me. . ." Just then a voice came from directly behind them. "And just what do you two think you're doing here in the corner?" The Vaqs jumped in unison, Felicia letting out an "EEPP!" and Teresita an "AAACK!" Without turning around, Teresita said, "What is it about scaring people, Javier? I mean, I'd think you'd get over that in four hundred and some odd years." "Yeah, riiiiight, Ter. He's four hundred and some going on 16." "It's just not fair that he can still do that!" Teresita was clearly exasperated. Vachon moved around so that he stood in front of them. He wore a smug look. "Sorry, I couldn't resist." Felicia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know. 'Because I can' and all of that. Look, Javs, play nice or I'll turn you over to the Dark Perks, and they'll dye those lovely raven locks of yours dark pink." Vachon cast a look at the DPs, who were still merrily tossing their bunny around. He turned back to Felicia. He blinked. "You're not kidding," he said. Felicia blinked back. "Nope, I'm serious." Vachon held his hands out in a placating gesture. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I was just having fun. Speaking of which, what are you guys doing way over here?" Teresita said, "Oh, we're just people watching. There's such an eclectic group here." "Uh-huh. Well, you two get out there." He placed a hand at each Vaq's shoulder and shoved them towards the action. "No troops of mine are gonna just stand around and watch." "This coming from the 'King of all Slackers'? Who are you and what have you done with our Javier," Felicia asked. "Go." Teresita sighed. "Geez, okay. Si, si, amigo. We're going." She turned to Felicia. "Pushy, isn't he?" "Mmmmm," Felicia returned. The two Vaqs moved slowly out, and ran smack into Tabitha. "Oh, sorry, Tabs. Didn't see ya," Felicia apologized. "Not necessary, VaqAdj! C'mon, they are gonna play our song." The Vaq Wonder Twins looked confused. "*Our* song? What song would that be, "Teresita wondered aloud. "No idea, Twinner." "C'mon, you two! It's time for the Vaq Dance." Tabitha grabbed each Vaq Twin by a hand and pulled. .hard. The Vaqs had once again herded into a group on the floor. They stood around, waiting for the DJ to spin their song. The opening notes of "Shout" flowed from the speakers, and a loud cry went up from the assembled group. The Vaqueras and one Vaquero broke into a frenzied dance, a strange combination of the twist, the pony, the mashed potato, and. . . "Aligator!" The group hit the floor on their backs and appeared to begin convulsing. The rest of the warriors backed off, clearly frightened by the display. "Wow," was all Kathy could think of to say. "That move could seriously wrinkle fine fabrics." Oblivious to the disturbance they were causing, the Vaq Troopers merrily jumped to their feet and continued the dance. When the song ended, they looked around to see that they had to dance floor to themselves. This brought a wicked grin to every Vaq face. "Ya know, what, Twinner," Felicia began, "Sherman was wrong." "How so, Twink?" The historian's eyes gleamed brightly. "War is *not* hell," she said. "War is *awesome*!" Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2 "The War Machine springs alive; opens up one eager eye. ."--Nena, '99 Red Balloons'. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 14 10:20:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FYXa-0001dh-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 03:47:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9483; Sat, 14 Aug 99 03:45:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4944; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 03:45:43 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 01:30:50 MDT Reply-To: Meg Anderson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Meg Anderson Subject: War: NP: Sleep, Socks, and the Raven To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 896642166d93ae7611558014820d2fc6 The Natpack: Sleep, Socks, and the Raven by Meg Anderson Time: Friday the 13th; early evening Place: Natalie Lambert's apartment Nat's living room was filled with exhausted, travel-worn people. Soft snores and sighs could be heard above the quiet whirr of the heating system. Debra Ann surveyed the room of napping Packers. "I suppose," she said to Maureen, "this means no one wants to go to the party at the Raven with us." Five heads popped up, and three others poked around the door that led to the kitchen. "Party?" Melissa asked. "What party?" Meg and Robyn chorused. "The party!" Judy and James bounced into the room. Jill jumped to her feet. "I forgot all about that!" Meg immediately began digging through her gigantic tan suitcase and pulled out a black tank top and a similarly coloured jean jacket, while Melissa grabbed a black dress that sat on top of her duffel bag. Lynn stood by the door, waiting patiently. She'd had the fortune of coming in Raven-appropriate garb and thus didn't need to rush about. James joined her moments later, having swiftly changed into a black silk shirt and black jeans. Jill pulled on a pair of black boots as Robyn quickly checked her makeup, having decided that she was well enough attired for the Raven. Kimberly held two pairs of socks out at arm's length, eyeing each pair carefully. "Stripes." She began to put the scarily Wicked-Witch-of-the-West red-and-yellow striped socks on, then stopped. "No, fish!" She took off the striped sock that adorned her left foot and replaced it with a blue sock decorated with fish of various species. She held out her fish-clad foot and wiggled her toes. She wrinkled her nose. "No, definitely stripes." She spent the next ten minutes switching between the two pairs. The rest of the Raven-going Pack had tired of her sock game. "CHOOSE already!" They suggested (to put it lightly) in a whisper. Kimberly looked up at them with wide eyes. "I just can't decide." Lynn spoke up. "The stripes match... your eyes. I'd go with them." Kimberly gazed up at her with awe. "You're right! I think I will!" She finally tugged on the striped socks and put her boots with 3-inch stacked heels over top. The Natpack sighed with relief. "Last call," Debra said in a stage whisper. Silence, except for a mumbled "Seven owls?" from someone near the back. A group shrug commenced, then the party-goers turned as one and quietly bounced out the door. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 14 10:20:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FYmr-00027J-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:03:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7864; Sat, 14 Aug 99 04:01:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5316; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:01:27 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 02:06:17 -0600 Reply-To: Kimberly Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: PARTY AT THE RAVEN: FRIDAY, AUGUST 13, 1999, 8:00 P.M. Part 01 of ? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3bda35b6a5dcd7a7655ff81564cba20d The Raven looked fabulous. The UFers had cleaned up their mess, there was a place for everything and everything was in its' place. The ice sculpture of a raven loomed above it all. surrounded by a "reflecting pool" and star-gazer lilies. Lovely work of art. The flowers were fresh and abundant all over the club. The club was filled with china and crystal and silver from the centuries. Janette had brought out her very best to welcome the factions back to Toronto. Janette was perfectly attired in black velvet and sequins. Her hair upswept, she was lavishly bedecked in diamonds and rubies. Miklos and Alexander looked dashing in their tuxedos. All the Raven- ettes were dressed to the nines in velvet, satin, sequins, silk. Hair and makeup was totally glamour. Janette shared her jewels with her faction, and the power and beauty of high-quality gemstones and gold was everywhere. Janette allowed a moment of acknowledgement to sweep happily over her. She had done it. She had outdone her party from last year. No small victory, that. Triumphant and happy, Janette turned to Kimberly and whispered in her ear, "Show time, darlings! Open the doors!" -- Kimberly Ravenettes faction leader, war 10 aol im kimmertom icq #9306895 http://members.tripod.com/LeeAnnP/raven/index.htm http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FYqY-000541-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:07:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9508; Sat, 14 Aug 99 04:05:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5397; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:05:16 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 03:14:10 +0100 Reply-To: "Tracy S.Morris" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Tracy S.Morris" Subject: War:Vaqs: Do Vampires Dance With Electric Sheep? (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 43a4b206f8879ff98f5052e11f16c6b3 Place: The Raven's party Date: Friday the 13th. Time: fashonably late Do vampires dance with electric sheep? (1/1) The Vaqueros were divided into three camps when it came to parties. Particularly parties that involved the Ravenettes. There was the Faction that felt that it was a chance to dress nicely, the faction that dressed down just to offend the establishment, and the faction that just didn't care, so they would wear whatever happened to be on their backs when they struck a fancy to go. Cliff was a dresser-upper. He wore Red sunglasses, a black leather vest over a white ruffled shirt. Black boots and jeans. A chain of red stones ornamented his neck. His black belt was studded with a large silver bat head buckle. His fingers sported enough silver pointy things that a few Natpackers categorized them as surgical implements. Emma saw her clothing as a physical manifestation of her contempt for the stylish. That was why her worn out shirt spouted something un repeatable in a pg-13 war. Her sneakers looked like they might any minute take off on their own power, crawl up to the bar and ask for a cigarette. Add to this a pair of cutoffs and a black cap that proclaimed her a fan of the band Suicidal Tendencies, and the effect was completely . . . well, . . . effective. Oddly enough, the Ratpackers thought that she was the height of fashion. They clustered around her immediately and wanted to know which of the fashionable swap meets that she bought her clothing at. Vachon's clothing, by contrast to both Emma and Cliff, was almost an afterthought. To look at him, you would think he crawled out of bed, scratched his hinder, and thought: Clothing, now that would be nice. He didn't have to spend 30 minutes in front of his closet looking for the right shirt to match his socks. Everything he owned matched everything else. He usually just grabbed his shirt and socks with his eyes closed. Dressing up, dressing down. It was all the same. When he made an appearance, what he wore shouldn't overshadow his presence. The rest of the Vaqueros dressed somewhere within these three styles. Tracy Sue wore her nicest dress. It was the only dress that she had that hadn't been bought for church, so she was determined to wear it. It wasn't that often she could show off. When the opportunity arose, she took it. Vachon hit the dance floor with his entourage. They formed a circle around him, ruthlessly guarding him against the possibility that anyone else would try to dance with him. They looked like pit bulls guarding their dinner. Tracy Sue found a seat at the bar, and ordered tequila with a beer chaser. She downed the Tequila quickly, so that she wouldn't taste it, then nursed the beer for a while. A touch on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts rudely. She was about to tell whoever it was that she was in a foul mood, and didn't want that spoiled, when he sat next to her and ordered a sangria. It was the Inca. "Juan," She nodded to him as she sipped her beer. She made a face at the bitter taste. "Do you like that stuff?" He asked her. "Not particularly." "Then why do you drink it?" "I'm in a bad mood. This helps insure that I won't cheer up anytime soon." "What's your problem?" "He's out there dancing." Tracy Sue pointed to the floor where Vachon was encircled by dozens of women. The Inca watched Vachon in amusement. "Which one is he dancing with?" "All of them, I think." Tracy Sue sipped her beer again. "He decided that he doesn't want to play war this war. So what brings you out?" "I have a problem," "You're mortal." Tracy Sue observed. "It's going around." "Why?" the Inca asked. "Doesn't that bother you?" "I've got someone working on it." Tracy Sue glanced at Nafs where she was currently dancing. "Eventually." "If I only had my own faction," He complained. "At least then I could marshal forces to help me investigate the problem." "I thought you had a faction?" Tracy Sue said incredulously. "Didn't the Incarnates play in the last war?" "Sadly, that wasn't my faction," He stared past her at his reflection on the bar. "It belonged to another Inca." "Oh, that's right. You're the generic Inca." She said sympathetically. "How did that happen, anyway?" "It was an accident from war Eight." He lamented as his own drink arrived. Rather than sip it, he was content to stair at the fruity darkness of the glass. Tracy Sue stared that the drink, licking her lips thoughtfully. She wondered if he would be willing to trade glasses with her. "You don't suppose that Javier would loan me a follower or two to investigate this mortality thing, would he?" He looked at her hopefully. "Yeah sure," Tracy Sue mumbled absently, still looking at his sangria. "You do? Then I'll ask him!" The Inca left the bar, humming happily to himself. Tracy Sue took his drink and left the beer. She wondered what the heck she just agreed to. Author's Note: The Inca used in this story is "Juan Valdez" the generic Inca, a character that I invented for my story "how I learned to stop worrying and love the evil pink shirt." I'm using him here because I can. He is not to be confused with other vampires of the Incan persuasion. Remember! When you want an Inca, accept no substitutes! Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Why? Because I'm a sucker for Vachon! From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FZIc-00030x-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:36:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5531; Sat, 14 Aug 99 04:34:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5868; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:34:14 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 03:26:18 -0500 Reply-To: dornhoff@prairienet.org Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Janet Dornhoff, DVM" Subject: WAR: NP: Forever Vet heeds the call To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6ec7f765ded74bf5893484671e120286 This is a little bit late, but I was at a job interview. Just retro-fit it in right before the NatPack intro post where I catch up with the van. *** Dr. Janet Dornhoff, aka The Forever Vet, strolled through the empty halls of the University of Illinois College of Veterinary Medicine. The school year wouldn't start for a few more weeks, and during the summer, only the current seniors were about. This time of night, most of them had gone home, and there wasn't even an Equine student stuck there on ICU duty tonight. No patients needing the extra care; indeed, hardly any patients were in the stalls at all tonight. She'd come to the school tonight to check the collection of letters sent to the school from practices looking to hire a recent graduate. It was updated irregularly, and she kept hoping the perfect job would appear. The computer lab was upstairs, between the Large and Small Animal branches, and she couldn't resist parking at the far end of LAC and visiting the Trakehner horses on her way in. A few dozen of the large German breed had been donated to the vet school a few years ago, and she loved visiting them. Troubadour in particular, a former Olympic horse who Janet had cared for during her Equine rotation, was always glad to see her. Thelma and Louise, the Food Animal cats, greeted her enthusiastically as she slipped in the back entrance. They still remembered the Tender Vittles she'd kept in her bookbag as a student. They tagged along almost all the way to Radiology, where Henry took over as her escort. The building was divided up into territories as surely as any African savannah. Oneida stuck her head out of Equine, but disappeared again when no treats were offered. The computer lab, too, was deserted. The hallway containing the Student Intern apartments was dark and quiet. *Not like Junior year,* she thought, *when they were up at all hours no matter the season.* The jobs book beckoned, but Janet couldn't resist logging on and checking her e-mail before getting down to work. The connection here was so much faster than her modem at home, and there was supposed to be a War coming up soon. She was really getting sick of job-hunting, and looked forward to the distraction, although she coudln't remember exactly when the War was supposed to start. She still remembered when "A Call to Arms" first dropped and kicked off the whole game. Her mailbox was bursting; obviously, the War was already underway. *Oh, well, I've missed most of the others, at least I only missed a little of this one.* She sorted the messages by poster and checked for anyone particularly interesting. A post from Natalie immediately caught her eye. *A carpool to Toronto, huh?* She glanced at her watch, and swore softly. They couldn't make a stop in Champaign, and she'd have to drive like a maniac to reach Chicago in time to catch the carpool there. At least she knew enough people in Chicago-land to be able to park her car safely. *Non-list* people's garages, where her car would not be an easy target to spot. *A little paranoia is a good thing in a War!* she reminded herself. Sticking her tongue out at the jobs book, she logged out and hurried back to her car. She'd have to head straight home to pack. *Good thing I never really unpacked from my trip to GenCon,* she thought to herself glumly. *Swap clean clothes for the laundry, and I'm all set!* Henry, who had slipped into the computer lab unnoticed, sat hidden behind the back row of Macs and pondered what he'd just read on the young vet's screen. A Forever Knight War. He wondered if the FoSsiLs had been notified. It would be just like those humans to forget about their betters at a time like this. Oneida wouldn't get involved unless the vet school were burned down around her fluffy little ears, but Thelma and Louise tended to live up to their namesakes in these matters. He jumped down from the computer tables and trotted down the hall, his passage silent in the deserted building. *** Janet slipped into the driver's seat of her little white Escort. The car had passed 75,000 miles on the way back from New Orleans, and after a tire blew near Chicago she'd had to replace the whole set, but overall it was still a good little car and holding up quite well. It was beginning to feel like a second home. She hooked up her CD player to the tape deck, and jiggled the volume control for a minute or two until it finally went up to an audible level. The darn thing hadn't gone up without threats of violence since she bought the car, but it went down easily and the radio worked. She'd switch to the traffic reports when she got closer to Chicago, but until then, she had a brand-new CD from The Great Luke Ski, and she intended to spend most of the trip listening to "Titanic Monday," "The Mystery Science Theatre Picture Show," "You Might Be A Trekkie If..." "Bad, Bad Boba Fett," and all the other wonderful-sounding tracks on the new album. After that, she had her Stan Rogers tape. She intended to finish her FK rewrites of "Northwest Passage" and "Barrett's Privateers" by the time she caught up with the van. If any NatPackers didn't know what filk music was now, they would by the time they made it to Toronto! She thundered off toward the north end of town, windows rolled down and a rap version of "Hamlet" drawing puzzled looks at every stoplight along the way to I-57. -Janet "He was brought across in twelve twenty-eight How he wishes he was mortal now!" From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FZIt-0005SD-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:36:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9537; Sat, 14 Aug 99 04:34:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5894; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:34:36 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 01:36:29 -0700 Reply-To: Allie Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Allie Subject: WAR: N/A: QUOTHE THE RAVEN'S OWNER: NEVERMORE! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f05ac3ce91fdd8c8a56451ca23f7ae46 NA: Quoth the Raven's Owner: "Nevermore!" (01/02) by: Allie & Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: After Midnight, Late Friday/Early Saturday Place: The Raven Permissions by: Cousin Miranda, Cousin Mary, DPAngel, and Permission to use Janette, Miklos, and the bouncer from Kimberly of the Ravenettes As we drew closer to the infamous bar known as The Raven the thumping of bass guitar and drums became almost deafening. The adrenalin surged through my veins in response, and I began bopping around behind Tiff, dancing in the street. A throat cleared meaningfully behind me, and I glanced back at theToenotes. "You're blocking our view of Tiff," the one with the camera told me. I stuck my nose in the air indignantly and wiggledmy bottom at him. Film this! "We're trying to film Tiff's experience of the War," he said with strained patience, "not your posterior." "Its symbolic," I replied. "Symbolic of the war as a whole." I began laughing at my own stupid pun, but then I noticed the bald neanderthal guarding the bar's door. Leather, tattoos, piercings...I wondered if he was mortal or not. Like a Palace Guard, he stared straight ahead and did not acknowledge our presence, even when I stopped and peered up at him. The Toenotes decided this MIGHT be worth filming - if it ended with gratuitous violence. "Pay inside," the Neanderthal rumbled. "Don't you want to card me?" I asked hopefully. He snorted derisively and the Toenotes chuckled disrespectfully, hurrying past me to catch up to Tiff. Suddenly I spotted Tiff chatting with a familiar petite girl with black hair and brown eyes. Miranda! The Dark Perk who had picked me up in her Wreckage Rental after my Crapalier broke down! I quickly pulled the lapel of my jacket up over my face and slinked onpast. "Just get yourself a drink and stay out of trouble," Tiff called to me with more than a hint of irony as I rushed by. "For now, anyway," she added in a lower voice. I barely heard it over the music. "I'll see you after the interview." "What's with your friend?" Miranda asked her. I didn't hang around to hear the reply. It sounded like she said something about "zits". I didn't want Miranda to know I was NA, not after I let her explain everything about the War and spill her guts about several Dark Perk plans on the way in to Toronto. I had managed to record those plans on my small voice activated recorder, and if the Perks ever figured out that NA must have had warning about their plots, I didn't want Miranda and Jenny to tie it to me. I looked around the crowded bar, staring like a bumpkin. I'd heard of The Raven, of course, but had never been there! The patrons did not look like the patrons of any bar I had ever been in. They wore a lot of black; leather and shiny materials. Men and women alike were painted with pale foundation make-up and arches of blue and purple over their eyes. Many of them had dyed their hair black, and they all affected an attitude of menace. It was impossible to tell who was vampire and who was mortal in this crowd. I would have to be careful. But as the ghoulish bartender passed me my first glass of wine, I was feeling anything but cautious. I downed it in several gulps and was right back at the bar. He obligingly exchanged my wine glass for something much larger. That's when I suddenly saw it hanging there... Nunkies in Repose was hanging behind the bar on display! Wow, Mary and DPAngel have really got guts to be displaying it so openly like that... I wonder if they knew two Addicts were actually attending the party. I guess not since they thought they could hang it up so openly like that. I had to tell Cousin Tiff, but not without a couple of drinks first. Afterall, I didn't want to disturb her documentary interview. End Part 1 _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FZP2-0005ZR-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:43:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7904; Sat, 14 Aug 99 04:40:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5979; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:41:00 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 01:42:53 -0700 Reply-To: Allie Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Allie Subject: WAR: N/A: QUOTH THE RAVEN'S OWNER: "NEVERMORE!" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4b2313e7ff35f3a680bffd3943f702b3 NA: Quoth the Owner 'Nevermore' (02/02) by: Allie & Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: After Midnight, Late Friday/Early Saturday Place: The Raven Permissions by: Cousin Miranda, Cousin Mary, DPAngel, and Permission to use Janette, Miklos, and the bouncer from Kimberly of the Ravenettes ******************* As soon as Evil Cousin Tiff had finished the interview with Miranda I was over at her booth in a second. I informed her about the tapestry behind the bar and she was ecstatic. She could easily get Nunkies in Repose back to the Shrine. And Nunkies and the rest of the addicts would be thrilled that we got it back! Tiff told me to make a diversion while she made her attack. Perhaps it was because I had one too many glasses of wine, (and a couple of beers), but I think I might have overdone it in the diversion department. Keeping an eye on Tiff as she used her Trance Powder to whammy the bartender, I began to dance and sing very loudly so that all eyes in the Raven were on me. (I really think I'd had too much too drink.) After getting some assistance from two of the Toenotes, who sang just as loudly (and as badly) as I did, everyone in the Raven, including Janette were watching me. No one noticed Cousin Tiff climbing up onto the bar, carefully pulling down the tapestry, folding it with great care, and putting it in her bag. No one noticed the three men filming her doing this activity. All eyes were on me... and I was going to give them a show! Once again, I probably had one too many glasses of wine waiting for Tiff to finish her interview -- or was it the Scotch?--, but that didn't matter. Wait a second, yes it did, because I wouldn't have done what I did next if I were sober. For some reason I got this incredible urge to take off my shirt. So I started to pull on the bottom and lift it off, when out of nowhere, Janette pulled me over to the side. "Hey, I wasn't finished," I said my speech all slurred. "Yes, you are, miss," Janette replied, trying to sound firm. "LaCroix doesn't own this club anymore. So I'll have none of that in here." Tiff walked over clutching her camo-bag close to her. The other 3 Toenotes weren't far behind with the equipment they each carried. "Young lady," Janette said, trying to place Tiff's face with a name. "Cousin Tiff," Tiff replied, answering Janette's unspoken request. "Evil Cousin Tiff." "Well, Evil Cousin Tiff, I want you to take your friend back to the Shrine and make her sober up!" Janette stated firmly. Tiff nodded as the Toenotes helped me walk out of the Raven. As we left and headed back to the Shrine, I could hear Tiff say, "Good thing Janette didn't see Allie's plastic glow-in-the-dark fangs..." End Part 2 _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FZds-0004Gd-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:58:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7918; Sat, 14 Aug 99 04:56:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6192; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 04:56:20 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 03:07:22 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP/Urchin: Enjoy Life! (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 88188081a728f137887daf0cb6f0c660 WAR: DP/Urchin: Enjoy Life! (1/1) Place: The Ravenette Party and DP Mansion Time: The Night of Friday the 13th and the following morning, after 'the Human Experience' By: Cousin Mary The ruckus that Tracy, Urs and their respective (if not respectable) factions caused on arriving at the Ravenette's party, was enough to wake the dead. But, as we know, all the undead in Toronto were currently alive by this point, so this actually meant very little. The women looked like a bachelorette party gone terribly awry. All were hyped up on too much sugar, Urs, Tracy, and quite a few Urchins and DPs had been enjoying some fermented beverages as well. And let's not even -start- about all the fresh tattoos and body piercings! Tracy and the DP had had the bright idea to show newly mortal Urs all the great things about being a mortal, so they'd all gone out and enjoyed life. Of course, a DP's idea of a good day VS everyone else's on the planet might be a tad different... But to make a long story short (too late) these gals had had a fabulous day! Meeting up at the party with the Thugs that had already arrived (Laura, Ren, Maya and Cat) a great many hugs and raunchy jokes were exchanged (as well as the flashing of new body art) before they all headed towards a table near the bar. "Ah, just look at it!" Shana sighed happily, waving her arm at the Nunkies in Repose Tapestry now hanging proudly over the bar. "I am!" Laura smiled, then she noticed the real thing across the way. "Oh my! Doesn't Lacroix look-" "A little on the pink side?" Mary raised an eyebrow. "Ya know," Tracy said conversationally, "Seeing as he's mortal... I could shoot him right now and he'd go down like a ton of... bricks." She looked around for her partner, "Speaking of..." "Tracy!" Urs stared at her open mouthed. "Not that I would," Tracy smiled, "I was just saying that I -could-." The DP giggled at Urs' stupefied expression. Not many knew Tracy's had such a dark sense of humor, but Urs now did. A few more DPs wandered into the party and came to sit with them, while others left the table to dance and talk with friends. Urs looked around at the happily chatting people and smiled, for the first time in a long time she felt truly at peace. She was really enjoying this whole day. Stretching her hands above her head she even enjoyed the feeling of her tired muscles. She'd forgotten what it felt like to be human. Eating, drinking, even breathing felt so strange like this. Strange, but good. The DPs and Urchins mingled. Tracy and Urs both danced with countless partners, thoroughly enjoying themselves all night. There was one small incident... when some DPs wrapped table clothes around their necks like capes and pretended to be B-movie vampires ('I vant to suk your blood! Blah!') chasing each other around, biting occasionally. But the former real vampires ignored their shenanigans. "Tracy?" Urs pulled her friend into the ladies room later that night, "I have a question." "Shoot," Tracy grinned, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. "Miklos, is he a major babe or what?" Urs asked. Tracy giggled, the giggling turned to laughter, "Oh you are so drunk Urs!" As Tracy doubled over, Urs smiled, "And you aren't?" Tracy looked up, her nose wrinkling, "Maybe a bit." "But, let's focus now," Urs insisted, giggling herself. "Miklos, stud-muffin in leather pants. Do you deny it?" Tracy grinned, "Nope, he's a stud muffin, no doubt about it." "That's what I thought too," Urs grinned in triumph, and, checking her make-up in the mirror one last time, headed back to the party. "See ya later Trace!" "Hey Urs!" Tracy called out. The warm and pink former vampiress looked back at her, "Yeah?" "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Tracy grinned. Urs smiled evilly, "And what -wouldn't- you do?" Tracy struck a pose, pretending to think about it, "Well, I definitely wouldn't do anything with electric cattle prods or sauerkraut..." Urs giggled, "'Kay, no German rodeo clowns, gotcha." She winked and left. Tracy giggled, then felt her stomach start to roll, "Oh hell." She mumbled, well, at least she was already in the bathroom... As Urs left the ladies' room, she scoped out the stud-muffin Miklos. "Hmm, well tonight is all about new sensations." She mumbled to herself, licking her lips, she definitely wanted to experience the whole shebang as a mortal again. Okay, sure she was -technically- using him, but, who wanted to get technical? >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>The next morning, at DP Mansion<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< The DPs and Urchins all lay around the floor and sofas of the DP Mansion parlor, trying (with the help of mucho coffee and diet cokes) to recover from last night's fabulous Ravenette Party. "Oh my head," June cradled the aching round thing on top of her neck. "Make it stop!" The Jennies, Maya, SNB, Miranda and other assorted teens too young to drink were all looking a little green around the gils as well. "Too many pixie sticks!" Andrea grumbled, rolling over and burying her face in her arms. Tracy reached for another bottle of iced coffee and rubbed it over her forehead. She didn't open it, her stomach still hadn't recovered. By the time their designated drivers had shown up, Tracy had already been in the Raven's bathroom a good twenty minutes, but other than that... they'd had a blast. Just then, the front door cracked open and Urs came stumbling in. Her sunglasses were on crooked and she looked like most of the DPs felt. "Hi guys. Oh my head." She mumbled, smiling half-heartedly and trudging through the sea of near lifeless faction member's bodies. She plopped herself down next to Tracy and leaned her head on the taller blonde's shoulder. "Had fun. Did you?" Tracy smiled, but smiling hurt, so she tried nodding, that was even less pleasant, so she just answered, "Fun, yes. Never drinking again though." Urs giggled, "Me neither. But it was fun." "Mmm, yeah I bet." Tracy closed her eyes and grinned, thinking about how good Urs's 'fun' had looked in those leather pants. Suddenly her eyes flew open, "Oh god!" "What?" Urs sat up and looked at her. Several DPs gathered enough strength to look up too. "Urs!" Tracy turned wide eyes on her friend, "You did use protection, didn't you?!" Urs frowned in confusion, then her eyes went round as saucers, "Oh crud!" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>. Bwhahahahahahaha! Cousin Mary ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fbpt-0002P1-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 07:18:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5915; Sat, 14 Aug 99 07:16:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9973; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 07:16:42 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 07:18:01 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: If it Ain't Broken, Why Fix it? 01/02 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b1c0c92f41b631d12a4559aef8791f0f NA: If it Ain't Broken, Why Fix it? 01/02 by Patt Elmore Time: Early, early morning of Sat. Aug. 14, 1999 Where: Shrine of Nunkies Follows: Much Adieu about living Un-Dead 01/01 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Patt had to admit a couple of things about the past several hours at the Shrine. #1--LaCroix knew labor. Despite the limitations of mortality, the newly undone-undead tackled the Shrine renovations with voracity. #2--Adapting to mortal life after years of being a vampire wasn't all that easy. For example: for those used to being able to fly, scaffolding was a required nuisance and balance was a learned skill. #3--Patt enjoyed power. Yep, call it a character flaw if you like, but when everyone came to her for answers to questions, she felt a streak of smugness settle in. Well, at first anyway. But, that was before they started to come to her for *everything* that went wrong, as well as right. After completing the draining and sanding of the Sacred Pond, the ex-vampires had quickly moved on to other areas of construction activity. Kriel had discussed options with Patt, and both decided that as dust fell downward, it only made sense to start at the top, and only have to clean up once. So, most of the building was now being concentrated on the second floor rooftop, which was being modified to become the base of the new third story. Of course, that made sleeping at night pretty much a non- option, as the addict bedrooms were on the second floor. This had not presented a problem as of yet, as most of the arriving addicts were too wired for sleep. They were too busy checking out the mortal vamps, excitedly talking about the construction plans and greeting old and new NA members as they arrived at the Shrine. Patt finally found a rare, alone moment and decided to go check out the original focus of the repairs--the Sacred Cold Pond. Patt looked down into the now drained basin. Talk about an anti-nunklear device--this gaping hole which had once been the source of much laughing, splashing and droolmentous moments. Patt sighed wistfully. Some ten feet below the Pond's edge, the female vampire in the bibbed-overalls was busily sorting through an assortment of tiny colored tiles. "Hey, whatcha doin down there?" the Louisiana addict called down to the ex-vampiress. The dark-haired craftswoman lifted her head and regarded the addict. "Sto preparando un mosaico per la parte inferiore del vostro stagno di Shrine. " "Errr, okay," the Third Cousin replied. The former vampire noted the addict's non-comprehension with a sniff of disgust. "How can I expect you to understand and appreciate my art if you do not even speak the language. I shall make it easy for you then, human. I have been commissioned by your superior to inlay a mosaic on the floor of your pool." "Pond," Patt corrected. "Pool," the ex-vampiress responded cooly. "Ponds are provincial and have no place in as grand a structure as you will soon reside." Patt gave the mortalized immortal a dubious look. "You aren't related to Jules, are you?" "The only jewels I would relate to were designed by a Renaissance gentleman. You've heard of rose diamonds, I would imagine?" Patt shrugged. "Sure. One of the largest rose gardens in America is located in Shreveport -- my home base." The ex-vampiress sighed. "No matter, mortal. Please, run along now. I have work to do and no time to spend on your education." She trowled a small area of floor surface with adhesive, then picked up one of the small tiles. Holding it to the work light hung above her, she examined it. "Exquisite." "But won't glass on the bottom cut our feet?" Patt protested. The ex-vampiress looked up in surprise. "I'm amazed that one of your obvious cultural deprivation would know that mosaics are often made of glass," she said. "Look, I'm used to being insulted," Patt addressed the un- undead sternly, "but usually I like to know who is doing the insulting." The dark-haired creature smiled at the addict. "My name is Validetta. I am your humble servant . . . while in the employ of your master." Patt almost retorted, then bit her lip. Maybe the well-being of the addicts was that the vampire construction folk were under the impression that the humans were the *property* of LaCroix. "Glass," Validetta continued as she pressed pieces of tile into the wet surface, "is traditionally used for walls, while marble is the material of choice for floors. And, these are the most superior tesserae that currency can purchase. Your master spared no expense in his demands that this be done perfectly." "Well, you have fun down there, putting the pieces together," Patt said, deciding it was time to move on. "I gotta go check on progress on the second floor." As Patt hurried away, she heard Validetta's quiet comment. "Persona dedita povera. Perchh LaCroix manterrebbe quei degni soltanto di lunchmeat h oltre la mia stretta." "I think I've been insulted again," Patt mumbled. "But at least I know by who now." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End 01/02 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FcRH-0000sb-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 07:57:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5967; Sat, 14 Aug 99 07:55:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0795; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 07:55:24 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 07:04:17 +0100 Reply-To: "Tracy S.Morris" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Tracy S.Morris" Subject: War:Vaqs: Incase of Mortality (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9860c50263d17251eb75684e72b036eb Incase of mortality (1/1) Time: Saturday, 8:30 a.m. Place: Vachon's church Sunlight dribbled a rainbow tattoo through the stained glass windows of the church. As the hours passed, it crept it's way down the wall, and across an ugly purple sleeping bag. As it touched the face of the woman sleeping on the bag, she rubbed her nose, and rolled away from the light. She blinked once or twice, and wondered where she was. 'Oh, that's right. I'm In a war.' Tracy Sue thought as she sat up. She blinked in confusion as all good Vaqueras are wont to do. She was still wearing her dress from the party last night. Yawning, she stretched. She twisted sideways, and was rewarded when her back popped in three different places. Images from the night before floated back to her, like jigsaw pieces in a stream, bloated beyond all hope of fitting in place again. She was positive that sometime last night she promised the Inca *something*. Beyond that she knocked back four or five Zombie beach combers. She thought she could remember falling onto the sleeping bag, and thinking that laying where she fell was good enough. The trouble was, she hadn't thought about how short her skirt really was. Looking around, she could see that most of the other Vaqueros were either too sleepy, or too drunk to care. The two males of the group, Vachon and Cliff, were suspiciously absent. Yawning again, the Vaqmommy decided to worry about it later. She stumbled through her luggage, and found her shampoo, her denim short shorts and ragged T-shirt. ******** Hours later, her hair was just drying when Stephanie came looking for her. "The Inca is here to see you." Tracy Sue looked up in mute surprise. What could he possibly want? She scratched at her holey memory again, but came up with nothing. The Inca smiled at her as she stuck her head out of the ornate wooden door. "Good morning, TS. Want some breakfast?" Tracy Sue took the McRubble's McSandwich, and tea that he offered. "Have you eaten any of this?" "No." "Good, It'll poison you." She took a long swig of the tea, and held the food away like it was radioactive. "I just don't want you going hungry while we conduct our research." The Vaqmommy nearly spit out her tea. "Research?" "Yeah, " It was the Inca's turn to look confused. "You said that you'd help me." "I did?" "Last night, at the Raven." "After How many Zombie BeachCombers?" The Inca's eyes softened like a puppy's eyes. Tracy Sue sighed. She never could cope with guilt. "Look, it's not that I don't want to help. But I have responsibilities here with my own faction." "I'm sure I could talk Javier into releasing you from those responsibilities." His eyes shifted to a spot over her shoulder. "In fact, here he comes now." Tracy Sue glanced back. Vachon and Cliff were returning from wherever they came from. "Javier!" "No! Wait!" She tried to tell him that she didn't want to be relieved of her responsibilities. But it was too late. The Inca already had Vachon's attention. "Juan!" Vachon embraced his brother. He pulled back in astonishment. "You're mortal too!" "Every Vampire in Toronto is, Brother." The Inca said. "Every Vampire?" Vachon's eyes widened. "But I thought it was just me!" "Do you know what's causing it?" Tracy Sue asked as she caught up with the Inca. "I'm not sure, but a blonde woman gave me this." He showed them the hexagonal pendant that he wore around his neck. The others gave him an astonished look. "I take it you have one as well." "I've got Fiona looking up those symbols on the 'net," Tracy Sue nodded. "We're hoping to find a way to reverse this." "Brother," He turned to Vachon. "I have other sources in the community. Might I borrow your faction leader to help look?" Vachon stared thoughtfully at Tracy Sue for a moment or two. "Sure. Mi Vaqmadre es su Vaqmadre." "What!" Tracy Sue shouted incredulously. "Thank you, Brother!" the Inca said excitedly. He took Tracy Sue's hand, and drug her away. "Wait! At least let me finish my Tea!" The Vaqmommy's protests fell on deaf ears. ******** Sometime much later than that. Tracy Sue drug herself wearily back up the steps of the Church. Rae sat on the top step, puffing on her cigarette like a dragon. "Where have you been?" She asked as she took a drag off of the cigarette. "Where haven't I been?" Tracy Sue asked as she sat next to Rae. She didn't particularly like cigarette smoke. But she wasn't just ready to go inside yet. "The Inca has contacts all over the City." "Any luck on solving the puzzle?" Rae asked with slight interest. "No," Tracy Sue said. "But that only means that he's going to drag me out again later." "If you want, you can hide in the basement." Rae suggested. "I might do that." Tracy Sue said. Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Why? Because I'm a sucker for Vachon! From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FcfT-0001HS-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 08:12:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6008; Sat, 14 Aug 99 08:10:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1257; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 08:10:03 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 08:07:15 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Cats and a Caretaker (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fb490bfc4f1ab49c238c7228d784e4f4 Title: Cousins LCL: Cats and a Caretaker (1/1) Date: Friday, August 13th Time: early afternoon By Arletta Asbury Arletta pounded for the umteenth time on the air conditioner's controls. She managed to restore its cooling breeze for just a few precious seconds before it cut off *again*. "Shelley, how long has your car been like this?" she asked in frustration. "Like what?" Arletta sighed. She was going to be so *glad* when they arrived at their new headquarters. The lawyer who had arranged things for them had promised that it was all ready for their arrival. The utilities were still 'on' and the previous owners had left enough furnishings for their small group. And he had even hired someone to look after the place for them. Which reminded her of something. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number he had given her. A few moments later she closed it again. "Well at least that's taken care of. The lady who's been looking after our headquarters will be waiting for us there when we arrive." Shelley took her eyes off the road long enough to glance at Arletta and nod, "Who did the lawyer hire anyway?" Arletta shrugged, "Her name is Madge something-or-other. She seemed real glad to be finally meeting us. ... Oh, I almost forgot, we need to swing by the cottage for a couple of minutes." "Cottage? ... Oh, you mean our old headquarters. Sure, but why?" "Ah, we need to pick up the cats. Cordelia and Edgar." Shelley looked at her as if she thought the leader had lost her mind but Arletta didn't want to explain further. After all, Shelley didn't *really* need to know that the only way Arletta had avoided a lawsuit over the damages they'd done to the cottage during the last war was to cat-sit again. ELSEWHERE!!!!! From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FcpV-0001RL-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 08:22:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0036; Sat, 14 Aug 99 08:20:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1593; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 08:20:27 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 08:22:02 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Raise the Roof (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a0270e2e0550ac3b1efc8108a48c390f NA: Raise the Roof (1/1) by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Bons, Patt, Jules, Nite, Allie, Shele, Dragon Sallie, Glennis & various Vampire Construction workers Location: NA Shrine Saturday, approaching dawn... Bonnie, who had spent very little of the past fourteen months in her box away from home sleeping, had her heart set on a wee bit o' quiet slumber. She'd bathed off the year's worth of dust (for which the other Addicts were eternally grateful), drunk a glass of warm milk, put on her babydoll jammies, then hopped into bed for at least 2000 winks. The only problem with her plan was the dozenish GROUT (the Global Round Of Undead Tradesmen) members steadily demolishing the Shrine's roof for the third floor expansion. Two huge wildebeests of wrecking slammed into her bedroom and began to sling hammers at her ceiling. Bonnie didn't take it well. "Stop it! Stop it right now!" she screamed, her voice pitched somewhere high where only tiny little bluebirds fly and bats can hear. Hulking behemoths bent of annihilation vs. petite redhead desperate for dreamland: Of course they ignored her. Very huffy, but not quite homicidal, Bonnie padded furiously out of her room, intending to take out her insomnia on Patt. Patt, however, wasn't in her own room. There were construction workers in there, too, crashing away at the plaster, but Bonnie took it as a private affront that the Third Cousin wasn't chained to her bedpost *suffering* through the calamity. Nunkies put Patt in charge of the renovations, so everything was now her fault. She was Nick by nomination. Downstairs, Bonnie was struck by the large number of addicts stretched out on bedrolls and blankies over what was left of the tiled floor. Peeking in the Billiards Room, she espied Jules managing a decent nap on top of the pool table. Her Nunkies husband pillow, instead of snuggled at her side, was clutched over the High Priestess' ears as tightly as possible while still allowing enough air in to breathe. Bonnie yanked away Jules' pillow. "How can you sleep when I'm not sleeping?! Inconceivable!" Jules blinked fuzzily, then said grouchily, "And, yet, somehow I managed." The High Priestess sighed, resigned that Bonnie wouldn't simply go away if ignored. "What do you want, Bons?" "Sleep! No more explosions or concrete showers in my room!" Jules arched one eyebrow. "That's not very reasonable. Why do you think I'm trying to rest on a pool table? The roof of my bedroom has ceased to exist. The *floor* of my bedroom has ceased to exist. We all have to suffer through this remodeling equally to enjoy the benefits." Bonnie was appalled. "You mean...*gasp*...we can't take advantage of our position as NA's leaders and dump all the inconveniences on the newer addicts????" The Scribe dropped her face into her hands. "What a world, where you can't abuse power to suit your own wicked ways and need for long naps! A five-year old has better options!" "Bons," Jules replied. "Five year-olds nap, run in sprinklers and fingerpaint all day. And what do addicts do? NA *is* kindergarten for grown-ups." "Hmph. Well, we aren't nappin'." Resigned, Jules pushed herself off the pool table. "Well, maybe there's *something* we can do as a compromise." Bons clapped her hands together. "Torment Patt!" The High Priestess clicked her tongue. "My, we are in a mood." Bons pouted, stomping one bare foot, again calling up the image of a five year-old. "I need my happy sleep!" she snapped. "Do I look happy? Noooo...I don't think so!" They proceeded through the Shrine, Bonnie stepping on all the sleeping bodies she could find, rather than tiptoeing around them politely with a social conscience like Jules. There were a few stubborn, a.k.a. wired, addicts playing a game of 'Green Light, Red Light' between the library and the main altar, only everyone kept running the red lights. Bons froze their pounding feet with a single grouchy glare, then gave them all virtual tickets for jaywalking. "Take up knitting, why don'tcha?" she grumbled. Passing through the right anteroom, they saw Shele had curled up inside a grotto the workmen had knocked into the wall earlier that morning, only to realize they had their plans turned upside down. When they moved on, Shele had decided this had to be the safest place to relax. Bonnie declared she had a desire to stick an unholy feather up Shele's nose, so Jules had to forcibly restrain Bons from snatching the dreaming Poet Laureate's Sacred Quill Pen. Jules dragged the Scribe out of the anteroom as swiftly as possible, resolving that something must be done to relieve Bonnie's spate of hot temper. In the left anteroom, they found Patt studying the construction plans in deep concentration, as if staring at them hard enough would place everything under her control. "Patt!" The Third Cousin winced at the shrieky note to Bonnie's voice. The war had barely started, and already she felt like a whupped dog who'd lost its bite. "Yeah, Red? Wanna spread some sunshine my way?" "Noooo...LaCroix put you in control of the remodeling project - I want you to control it!" Patt's sigh was long and suffering. "I didn't ask to be the boss, you know. It'd suit me silly to hand the reins over to you or Jules." Bons and Jules, knowing a rotten responsibility when they smelled it, were quick to decline. "Oh, no!" Jules insisted. "And usurp Nunkies' will?!" Bons nodded. "We must accede to his wishes." Patt looked from the High Priestess to the Scribe in disbelief. How they managed to spout such a load of balderdash with straight faces, she'd never know. Bons and Jules typically did just what they wanted, unless there was a cruel and unusual punishment sure to follow. They rarely considered the threat of Nunkies as an *intolerable* thing, so the obvious explanation was Patt's overseeing job was so bad, they considered *it* cruel and unusual punishment. The Third Cousin sighed again. "What do you expect me to do?" Patt asked. "You've seen Kriel and his locals. These is not your average union of construction workers. Even if they aren't currently vamps, they've still got the attitude, and I've still got an uncanny knack of irking that attitude." "Sooo..." Bons said, sounding deceptively confident, "you take along a six-pack for good luck. You can reason with them. I know you can. Jules and I will come along for moral support." The High Priestess started. "We will?" Jules snapped her fingers sarcastically. "Gee, I think I just lost all sense of morals. Guess that counts me out." "Juuuuu-wwwuuulllzzzzzz!" Now it was Bonnie's turn to do some dragging. It was a morose Patt who tried to interrupt the ex-vamps hammering. "Excuse me," she said, tapping Kriel on one muscle-rippling shoulder. He shrugged, mistaking Patt for a pesky fly. The Third Cousin looked at Bons and Jules, lifting her arms at either side as if to say, 'What did you expect?' Bons was a bit more confrontational. All of GROUT's hammering was *really* making her rowdy. "Hey! HEY!" she shouted. When it became apparent that the sounds of construction were drowning out her loudest shouts, Bons jumped piggyback onto Kriel, threw off his hardhat, and began poking him in the face. Sticking her mouth right in the foreman's ear, she belted, "WE WANT TO TALK!!!!" Kriel froze in mid-swing, then calmly set down his demolition hammer. Visually, the sight of Bons hanging onto his hulking form resembled the Taco bell chuihuahua taking on Cujo. Both Patt and Jules closed their eyes, afraid to witness Bonnie meeting her doom. Amazingly, there was no bloodshed. Kriel simply grabbed each of Bonnie's arms firmly by the wrists, ducked at the waist, then flipped her off his back and momentarily to her feet in front of him. He then picked up the Scribe by her waist so that her bare toes now dangled a fair meter off the floor, and held her out in Patt's direction. "This yours?" Patt scuffed one foot sheepishly, then admitted, "I'm 'fraid so." Bonnie hadn't lost her spirit yet. "See, Patt?" she confided. "I've done the irking for you. Bluto here can't help but find you delightful by comparison!" A curious frown hit the ex-vampire's features. It didn't take him any effort to shift to holding the Scribe with one hand. "What's this on the back of her -?" "Don't!" Bonnie screeched, but it was too late. Kriel had popped her air valve, and hot air rushed out of the Scribe in a rush. The construction leader chuckled with pleasure at the deflated Bonnie, causing Patt and Jules to shiver. "Nice to know I can still drain 'em." Jules stepped forward, politely holding out her arms. "If you let me have her, I'll see that someone blows her up with something cooler this time." Patt was befuddled. "Since when does Red need a bicycle pump?!?" she demanded. Jules waved a hand. "Sois tranquile. I'll just leave you to your conversation with Kriel." Kriel's look did not inspire confidence. "You wanna talk to me?" "Um, yes." Patt gulped. "I know we established your reasons for wanting to work vampire's hours, but we mortals need some compromise." Kriel glowered. "Like what?" "Like...could you do all your second floor work *before* midnight, and all your first floor work from midnight to dawn? That way, it'll be easier for us to keep out of harm's, I mean, *your* way." Kriel seemed to actually consider the Third Cousin's suggestion for a gruff minute. Finally, he growled, "Okay, I guess we could do that." Patt couldn't conceal her amazement. "You will?!" The ex-vamp shrugged. "Whatever." He signaled the other workers, who soon gathered up their equipment and headed downstairs, leaving Patt to preen with pride all alone. She was In Control! ********************************************************************** With dawning horror, Patt realized that she wasn't In Control. The Third Cousin had meandered from room to room, explaining the new arrangement with the forces of GROUT to all the addicts. All the addict, that is, except for Shele. Shele was nowhere to be found. Patt worked her way back to the right anteroom, the last place anyone had seen the poet reposing. Now, instead of a gaping hole arching over a sleeping Shele, there was newly plastered wall. Glennis was seated on the floor, blending the usual fingerpaints into fresco pigments, which she used to stain the lower third with a lovely landscape. "Glennis, have you seen Shele?" Patt asked with concern. Glennis shook her head. "Not hide nor hair." "Did you see the construction crew replace this wall?" She'd had a terrible thought. "No. It had already dried for the most part when I got back." So Patt swiftly trucked to the Sound Room, where Kriel and his team were doing scary things with a full-sized blowtorch and a chainsaw, and Sallie was cheering them on with glee. Since their last conversation, Patt had hunted down a white flag to use when she wanted the ex-vamp's attention. It seemed a lot better idea than The Bonnie Method of leaping onto a bruiser's back. The Third Cousin waved her flag. Kriel shut off his blowtorch, then lifted his safety visor. "What now?" "Err...I saw you replastered the wall in the right anteroom." Kriel emitted a medium growl. He didn't like the reminder that they'd knocked down the wrong partition. "Yeah. What about it?" "By any chance," Patt asked, trying very hard to sound calm, "was there a woman with a quill pen sleeping there when you filled in the opening?" Kriel's eyes were shards of stone. "You said the mortals would stay out of our way. We're not responsible for the ones who don't." Patt's peace flag hung limply in her grip. "You *sealed Shele up in the wall*!?!?!" Kriel aimed the nozzle of his blowtorch toward the white flag, then flared it to life. The burst of flames devoured its fabric in seconds. "My bad." Patt dropped the pole, leaving it for the ex-vamps to deal with (they were still flammable), then jogged back to the anteroom, calling for addicts as she went. "Sallie! Allie! Jules! Bons! Help! Grab hammers! Nite! Get the Sacred Drill! Glennis! Stop painting!" Glennis was already on alert when she arrived. "You know, I think we already have some Ratpackers or something in this wall. It's making strange muffled noises!" "GROUT sealed Shele up in there while she was sleeping." "Oh no!" Allie stumbled into the anteroom, lugging a hammer almost as big as she was, and caught Patt's last statement. "Oh my god! They plastered Shele! Those bastards!" ******************************************************************* Fin for now.... Continued in 'Hello. My Name is Shele' From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FdSW-0003Kt-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 09:02:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6176; Sat, 14 Aug 99 09:00:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3388; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 09:00:48 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 08:01:21 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: FoD: Let's Party like its 1999 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 916bbdb3a2d9d387c9781b477d694c27 WAR: Let's party like its 1999 By Cindy Brewer Everyone used with permission Immeaditely follow's Liz's post 'A Nother group heads for the party' "Liz! Great to see you."Cindy exclaimed as the red haired woman walked toward her. The Merc smiled in return as she dragged a small group of people with her. Cindy then noticed the brown haired woman who was wearing nearly the same outfit as Liz,"And you must be Kat." The woman nodded,"Always nice to meet another Clansib." Kathy glanced at her curiously,"Clansib?" Cindy grinned,"Another fandom I'll explain later." "Liz,you with the Nother's this war?"Cindy asked as the group moved out of the doorway. Liz nodded,"Yep,who's your troop here?" Cindy quickly introduced everyone then added,"Schanke and Myra will be here in a few minutes. They had to drop Jenny off at a sleepover." "Nice to meet both of you."Kathy stated as the rest of the FoD's spread out to mingle,"We'll be over by the bar." "Okay."Cindy replied,"I'll wait for Schanke." As if on cue Cindy heard a familiar voice from behind them. "Man oh man, check out the ladies at at this place" Schanke said, puffing out his chest and straightening the wayward hairs on his head. Liz supressed a giggle as Myra promptly slapped her husband on the shoulder. Schanke turned to face her,"I was only kidding,Myra,honest." "I know."Myra replied with a smile. Cindy stepped over to greet them,"Schanke,Myra, I'm glad you could make it." Schanke grinned,"Us miss a party? Perish the thought. Its good to see you again." Cindy nodded,"You too." "Where are the others?"Schanke said as he scanned the crowd. Cindy grinned,"Some are by the bar others are mingling." "Schanke!"Liz exclaimed as she enveloped the detective in a hug,"Its nice to see you again." Schanke grinned,"Its great to see you again too,Liz. Who's your friend?" "I'm Kat."The brown haired woman replied with a smile,"Its nice to meet you." Schanke nodded as he shook her hand,"Same here." "Its been very nice meeting all of you."Myra replied before turing to her husband,"I'm going to try to find us a table." Schanke nodded,"I'll be there in a minute."He replied kissing his wife lightly on the cheek. Liz glanced at Kat who nodded,"Well we should be taking off too. It was great to meet you,Cindy." Cindy nodded,"I'm sorry you guys have to go so soon. But it was great to meet you too." The trio split up and Cindy headed toward the bar with the sudden urge for a nice stiff drink. She had a feeling this war was going to be full of surprises and not all of them good. end From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FeHe-00047x-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 09:55:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0269; Sat, 14 Aug 99 09:53:35 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5395; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 09:53:35 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 09:54:54 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: If it Ain't Broken, Why Fix it? 02/02 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 52ef73e207972d0e0d94360102bcb88a NA: If it Ain't Broken, Why Fix it? 02/02 by Patt Elmore Time: Early, early morning of Sat. Aug. 14, 1999 Where: Shrine of Nunkies Addicts used with their permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As the evening progressed, things seemed to settle down abit, with only the occasional thump and bang as the construction continued. Of course, as the repairs got more and more into the detailed areas where decisions had to be made, Patt found herself being summoned more and more often. She had just finished arguing with a rather burley workman regarding storage area and was now on a private mission to obtain liquid strength. The Third Cousin was quite determined that nothing was going to stop her. "Hey lazy lady!" the ex-vampire, who Patt now knew was known as Sapo, called out to the addict. The mature addict turned and gave the short, rather stout ex-vamp a sullen look. "That's *liason,* Sapo. *LIASON.* Sapo smiled meekly. "Oh sorry, again. Like I said before, my English is pretty rusty. I was living in the Amazon for the past two-hundred, and I never did speak fancy when I did talk like you." "Yes, as you said several times before, you have trouble with English," Patt replied. "So, take your time and tell me what you want." Sapo shrugged. "I don't need you, Lee-a-zone. Kriel sent me to fetch you." Patt clenched her teeth. "How wonderful. Where is he?" "Second floor rooftop," Sapo said, falling into step with the now moving addict. "They fixing to put the rebars into the flooring, so they can lay the braces." "Which sounds like things are moving ahead nicely," Patt noted. "Why, then, does he need me?" Sapo shrugged. "Don't know . . . didn't ask. I just told to fetch you, and I did. Here." The ex-vampire picked up a bright orange hard hat perched conveniently at the top of the second floor landing. "You need to put this on." Patt accepted the hard hat and gave it a dubious look. "This will smush my hair." "No matter, you put it on. Kriel said you can't come up no further than this without it on." "You're not wearing a hard hat," Patt pointed out. "Like me wearing a hard hat would make a difference," Sapo snorted in reply. "Get real, lady. You think a bump on the head gonna kill me? Not unless it be a pointy beam." "Which could be arranged in the future," Patt muttered under her breath. A bit louder, she added, "I hate to remind you, Sappy, but you're as vulnerable as me to things that go bump." The mature addict pushed the offensive orange helmet down on her head and continued up the stairs, followed by the stout little ex-vamp. The pair reached the rooftop and Patt spotted Kriel. He was standing over an open area, studying the construction plans. "What's the problem now?" Patt said, walking up to the contractor. "No problem, Elmore," Kriel replied. "I needed to know which one you wanted us to start on next: running the air conditioning ducts or blowing in wall insulation?" Patt considered the choices. She decided that the insulation work might affect more addicts, especially those with allergies. Since advanced warning of such construction activity appeared to be prudent, Patt opted for the ducts. "Will do." Kriel nodded then turned to the assembled work crew. "We're gonna go for the ducts. Let 'er rip." "Rip?" Patt suddenly questioned her decision. But, before she could verbalize her questions as to what was involved, several work-vamps approached a large coffin- looking contraption on wheels. They flipped up side doors and exposed a mass of machinery and wires, the only part of which Patt could identify was a large fan. Several buttons were pushed and a loud, pounding noise filled the night air. "What the heck is that?" Patt cupped her ears and tried to shout above the deafening noise. Kriel looked at the addict and shook his head. His loss of super-natural hearing was a definite inconvenience. Patt motioned toward the behemoth piece of machinery. Kriel nodded in understanding. "Air compressor," he mouthed. "What for?" Patt mouthed back. "Jack hammers," Kriel mouthed in reply. "NO!!!!" You see, at that exact moment three things happened in unison. 1) An ex-vampire with a jack-hammer began punching a hole into the roof of the Shrine. 2) Patt realized this might not be a good idea. 3) The sun peeked over the Toronto skyline. Still being of vampiric mindframe, all of the ex-vampires atop the roof suddenly decided to dive for cover. The fellow who had been holding the jack hammer was one of those who decided seeking shelter was more important than taking care of his tools. He abandoned the still running hammer and ran to the roof edge, hopping off gracefully. *Splat* Patt turned in horror from witnessing the ex-vampire's possible demise to getting a prequel of her own. The abandoned jack hammer danced and girated over the area of roof where it had been deserted. It stood upright for a moment, then fell on its side, skittering and pounding on the surface. Patt found herself alone on the roof. She decided that the jack hammer was too big to wrestle, so opted for choice number 2-- pull the plug. The Third Cousin ran to the massive air compressor and began examining buttons. "This is worse than a darn cell phone!" she shouted above the din. Finally, she closed her eyes and pressed a large blue button. Almost immediately, water began spraying from the pulsating hammer. "Doofie dust!" Patt shouted, her attention back on the compressor's switches and dials. "Why did I take journalism in school, rather than shop?" She pressed another button and prayed. All went silent. Patt opened her eyes and looked hopefully toward the now still jack hammer. She began to smile. *Crack* Patt froze at this very minor sound of structural rending. She waited, too frightened to move. *CRACK* *SCRITTTTTTTTCH* Well, of course, the roof caved in. Patt flinched and listened as the jack hammer tore a path downward. There were several really awful tearing and ripping sounds, a couple of frightened screams and some foul language before all went quiet again. Patt moved tentatively toward the gaping hole now evident on the roof of the Shrine. Very carefully, she went as close to the edge as possible and peeped over. The High Priestess of Nunkies was standing below Patt in what was left of her bedroom. Jules stared at a large hole in her floor, then hearing noise above, very slowly lifted her eyes skyward, locking them with those of the Third Cousin. Patt knew she was dead, but maybe an act of caring would soften the tortuous end she expected. "You okay down there?" Patt called out. Jules opened her mouth as though to reply, but coughed out a large wad of choking dust debris instead. "Look at this mess!" Patt heard Supaige's voice drifting up from the first floor. "Wow, it fell all the way through two floors," Jesse marveled. "That's some awesome firepower." "Was anybody hurt?" Patt shouted down through the gaping cavity. "I'm not sure," Ivy called upward. "The bomb fell thru into the Sacred Wardrobe Room, and pretty much trashed it. I don't know if anyone was in here." *Mffttttt." Ivy, Jess, Bram and Supaige jumped back, revealing a lump of chalk-covered clothing. The lump stirred. A head covered with white-dusted reddish-brown curls appeared, shaking vigourously. Patt grimaced as the rest of the NunkMommy emerged from the garment pile, assisted by the gathered addicts. "I just get here, due to delays and shoddy pick-up directives," Annie was muttering as she slapped at her clothing, trying to loosen the grime adhering to her person. Supaige attempted to help, but Annie slapped the other woman away. "All I wanted to do was get an exquisite outfit to wear to what little remained of the Ravenette party. But, noooooooo. That would be too simple. I have to get a bomb dropped on me." "At least it didn't explode," Supaige pointed out helpfully. "WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR MY NOT GETTING TO SEE NUNKIES THIS EVENING??" Annie shouted, her cry reverberating off the walls. "Careful there," Ivy advised. "You don't want to bring the rest of the ceiling down." "I don't care about the rest of the *&^$%%^&* ceiling," Annie yelled. "I want to know who is responsible." All eyes turned upward, including Jules'. The HP coughed again, spewing dust and chalk. Bram elbowed Annie. "Need a newt?" she asked hopefully. "No," Annie said quietly, her eyes never leaving Patt. "I need a chainsaw." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End part 02/02 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 14 10:21:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FeHe-00050W-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 09:55:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6335; Sat, 14 Aug 99 09:53:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5375; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 09:53:33 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 09:54:54 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Much Adieu about living Un-Dead 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a96dad124e768695ddee2823a2f1d601 NA: Much Adieu about living Un-Dead 01/01 By Patt Elmore Time: Evening, Friday, Aug. 13, 1999 After: Renovation Reflections 1/1 Where: NA Shrine All Addicts used with the permission and enthusiastic glee ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Well, nap time was definitely over. Within moments of Kriel's announcement regarding construction plans, approximately fifteen vampire-types dressed in assorted-style workclothes *appeared* from everywhere and were swarming throughout the Shrine. They moved with swift determination, with Patt barely catching glimpses as they maneuvered past her. The Third Cousin appeared a bit miffed as a particularly muscular speciman strode by, a large bag of cement-mix hefted over his shoulder. Patt decided that action was called for. She took off after the concrete toting creature, only to be stopped in her tracks when her person began to vibrate. "Darn," she said aloud. "I forgot that I had the Shrine-commander cell phone on me." The addict removed the offending instrument from her pocket. While she stared at button options, the phone rang again. "I really hate these things," Patt announced to anyone who might be listening. "I never know which button to push, I don't know how to turn them off and they feel weird." The small cell jingled again. Finally, Patt decided on a button and pushed. She put the receiver to her ear and said, "Hello?" "Well, it's about time!" responded the rather peeved, yet hushed, voice of NunkMommy Annie. "What took you so long to answer, and what was so urgent that you cut short my vacation?" "I don't like cell phones." Patt now had a target to send her complaints to. "So you've shared with us time and time again," Annie replied with a sigh. "Now you'd better come up with something better than cell-phone phobia to make this worth my while, or I *will* have a good reason to practice my new hammer skills." "Huhh?" Patt could almost see Annie opening her mouth to respond, but then shutting it when she heard a loud *Klathunk* in the background. "What was that?" the NunkMommy asked suspiciously. "Errrrr, I think one of the workers dropped his tool chest." "Workers? Tool chest?" Annie's voice was low. "Yes!" Patt nodded, even though she knew full well that Annie couldn't see her. That is, unless technology was such that the hateful cell clutched in her hand could transmit pictures. Mental note . . . stop sticking out tongue when talking with Jules on the thing. "That's why I called you in the first place. LaCroix sent in a vampire, errrr, ex-vampire construction crew to build an addition to the Shrine. We're overrun with formerly fangy fabricators." "*Ex*-vampire?" "LaCroix came by and said that some illness had turned some of the Community vampires into mortals," Patt said hurridly. "Nunkies said he put them to work here so they'd have food and a place to stay." *Bong* *Crash* "Patt," Annie said softly. "Why did you call me with this 'Fever' rerun? Everyone knows that these things turn out okay. LaCroix isn't mortal, is he? Can't Jules or Bonnie handle this?" "Ohhhh," Patt said absently. "That must have hurt when he dropped that. Geesh. Oh, Annie!! Sorry. He picked up his tools wrong and dropped a saw on his toe." "Jules . . ." Annie kept her voice calm. "Let me talk to Jules." "Jules is incommunicado at CERK," Patt quickly replied. "And Bons is incommunicado at . . . wherever Bons is." "Have you tried Bons' beeper?" A short pause. "Bons has a beeper?" "Never mind, Patt. I'm on my way. Can you possibly control things until my plane touches down? Just have someone meet me at the airport at 10 p.m., okay?" "Sure thing, Anniebug! Thanks!!" Conversation finished, Patt pushed the *send* button, then cursed, hit the *end* button and returned the offending cell phone to her pocket. She caught sight of a female worker in bib overhauls, pushing a portable mixer. "Hey, there. Wait a minute. I have some questions . . ." A sudden loud clarion wail startled the addict. She reached for the cell phone again, but stopped short when she realized it was the Shrine alarm system alerting her to an unauthorized entry. Patt quickly checked the intruder board and found the trespasser's location. Whoever it was, they had entered the Shrine through the stable-alley entry way and were coming up the hall. Patt set her course for interception, grabbing a shovel from one of the constructo-vamps as she went. As she did, she noticed an embroidered patch on the workman's shirt pocket: GROUT. The Third Cousin's eyes flew open wide in terror. "Jules send you?" "Only jewels I'm familiar with are the ones I pilfered back in the great heist of 1849," the bearded vampire grinned. He looked up, caught sight of Kriel watching him, then gave the addict a nod. "We'll *talk* later if ya want more details." Patt stared at the departing ex-vampire, then she remembered the intruder alert. Patt swiftly changed course and headed back toward the hallway leading to the alley entrance. *GONG* Another intruder alert chimed out--this time announcing an arrival at the kitchen/lab door. As big and capable as she was, Patt couldn't be in two places at once. Displaying true leadership ability, she planted herself in position, shovel in hand, and waited for the invaders to arrive. Simultaneously, through opposite entrances, Caren and Christy entered the main alter room. Caren, laden with traveling gear, came through the kitchen/lab's swinging door. She almost tripped over a coil of rope, stumbling slightly and cursing a lot. Christy, resplendent in large black mouse ears and disheveled traveling clothes, began to laugh aloud. "Not funny," Caren said, glaring at the newer addict. "Yes it is," Christy replied. "You just arriving?" Caren said, noting the other woman's appearance. "Where is your luggage?" Christy immediately sobered. "On the way to Florida," she said mournfully. Then she gave the other addicts a hopeful look. "Anyone want to advance me a clothing allowance?" Before Patt or Caren could reply with negative answers, one of the construction crew bolted between the women, headed for the west wing of the Shrine. Caren and Christy reacted with a start, while Patt just hung her head and shook it. "What was that?" Caren asked, once she'd recovered her shock. "That was a vampire," Patt replied. Then she corrected herself. "A mortalized vampire." "In the SHRINE?" Christy and Caren chimed in horror. "Yep," Patt nodded. "LaCroix has ordered that the Shrine be enlarged and renovated. He's hired Community builders to do the job." "What is going on?" A new voice joined the discussion. Patt, Caren and Christy turned to see Jennifer coming down the stairs. "I'm upstairs trying to get ready for supper and hear all this clanging and clattering and shouting and stuff. Scared my poor cats witless." "We have maybe-vampires in the Shrine," Caren informed Jennifer. Jennifer grinned. "And this is a *bad* thing?" Christy and Caren looked at each other, thought a moment, then grinned back at Jennifer. Dee, Supaige and Jesse burst into the altar room from the anteroom hallway. "There's some really weird-looking guys in coverlets, fixing to bring heavy equipment in through the alley entrance," Dee announced. "They kind of look like vampires, but not," Supaige observed. At that exact second, two of the newer addicts, Bram and Ivy, raced into the main alter room, both clad in fluffy peach bathrobes. "They're draining the pond!" Ivy cried out, her green eyes brimming with tears. "Yes," Bram added. "Draining it dry and fixing to pour cement into it." The Pagan addict gave the Third Cousin a hopeful look. "Need one of them changed into a newt?" "NO!" Patt shouted above the general din of addict fervor. "No newts. No one does *anything* without my approval. Nunkies put me in charge of overseeing this construction, and I will oversee it. Got that?" Eight addicts stared, then slowly began to nod. "Okay then," Patt said triumphantly. "Let me go check on things while you ladies settle in." The Third Cousin started toward the west wing, but stopped short when one of the other addicts announced. "I don't know if this will make a difference, Boss Patt, but did you know that War has been declared?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End 01/01 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ffaz-0006ng-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 11:19:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8829; Sat, 14 Aug 99 11:17:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8472; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 11:17:24 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 11:16:18 -0400 Reply-To: Caroline Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Caroline Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Dubious Weapon: 01/01: Aug. 13, around 1 AM To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: def9e22a5539296a1f3f7ea8d56f3988 Title: Doubious Weapon Date: Aug. 13 Time: 1 AM or thereabouts by Caroline LaRoche, who does not own rights to any singers or songs used in this post. She'll live. She doesn't own Kathy either, but they're in cahoots. The party was off to a great start. All of the factions had arrived and were enjoying themselves with their respective vampires...or however you want to refer to them. Sky was currently pounding through the sound system, and the crowd gyrated along to it. "Great party," Kathy said to Caroline (the original Mikie and co-DJ). "Yeah, so when do we get to torture people?" "Let's let them have their fun. Nothing bad has happened _yet_." "Honey in the booth?" "Oh yeah. Um, we'll give them some Chris Isaac for that." Caroline smiled an evil smile and pulled out her CD. The languid strains of "Heart-Shaped World" filled the Raven. At least half of the attendees clapped hands over their ears and crumpled to the floor. "That worked. Wanna just revenge everyone now, before they have a chance to do anything?" "And abuse our power? Hell yeah!" Kathy pulled out some vintage Madonna, and Caroline found some obscure Bon Jovi (she wasn't punishing _herself_, after all) and Ace of Base (according to her brother, only a slightly better alternative to being torn apart by crazed weasels). "Wait a minute," the younger girl looked concerned, "what about...?" She gestured toward the bar, where a now-mortal Miklos was making a face while attempting to serve drinks. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot, I got him these," Caroline pulled a set of earplugs out of her pocket. "Considering he's not a vampire anymore...." A thoughtful look crossed the young woman's face. "You know, if he's mortal, that means he can...um...." "Participate in activies which can't be mentioned on a PG-13 list?" Kathy smiled. "Better move quick, the DPs and Urchins are getting pretty drunk and both blondes are eyeballing him." "In those pants, can you blame them?" Caroline went dreamy for a second before she snapped out of it. "No!! He's mine!! I'm the faction mommy!!" With that, she took off over to the bar, neatly elbowing Urs and Tracy out of her way and smiling wickedly at Miklos (who looked like he'd died and gone to heaven for all the attention he was getting; he'd have to wear leather more often ). Kathy turned to the CDs. There was bound to be more good ammo in there somewhere...and they wouldn't know what hit them when once...she smiled. She had also found a tape of Caroline's latest voice lesson. At 9:30 AM. The girl was not a morning person. This would be fun. From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FfsQ-0004YL-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 11:37:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0531; Sat, 14 Aug 99 11:35:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9658; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 11:35:42 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 11:26:58 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA: Don't Leave the Shrine Without It (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 90ac2ef2e897f0ba2cba7226e4d240f4 TITLE: Don't Leave the Shrine Without It (1/3) AUTHORS: Patt Elmore and Christy Stillman TIME: Saturday, August 14, 1999 FOLLOWS: If It Ain't Broken, Why Fix It? (2/2) NOTES: All addicts used by permission. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Still grousing over the unavailability of clean clothing, Christy entered the main Shrine altar room, intent on venting her anger to the *Construction Liaison.* "Where's Patt?" Christy growled, approaching Glennis, who unfortunately was in her path. The California addict looked thoughtful, then pointed toward the kitchen/lab. "I think she went in there to help Supaige and Caren get some food for the builders," Glennis said. "Patt's having a hard time convincing the former vamps that there's more to life than blood. You heard what happened to Jesse this morning, didn't you?" "I'm really *not* interested," Christy fumed, changing direction and heading toward the swinging doors. "I have something important to discuss with Ms. Third Cousin, and I don't care how busy she is, trying to placate a bunch of ex-vamps." Watching Christy stalk off, Glennis began to smile. "This outta be good," the short blonde murmured aloud and quickly took off after the other addict. As Glennis pushed the kitchen/lab doors open, she spied Christy addressing the mature addict. "There's dirt and grime all over the spare wardrobe stuff," Christy was griping. "I have nothing to wear, and these incompetent workmen are to blame." "Caren, we need more sweet pickles and catsup," Patt said to the other Louisiana addict. Without looking up at the Pensacola native, Patt continued. "Have you called the airport to check on your clothes, Christy?" "They'll be here tomorrow, but that doesn't help me TODAY!" Christy spat. "What am I supposed to do about underwear, for heaven's sake?" "Sink?" Caren looked up and smiled sweetly. Christy shot the other addict a dirty look. "Look, Christy, I sympathize with ya, but I kinda got my hands full at the moment," Patt said, holding up a loaf of rye bread in one hand and sour dough in the other. "Don't you have enough cash on you to buy some briefs until your suitcase gets here?" "Grumble, grumble." "Life's tough all over," Patt said, sympathy oozing from all her pores. "Like, after I finish this up and make sure the vamps are fed, I gotta run these errands for Jules, mail a letter asking for a replacement tax exempt status certificate, go get my glasses adjusted AND, if I have time, I gotta go chase down some *blush* cushions. When am I supposed to take care of all that, I ask you?" "I really feel for you," Christy said sarcastically, then felt bad the moment the words had left her lips. "Really, Patt, I'm sorry. Is there any way that I can help you out?" Patt looked up in surprise. "Well, yes . . . if you don't mind. You could take Jules' errands and do as much of that as you can. You'll need some cash, I guess, so here, take this." Christy smiled warmly and accepted the list, along with Patt's extended Platinum card. "Thanks for the help, Christy," Patt said, returning her attention to the sandwiches. "While you're out, you can charge a three-pack of undies to my account." "No problem and thank you," Christy continued to smile. With her back to Patt, the addict's expression turned sneaky. Glennis followed Christy out of the room, trailing her like an eager puppy. "You're up to something . . . I know it." "Moi?" said Christy with an innocent look, which immediately turned into a most wicked grin. "Oui, vous," Glennis replied, "and whatever it is you have in mind, you'd better not even *think* about leaving the other two-thirds of the Three Nunketeers out of it!" "Perish the thought! Come on. Let's go find Dee," Christy chortled as they made their way through the dust and confusion of the Shrine renovation. They finally located their dark haired compadre behind a plant in a corner, from which cover she was surreptitiously shining a laser pointer down low on the wall in front of one of the once- fanged craftsmen. Like most of the other immortality-challenged construction workers, he was a work of art seemingly carved from alabaster. To put it simply, the man was a hunk. When he bent to investigate the red dot on the wall, all three addicts sighed dreamily at the sight of the tight two-bun salute with which they were presented. "Dee," Christy whispered, eyes still glued to the splendors of the full moon before them. "We're going on an errand for Patt." "What? And leave all *this*?" Dee pouted, gesturing toward the now-mortal worker. "Why can't the Third Cousin run her own durn errands?" "She's busy coordinating the renovations and trying to feed our new fellow mortals," Glennis answered. She made a "why did you have to go and do that" face at Dee, who had snapped off the laser pointer, causing her current object of lust to rise from his examination of the wall and head off down the corridor. "Besides, she gave us *this*." The platinum card suddenly appeared in Christy's hand. Years of practice with plastic had lent her an almost Houdini-like skill of sleight-of-hand at the tucking away and rendering forth of credit cards. Dee's face lit up with a smile which only the sight of a small rectangle of plastic containing a magnetic information strip could produce. "What are we waiting for? The Three Nunketeers ride again!" As the group fell into step, passing addicts and construction workers alike moved aside in trepidation at the evil grins on their faces. Linking arms, The Three Nunketeers cried out, "One for all and all for Nunkies!" and headed out of the Shrine. From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FgsC-0002rS-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 12:41:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6890; Sat, 14 Aug 99 12:39:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2932; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 12:39:27 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 12:40:53 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: We Arrive at the New Headquarters (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 290ac49aaa075c5ea2663e5854796991 Title: We Arrive at the New Headquarters (1/1) Authors: Cousin Shelley and Arletta Asbury Date: Friday, August 13th Time: Around 6pm DISCLAIMER: Madge is a fictional character created by us, and we gave ourselves permission to use her. Pulling up to the front of the old stone structure, Shelley parked near what looked like the front door. = "Well, I guess this is it?" she said, looking at Arletta doubtfully. "It's the right address, and it *does* look like it could have been = a monastery at one time", Arletta answered. Both of them climbed out of the van to take a closer look. The = window panes were dirty, the grass was uncut, the weeds were growing up to the windows, and there was a very hopeful looking woman = standing on the front step. = The woman appeared to be in her 40's, on the short side, and = wore a shirt proclaiming she was a volunteer for the Historical Society. = "Hello!" she called out to the two women. "Are you the new owners?" "Well, yes", Arletta responded. "Wonderful! My name is Marge and I've been taking care of the place since it was sold. As you can see," she said, pointing to her shirt, "I am an UNPAID volunteer for the Historical Society. Unpaid, you understand?" She looked at both the women for some glimmer of understanding, but saw none. "Well, here are the keys then and the historical brochure with all the information you will need. Study it, the next tour group will = arrive at 3pm. Bye now!" With that, she dashed to a small car on = the side of the building and drove away faster than would be = considered safe by most standards. "What was THAT all about?" Shelley asked under her breath, watching the car disappear in a cloud of dust. "Tour Group???" Arletta asked of no one in particular. "WHAT tour group??" From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FhUP-0002yB-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:21:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0855; Sat, 14 Aug 99 13:18:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4541; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:18:58 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:20:52 -0400 Reply-To: Emma Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Emma Subject: War: Vaq: Will the Real Vachon Please Stand Up? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0171e9844f304d8c95149fee49648d65 Title: Will the Real Vachon Please Stand Up? By Emma Lighton Time: August 14, Sometime in the early afternoon "Felicia, have you noticed anything odd about Vachon?" She turned to find Emma standing behind her, with a worried expression on her face. "Besides being mortal?" "That too. I heard he doesn't want us attacking anyone." "So. He's on the receiving end enough to want to stay out of it." "Why tell us about the war then?" It was a good question, and Felicia couldn't think of a logical explanation. Then she caught sight of the box in Emma's hand. "What's that?" She pulled on the video tape until she could read the title. 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers.' "Umm, just doing some research." "It's fiction. That couldn't happen in reality!" "No, but this is a war. What if it isn't really him?" Emma's expression looked so earnest that Felicia had to cover a laugh. She did have a point, strange things happened in wars. "How do you plan to find out?" "Glad you asked. I need your help." Emma handed her some blank slides. "I want to get a blood sample." "'Vachon, we think you're a pod person, can we have a blood sample?' I don't think he'll go for it." Felicia pointed out. "No problem. Just be ready to catch some blood, and run." "Run?" Felicia gave her a dubious look, but Emma grabbed her arm and pulled her towards where Vachon was sitting, stroking his cat. Carmicita noticed the two women approaching, jumped from Vachon's lap, and fled. The Vaqs hadn't been here long, but she'd quickly figured out when there was going to be trouble. Vachon wasn't quite as astute when it came to his followers. He gave the two women a curious look as they came to a stop in front of him. "Vachon, want to see a trick?" Emma asked, the most innocent look she could manage plastered on her face. "Sure." "Okay first close your eyes." He started to follow the instruction, then noticed Felicia moving cautiously to one side. Vachon's gaze shifted suspiciously between the two of them. "Nothing will happen to you, scouts honor." Emma assured him. Reluctantly, his eyes closed. "Now hold out your hand." His right hand came up, and Emma took hold of it firmly, as Felicia moved the slide into place. "Ouch!" Vachon yelped as a lancet jabbed into his finger. A blood drop hit the middle of the slide, and Felicia quickly sandwiched it. Then, tossing a band-aid in Vachon's general direction, they fled. * * * * * "You realize you just gave scouts a bad name." "That's okay, I never joined them." Emma muttered peering at the slide intently through a microscope. "Anything interesting?" "Blood." Felicia rolled her eyes and pushed her way in for a look. It didn't look strange in anyway she could see. "I think we really need something to compare this to." "I was just thinking the same thing. You think all vampires keep convenient blood samples in the fridge?" Emma looked hopeful. "No." "I guess we'll have to search then." "Search where?" She had a good idea where Emma meant, but Felicia wanted her suspicions confirmed. "Vachon's room. Where else?" "He's not going to be happy about this." * * * * * They peered under the bed, scoured the debris, and had finally started pawing through the belongings that Vachon cared enough to store somewhere, when they became aware that they were being watched. Both of them turned to find Vachon staring at them. His expression told them, that he clearly thought they'd lost their minds. "What are you looking for?" Emma looked to Felicia for support, and received a look that said, this was your cockamamy idea, you tell him. "Uh, giant peapods and strange bodies." "Giant peapods?" "And strange bodies." Vachon stared at them both for a long moment. Blink, blink. Then gave them both a confused look that was so utterly Vachon, that they both recognized it instantly. This was definitely the real thing. "Vachon! It really is you!" Emma yelled in relief, as she threw her arms around the befuddled vampire. "It's such a relief." When she released him, Felicia stepped up and hugged him too. Not because she'd actually had much doubt, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Then they headed back upstairs. As they reached the top, Felicia turned to Emma. "You realize we just wasted a good part of the afternoon?" "Not really, we did find out something important." "That he's really Vachon. Okay, that should put some people at ease." "Besides that." Emma pulled a piece of fabric from her pocket. "We found out what kind of underwear he wears." The End --- Emma (egl@operamail.com) Vaquera * T+VPack * DP heretic * War 9 Vet. "You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought." -- Star Wars http://members.tripod.com/lostshadows/main.html From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FhWv-0006dk-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:23:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7042; Sat, 14 Aug 99 13:21:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4674; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:21:34 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:24:11 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: What's That? (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7458b707fe43976310e61a17aedf6efe Title: Cousins LCL: What's That? (1/1) Date: Friday, August 13th Time: In the late afternoon/early evening just after "We Arrive at the New Headquarters (1/1)" By Arletta Asbury Just as Arletta was about to open the front door of their new HQ she paused. "What?" Shelley asked, nearly bumping into the leader. "I just remembered something." At Shelley's quizzical look, Arletta added, "the cats..." They retraced their steps and found the two black and white cats looking at them reproachfully thru the van's side window. A silent "meow" emanated from the one named Cordelia. "I think maybe they want to go inside with us." "Cmon," Arletta said addressing the cats and scooped Edgar up. Shelley did the same with Cordelia and the four of them headed toward the building's entrance. After unlocking the front door, they found themselves in what must have been a foyer or small reception area. Now it contained only a couple of straight wooden chairs positioned side by side along one wall and a small table along the opposite wall. After Arletta and Shelley deposited the squirming cats on the floor, both of the cats headed for the open doorway at the end of the foyer without a backward glance at the two women. Shelley examined the items on the table. "This looks like more copies of that historical brochure." "What's that," Arletta asked pointing to a wooden box with a slot carved on its top and a 3x5 index card taped below. "A donation box?" Shelley scrutinized text printed on the index card and found a notice that stated 'Donations for the building's upkeep are appreciated'. "Ummm ... yeah that's what it is." Meanwhile Arletta was scanning one of the brochures and discovered that tours of the monastery were offered for a modest fee. "Uh, Shelley, I really should look around now. Why don't you just ... ahhh ... glance thru this brochure." Shelley gave Arletta a suspicious look before asking, "Why?" "Oh ... just to ... ah ... learn a little for the ... *about* ... about the new headquarters," she said in her best imitation of a used car salesman. From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fho9-0005Qm-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:41:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9335; Sat, 14 Aug 99 13:39:15 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5414; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:39:15 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 10:43:45 -0700 Reply-To: Kyer en Ysh Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kyer en Ysh Subject: It's War: A Poem For The War Factions (1of 1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 90d4905e17155671a996807a54991dbc Sony/Tristar own Forever Knight. Paramount owns Star Trek. My Personalities own me. It's War: A Poem For The War Factions (1of 1) by Kyer en Ysh kyer@prodigy.net (but not accepting e-mail between 8/17 to 9/2) ____________________________ So Nick has made the mortal scene? But all is not quite as it seems, for he is only back across, to experience its loss. Alien Cardassians plot a game he cannot win: This mortality were told will deplete when two-weeks old. What kind of a War is this? Where vampires lose their precious gifts? And we, all mortals, must do search so they won't be left in the lurch? Cousins, Vaqs, Packers, and Knighties, Addicts, Unnamed, Darks and Lighties, This is not the time for pranks, just to irk the others ranks! You have only two-short weeks to rejoin those missing Links. Yeah, I know... I'm one to talk. (Me, who loves LaCroix to mock...) But I'll be gone to tourist spots, while ye, amigos work out plots! ******************************* Time for me to vacate the War posts-- got RL stuff to take care of. Have fun guys. But if I come back to find LaCroix still mortal and at the mercy of a vampiric Nick.. (hehehe) Oh Well! Grinning at the thought of *that*, Kyer, the Paranoid Schitzoid Knightie From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fi22-00046d-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:55:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0971; Sat, 14 Aug 99 13:53:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5978; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:53:45 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 17:34:26 -0500 Reply-To: treeleaf@IO.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Margie Hammet Subject: WAR: Nothing Much Happened on the Way to Toronto, And Now... (1 of 1) Friday Morning To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d0df6b7397089c00bac950d8c037fd64 War: Nothing Much Happened on the Way to Toronto, And Now... Morgaine and Lisa, CotK co-leaders, arrive. (1 of 1) Written by: Morgaine, with Lisa, Margie, and the CotK Time: Friday morning, August 13, After "Inka Flight One aka Kyer's arrival in Toronto" Begins a little before "Comfy Is As Comfy Does" and then runs concurrently with it ___________________________________________________________ Lisa expertly maneuvered her car on the unfamiliar roads, wondering if her colleague and passenger was as nervous as she about the upcoming war. Seeing as how Morgaine was softly but gleefully bouncing on the adjacent seat, it seemed unlikely. "Okay, Morgaine, it's right down the next road, right?" "Um..." The red-haired teen stared blankly at the upside down map she held. "Turn here! Turn here!" "'Kay, I see it". The two stared in awe at the enormous structure that loomed over them as Lisa parked the car. Morgaine smiled with satisfaction - the seemingly straw roof was wonderfully old-fashioned, and the moat added a certain picturesque, faerie-tale touch. Plus, the place was huge. What fun she and her Space Chickens could have here! Lisa adjusted her headband and looked over her surroundings. Strange, she thought, that a place so near the center of a big city was so quiet. And what was with Morgaine? She looked as though she was planning assault and defense strategies already...and her fervent assertions that she'd fought in Vietnam was causing Lisa some concern. First a multi-personality eccentric Knightie, now a delusional one. Complete with alien poultry. Lisa unlocked the door as Morgaine wrestled the car trunk for their luggage. Peering into the Cottage, they could see outlines of the living room furniture and the CotK banner over the fireplace. Quickly the two put their baggage in their rooms, which they found to be quite satisfactory. Lisa suggested they explore their home for the next two weeks. Morgaine joked that it probably wouldn't take that long. Then she agreed whole-heartedly. After a quick visit to feed the Space Chickens, who took quite well to Lisa (jumping on a person's head is a Space Chicken's way of showing affection) Morgaine and Lisa decided to investigate the basement. As they descended the stairs, the two girls were amazed at the technology that spread out before them. "Wow," Lisa whispered. "Does J.L. work for NASA or what?" A groan came from out of view, followed by a woman's voice. "Don't tell me you want to go to the moon. That's slightly beyond me." "J.L.?" "Who else?" As they moved further, the co-leaders found J.L. sitting in the midst of all the technological gadgets. She was pressing buttons and working with the machinery as calmly and confidently as if she were simply operating a toaster. She looked up at her faction-mates, and a warm smile crossed her serious face. "Hi, guys. Who's who?" "Morgaine." "Lisa." "Nice to meet ya both. You wanna help?" Lisa looked at Morgaine, and then turned back to J.L. "Um...I think we'll leave this to you. You're the expert." J.L. chuckled. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Well, it might. Anyone else here?" "I thought I heard someone upstairs just now, but I hear stuff all the time," answered a grinning Morgaine. "No fun being delusional otherwise. Like a movie without a soundtrack. Or apple sauce without ketchup." J.L. looked blankly at Morgaine. *Hmm,* she thought. *Clearly insane. And she's one of my self-proclaimed biggest fans. I hope those two things are unrelated. Well, a little insanity never hurt anyone. Except in "Crazy Love", of course.* Lisa spoke up. "Don't worry...she's always like this. She spent the entire ride up here trying to have a meaningful conversation with her seat belt." "Um...okay. I'm gonna test the security system now, okay?" "Kewl! Will there be flashing lights and warning signs and trained monkeys with baseball bats?" joked Lisa. *Oh, no. Both of them.* "Er, no. Just a loud noise. Ready?" Lisa and Morgaine nodded. "Okay." Suddenly, a loud alarm sound filled the Cottage. Morgaine shrieked, "Air raid! The missiles are coming!" She dove under a nearby table, dragging Lisa after her. J.L. shook her head and turned the alarm off. "Okay. The system is all ready to go." "Go where?" Lisa stood and brushed herself off. "Nowhere, Morgaine. Okay, I am *sure* I heard a scream from upstairs...another arrival, I guess. We must've caught her off guard." "Oh, no!" Morgaine ran to the stairs. "C'mon!" "Go with her, Lisa," suggested J.L. "I'll use the intercom to inform our new arrival of what just happened. If she's still concious, that is. I think it's Margie." "Okay." As Lisa followed Morgaine, she found she could not stop smiling. 'Air raids'. Space Chickens. A basement that looked like the starship Enterprise. And the war hadn't even really begun yet. Lisa was suddenly very glad she came. From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fi9Q-0004Ms-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:03:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7169; Sat, 14 Aug 99 14:01:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6618; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:01:18 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:02:34 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Tour Guides are Us (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d981e5cee7d76b0d0a582772387c961f Title: Tour Guides are Us (1/1) Author: Shelley , with permission of all mentioned Date: Friday, August 13th Time: Late Afternoon, Early Evening. = Just after "What's That? (1/1)" "Shelley, it'll be fine!" Arletta said in her most soothing voice. "All you need to do is study this little, tiny pamphlet and lead a bunch of = people around. It'll take 5 minutes, *really*" she continued, a slight = gleam showing in her eyes. "Well, okay, I guess", Shelley answered reluctantly. "Are you *sure* = you can't help?" "I need to go check out the rest of the place and see what condition it's in", she replied. "I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise" she continued, shoving the pamphlet into Shelley's hand. As she walked down the long hallway, Arletta heard Shelley grumbling as she opened the pamphlet. "Whew, got out of that one" she said to = herself, idly wondering how she would manage to get out of giving the = next tour. --------=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D*********=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D-------- Sitting on an old, torn chair in one of the parlors, Shelley was = attempting to understand why anyone would want a tour of the place. Looking around at the dusty, dirty walls and floors, she wasn't = having much luck figuring it out. Even the furniture, what little = there was of it, was mostly falling apart and coated with a thick = layer of dust. When the doorbell rang, she jumped, dislodging one of the cats from = her lap. "Oh drat, they're here" she whined to herself. She hadn't = even had time to finish reading the dreaded pamphlet on "Architectural = Styles of Eastern Canada" yet. Oh well, she would just have to muddle = through. "H-h-hello and, uh, w-welcome!" she said as she eyed the group waiting at the door. She led the small group of seven into the foyer area, = vaguely wondering what to do next. The leader of the group, a young woman of about 20 or so, said "We all are Architectural students at the University of Toronto. Needless to say, we are very excited to be here!" "Oh, what an exquisite example of this style!" one of the women at the = back exclaimed. There were murmurs of approval from the others, as they spread out to the adjoining rooms to examine every detail. Shelley wandered around behind some of them to the dining room trying in vain to see just *what* it was that was so exciting to them. She failed to see much other than dirt and dust. Amid the ooh's and ahh's, Shelley peeked at the pamphlet behind her back.= "Yes", she ventured, "this is the first use of this style in all of = North America". The members of the tour group glanced up, most smiling. "When was it built?" one of the younger looking men asked. = "Uhhhh, well, let's see....." Shelley stalled, hoping for a small diversi= on or miracle, whichever came first. Feeling suddenly inspired, she coughed= = several times and managed to croak out "something in.....throat, b= e back......in a sec...". Running into one of the parlors next to t= he foyer, she searched the pamphlet for a date, or anything that would help.= = As she searched, she coughed loudly several times in case anyone was = keeping track back in the foyer or adjoining areas. = --------=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D*********=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D-------- Slipping in the door and through the foyer of the new Light Cousin = headquarters, Annette saw Shelley sitting in the next room. As she = approached, she noticed Shelley was coughing and staring intently at = some pamphlet with a scowl. Happy to see some of the others were = already here, she walked towards her. "Shelley, are those new recruits?" Annette asked pointing a couple of = the members of the tour group assembled in the foyer. "And, um, what = are you doing?" "Giving a tour..." Shelley answered with a tight lip. "Oh, umm...why?" she asked wondering what could possibly have brought = this on. "Because Arletta is busy." Shelley answered with an even tighter lip. "Oh. Maybe you didn't understand my ques..." "You're giving the next one! I suggest you familiarize yourself with = this." Shelley stated very definitely as she tossed a brochure at her = and stormed away. Staring at the brochure Annette gasped and yelled, "Arletta!!!" --------=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D*********=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D-------- Shelley had found what she was looking for finally, and headed, rather = over-confidently, back to the tour group. This was going to be easy, she thought, not much to remember after all. Just the era it was built in, and some silly architectural term. = "There, that's better", she said as she came back into the foyer. "Now, = back to the tour", she smiled. "This building was built in the 19th = century and is one of the finest examples of Isometric Panting there is".= = As the words left her mouth, her brain registered a vague feeling of = impending doom. 'What was that architectural term again?' she wondered t= o = herself. = Suddenly, Shelley's brain registered something new...snickers. 'Uh oh', = she thought, 'I said it wrong...now WHAT was it?' She was close to panic= = at this point, searching her mind for the elusive term. "Asymmetric Cantoning? Barometric Hammering? Atmospheric Bantering??" = Her voice grew higher and less self-assured with each guess, and the snickers= were now turning into loud laughter. Turning a nice, deep shade of red, she stammered out "E-e-electromagnetic R-r-ranting??" The laughter got loude= r. One woman had tears in her eyes from laughing so hard, and the younger ma= n who had asked the age of the building looked like a prime candidate for a= = stroke if he laughed any harder. Fearing the health risks for the members of the tour, and knowing that Arletta would *not* be happy if she was responsible for the demise of one or more of them, Shelley found a pamphlet on a nearby shelf and skimm= ed over it in quiet desperation. "Ah ha!" she exclaimed, pointing to two of= = the printed words. "Asymmetric Kanting!!" --------=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D*********=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D-------- Arletta had the misfortune of walking back into the foyer just as the gro= up was leaving. Most of the members were still laughing hysterically and = pointing at Shelley. Arletta even noticed that Edgar, one of the cats = they were cat sitting, had an amused look on his face. "Uh, went well?" Arletta asked, hoping and praying she was right. "NO!" Shelley yelled, and stormed out of the room muttering "Asymmetric Kanting...whoever heard of THAT?" Arletta wanted to ask what had happened, but thought better of it and wen= t back to examining the contents of the building. From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FiI8-0005u8-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:12:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7188; Sat, 14 Aug 99 14:10:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6908; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:10:24 -0400 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 16:51:59 -0500 Reply-To: treeleaf@IO.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Margie Hammet Subject: WAR: Comfy Is As Comfy Does (1 Of 1) Friday Morning To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c7a25c278e8118e2ebde0cbaaa4312a3 War: Comfy Is As Comfy Does (1 of 1) Written by: Margie Hammet Time: Friday morning, August 13, Begins a little after the beginning of "Nothing Much Happened on the Way to Toronto and Now..." and then runs concurrently with it ________________________________________________________________________ As she looked at the house in front of her, Margie began to wish she had accepted Lisa's offer to pick her up at the airport, rather than taking the bus on her own. This appeared to be the address Morgaine had given her, but Morgaine had described it as "a comfy cottage," and this place looked much too big. She thought about the bridge she'd just crossed to get up to the house. She'd had the sense she was crossing a drawbridge over a moat. Somehow, that didn't seem very comfy. In fact, it was downright disquieting. Still, there was something about the house that was reminiscent of those pictures of cottages in kid's books, although Margie couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. Was that a straw-thatched roof? Couldn't be. Surely that would be against the building codes. She looked at it again, and realized it wasn't really straw, although someone had done a good job of making it seem almost like it. Looking at the house again, she caught sight of the sign above the front door. "The Comfy Cottage", it read. "Ahh! This must be the place," Margie said, relieved, and went in. Not finding anyone downstairs, Margie decided to go upstairs and look for the room Morgaine had said would be hers. Pushing the door open she saw a lovely room. "Oh, this is really pretty," she said, as she looked at the bed with the rose-colored quilt on it. The quilt had a pattern of, well, roses. The colors were muted, and it looked soft. She looked around happily at the rustic-looking table and dresser and the comfortable chairs. Putting her baggage down, she went over to the window and pulled aside the lace curtains. Outside, she saw red and white striped roses, little white flowers that she thought might be edelwiess, black currant bushes, and ... a chicken coop? Would they really have time to tend chickens during a war, she wondered. Oh, well, maybe it had been left by the previous owners. She hadn't actually seen any chickens in it. Margie decided not to worry about it, and instead went over to the mirror above the dresser. She took our her comb and brush to try to fix her hair a bit after all the travel. At forty-eight, her hair was dark brown with natural highlights in it. Granted, they were gray and white highlights, but at least they were natural! And Hubby was sweet enough to agree that they were highlights. She felt bad about leaving Hubby for two weeks. She knew if he went somewhere for that long, she would just hate it. But it was the first war the Cousins of the Knight was participating in, and she felt she had to be there. She knew she'd miss Hubby badly, though. After cleaning up, Margie went downstairs again. Still seeing no one, she decided to go outside and investigate that chicken coop. She jumped over a little creek in the backyard that ran to a small pond, and walked over to the small, fenced-in yard that surrounded the chicken coop. She still didn't see any chickens. Oh, there! She suddenly saw one. A chicken with a party hat, perched to the side on its head, was running around in the yard. "How adorable," she said. As Margie was considering trying to pet the chicken, it suddenly disappeared. "How odd," she thought. "Oh, wait a minute, there it is!" The chicken came running around the side of the coop. But no, it couldn't be the same one. This one had flowers on its head instead of a party hat. Then it, too, disappeared. "My, chickens come and go so quickly around here," said Margie. Realizing that she wasn't going to solve the mystery of the chickens right now, she decided to go back inside and find the other Cousins of the Knight. Surely, someone had to be somewhere. She went back into the living room and looked around. She saw the Cousins of the Knight banner above the fireplace and the inviting looking chairs and sofas grouped around. "This really is nice," she said. I think I'm going to enjoy spending the next two weeks in a cottage like th..." Suddenly, loud sirens began to blare and bright lights shone from all directions. Margie screamed and clapped her hands over her ears. "Oops, sorry Margie," she heard a voice say from somewhere, as the noise and the lights stopped. "We were just testing the security system." Margie sat down, very carefully, in one of the chairs. She looked around the living room again and wondered, somewhat nervously, what the next two weeks would bring. Obviously, there was more to the Comfy Cottage than met the eye. From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fihw-0006mz-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:39:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7256; Sat, 14 Aug 99 14:35:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7725; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:35:14 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 21:38:10 +0300 Reply-To: dce@dlc.fi Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: dce Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Preparing For The Party (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1c629c72eae33e324d7b2573154549a9 PREPARING FOR THE PARTY (1/1) by Claudia Date: 13/08/99 Time: 6:00 p.m. Just before Kimberly's 'Party at the Raven' post. Place: The Raven Everyone used with permission. Taking one last look around the kitchen to make sure that everything was exactly as it was supposed to be Claudia headed upstairs. Now that everything else had been taken care of it was time to prepare for the party. She joined her fellow Raven/ettes who were already busy getting ready for the big event. On her left, LeeAnn was helping Kimberly to do her hair and right next to them Caroline was immersed in getting her make-up just right. Alex, who was all dressed up already in a nice, dark blue shirt and black double breasted jacket with matching slacks, stood near-by with a glass of red wine, patiently waiting for the women to get themselves ready. "There, that looks perfect, even if I do say so myself", LeeAnn finally declared with a pleased smile, inspecting her finished handiwork. Kimberly could only agree, LeeAnn had really worked wonders in securing her long blond hair up in an elegant bun. "Thanks. Do you need any help with you hair?" "Not really, thanks, but I'd like a second opinion on my outfit", LeeAnn said, now holding up two dresses. "What do you think? The mini or the long one?" "The sequined mini, definitely", Kimberly declared in tandem with Alex. Claudia nodded in her agreement, looking a little wistful. "It'll look great with your high heels." She herself could never get away with wearing a miniskirt so she'd chosen a floor-length burgundy velvet dress. It had a tight, off the shoulders bodice with a flaring skirt, and it didn't look all that bad with her new stilettos. The outfit was completed by her black choker from the last war. She took a look at herself through the mirror. "Maybe I should've worn my hair down this evening..." she muttered. "Nah, it looks good the way it is", Alex assured her. "Thank you." Claudia smiled, touching up her curled, piled up hair. "Your ponytail looks nice, too. Very dignified." "Hey, has anyone seen my black eyeliner?" Caroline hollered just then. "I *know* I left it here just a second ago..." "Mmm, I think I saw it on that dresser over there", Claudia answered, motioning to her left. Unfortunately, her haphazard wave of a hand caught Alex's glass, promptly spilling his red wine all over his suit. "Oh, my... Alex, I'm so sorry.." Claudia stuttered an apology, looking for a napkin to dry the spilled wine. Not that it would've done much good. The suit was definitely ruined for the evening. "It's okay, Claudia, accidents happen", Alex said calmly, patting a paper-towel against his soaked shirt. "Don't panic, people. I happen to know that Janette stores a number of formal attire, including tuxedos, at the Raven. I'm sure Alex can find something to his liking from her stock", Kimberly assured them, getting up from her seat. She looked very fine, and tall, in her stilettos and her long, purple velvet dress with long sleeves of lace and a matching high-necked collar. Her many jewels jingled quietly as she turned, revealing the cut-out back of her dress, and headed to the door. "Just follow me, Alex." "Great start, Claude..." Claudia muttered to herself as they left. "Hey, don't sweat it. Like Alex said, it was an accident", Caroline comforted her. "Beside, he'll look great in a tux, no harm done." Turning back to the mirror Caroline finish her make-up. That done, she put on her black boots which looked great with her red crushed velvet tank top and the black skirt with an asymmetrical hemline. "What do you guys think, which of these bracelets goes better with what I'm wearing?" she asked then, facing LeeAnn and Claudia. "Why not wear both of them?" LeeAnn, who had now changed into her sequined miniskirt, suggested helpfully. After a moments hesitation Caroline gave a small shrug. "Why not." And then, she added on a black velvet choker as well as several other pieces of jewelry before nodding approvingly at her image on the mirror. Two hours wasn't really a lot of time to get ready but by helping each other out the Raven/ettes managed to pull it off with minutes to spare. Then it was time to go back downstairs where Janette was already waiting for them. As Janette nodded her approval for their attires the little group gave a collective sigh of relief and relaxed a little despite their excitement. Holding their heads up high, the stylish group waited for the party to begin. - the end - -- Claude *NA**NatPacker**N&NPacker**HB* http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/index.html From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fiy1-0007N4-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:55:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1143; Sat, 14 Aug 99 14:53:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8410; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:53:39 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 11:55:26 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War: Vaqs/Ratpack--Field Trip, or See, Wars * Can* Be Educational To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2f7e969dd2951c6488dff3a8d306a46d 14 Aug 1999 Vaquero/as HQ, the Church Toronto, ON 2:00 p.m. The Field Trip, or See, Wars *Can* Be Educational By Vaq Scribe #3 Felicia and Libby Singleton The Vaquero and Vaqueras were laying around their Headquarters, relieved that their Vachon was, in fact, *their* Vachon. He had gotten over the finger prick, and once again dwelt among them, idly strumming his guitar. Teresita sat at her computer, surfing into oblivion, when her cry broke the silence. "Hey, guys, check this out!" The Vaqs gathered around her, looking at the screen. Teresita had discovered Toronto.com, a website which gave information on the city and its various attractions. This particular link was for the Pier Waterfront Museum, and it's exhibit titled "Tatoos: The Mark of a Sailor." Teresita turned to the group. "Dosen't this look interesting?" Imajiru grinned. The much tattooed Vaq said, "Oh, I'd love to see that. It goes from 2-4 p.m., and it's just now 2. Let's go!" There was a murmur of agreement, and the Vaqs gathered their things. "Wait!" The Vaqs turned toward Vachon, who was frantically searching the room for something. "What is it," Tracy Sue asked. "Don't you want to go?" "Hmmm? Oh, sure! Of course I do, but I thought I'd call Screed and his crew, ya know, see if they'd like to come." "Ahhh," Sarah said. "So, what are you doing throwing our stuff around? Make the call." Vachon sighed and looked at them sheepishly. Was he blushing? "Um, well, I--I can't find my phone." He blinked suddenly when four cellular phones were thrust into his face. "Here," the Vaqs chimed, "use mine." "Yeah, thanks." Vachon took one and dialed his friend's number. ********************************************************************* Same day and time The Ratpack HQ The War was starting off slowly for the Ratpack. They were all tired from their journeys, and Screed from adjusting to his regained mortality. Libby, Michele and Johnsie had decided to catch up on their sleep before venturing out of the tunnel to begin their usual ratsie antics. Marissa, Jess and others had slipped away to find shiny pretties. "Screed, iz tha' your fish sammy-wich buzzin' away?" Libs asked sleepily, rolling over from where she'd curled up with Barnabas for a nap. Screed, who'd discovered fastfood, pick up one of the numerous sacks surrounding him and Johnsie. "Put me phone h'in h'it fer safe keepin'," he explained. "Safe keepin'?" Michele asked. "From wot?" "From ya droogs, o' course," he replied as he flipped open the phone. "Screed jammy-jammin' wit' ya... 'Ey, h'its the V-man. Say, 'ave ya come down wit' a case o' fatal mortalness? Yeah, h'it's goin' round right 'nuff proper.... Tattoos? Jest the thingee wot ta take me noggin' h'off me woes." ********************************************************************* Same day Pier Waterfront Museum Tononto, ON 2:30 p.m. The entourage arrived at the museum and entered. Two guards standing at the entranced shared worried expressions. "Hey, Tammy," Emma whispered, "did you see the looks on those guards' faces?" "I know, and all we did was walk in. Think what they'd look like if we *tried* to be, well, conspicuous." "Ma'am," one of the guards said, "no dogs allowed here." Libby looked down at Barnabas who whined pitifully. "'E's a seein' eye dawggie." "Ma'am, that dog is blind." "Tha's wot Oi'm sayin'!" Libs explained. "'E kin't peep from 'is peepers." "You can't bring him in the exhibit." Felicia nudged Tracy Sue. "Watch this," she said, grinning like a fool. All the Ratpackers stepped forward. "So's ya sayin' ya're refusin' the hound ent-ter-ance cuz 'e's blind?" Johnsie protested. "There's laws 'gainst tha'!" All the Ratpackers and Screed began protesting loudly. The Vaqueras simply stood back, trying not to laugh out loud. The guard rubbed his forehead. He couldn't understand a word they were saying. "Okay, ya kin bring the slobber-dawg h'in... I mean, he can come in." ********************************************************************* The group slowly migrated in, and it was at this time that the two ex-vampire friends found each other. They hugged, and Screed said," Ya sure make a scruffy-lewkin' mortal-type." Vachon just laughed. There was a chorus of "ahhhhhs" from the combined factions, and the two broke apart suddenly. Vachon cleared his throat and said, "Um, yeah, good to see you too, Screed." "Right, Mate," came the answer. Rae gave Libby a knowing look that cleary said, *Men!*" "Okay, Ratsies! Let's remember that the Vaqs invited us to join them, and try to speak regularly when they're around," Libby said to her fellow factioneers. The two other Ratpackers groaned, and Screed just looked at her funny. Seeing the expression on his face, she quickly ammended, "Not you, Screed." He nodded and walked off. They strolled forward, en masse. Suddenly, Imajiru rushed forward to a table. The artist had several examples of his work on display, and each depicted a fantasy creature. "She'll be there a while," Felicia said as she passed by. "Does she have room for more," Johnsie asked, looking at Imajiru's well decorated arms. Michele glanced over. "Hmmm. I'll bet she could squeeze another in if she reeaally tried." Meanwhile, Teresita and Felicia had wandered over to an area in which an artist was creating a tattoo on a customer. Felicia stared, wide-eyed, as the needle worked over the man's flesh. She shivered noticibly. "Not for you, is it, Twink," Teresita asked. Felicia blinked and looked at her Vaq Twin. "Most definately not. But it's facinating to watch, nonetheless." Vachon stood behind them. "Oh, come on, Felicia! I can't believe *you're* afraid of needles! I thought Kenpo Queens were fearless! And after what you did to me earlier!" He shook his head. "I'm disappointed in you." "Waaaiiiit a minute. Point of information, it was Emma who stuck you. I just caught the blood on a slide and ran. *And* I'll have you know that I'm a faithful blood donor, and am *not* afraid of needles!" That outburst drew the attention of several museum patrons, including Screed. He moved over and stood beside Vachon. Both wore evil grins. "Blood donor," Vachon repeated. "What type?" "Hey, now," Tammy came to the defense of her fellow Vaq Scribe. "That shouldn't matter to the likes of you two anymore, now should it?" "Yeah, guys. Give the girl some air," Michele said. The centuries-old friends walked away, chucking softly. Felicia sighed with relief. "Thanks, y'all." "Anytime. By the way, umm, what type are you?" Felicia turned to the small crowd around her and said in a small voice, "Type O. O positive, in fact." Johnsie's brows furrowed in concentration. "Type O? Hey, wasn't that the type of blood that the killer was after in 'Dark Kni. . ." "Yes!" He shrugged. "Just checking." The crowd dispersed, and began to examine the exhibits in earnest. In addition to the artists and their displays, there were photographs hung in frames showing ornate designs. Placards explaining the meaning of the designs accompanied each photograph. Tracy Sue had discovered a particularly colorful photo of a sail boat, and turned to call Sarah over to see it. Instead, she let out an "EEEP" and rushed across the room. "Just what do you think you're doing, Libs?" Libby turned to see her fellow faction leader looking at her intensely and tapping her right foot in a steady staccato. "Well, I was just looking at it, honest," she lied. Tracy Sue looked pointedly at the screw driver in Libby's hand, and the shiney placard which hanging by only one screw. "You guys are absolutely *no* fun", she groused. Rae, Emma, and Sarah had witnessed the near-catastrophy, and all let out a deep sigh. Emma swiped her hand across her brow and said, "Crisis avoided. Narrowly, but avoided." "Yeah, no kidding," Sarah looked around the room. "Aside from those things, I don't see anything really shiney. Maybe we'll be okay." "Sure hope so," Rae put in. Screed and Vachon had discovered a section with various representations of wildlife. Screed paused before one photograph and grinned. "A 'ornet! Tha's rather on the silly side o' things," he said between guffaws. Vachon just blinked. Libby humphed. "I know this droog by the name o' Greg Kramer wot 'as a tattoo o' a 'ornet," she said, slipping back into the accent. Screed replied with a loud raspberry. "Na much h'in the way o' creativity, 'is 'e?" Just then a loud scream went out. The entourage turned, stunned, to see museum patrons running wildly. "What the. . .Ack! Look! There are rats in here," Teresita could barely keep her voice from rising to a shriek. The Vaqueras huddled together as the flood of wild rats stampeded throughout. Vachon turned to his Carouche buddy, grabbing his shoulder and said, "Screed, quick! You gotta do something!" "Touch h'one o' them wild squeakers?" Screed yelled, forcing Vachon's hand away from his shoulder. "Wot h'are ya? Daft h'in the noggin?! Ol' Screed's mortal now. Them ro-dent-tures carry dee-see-ses o' the fatal sort. Tryin' ta give me some sort o' fever, are ya? Thought ya were a mate o' mine!" "Oh, no! I am not about to stay here with these. . *creatures*! I'm outta here," Tracy Sue began a dash for the exit. "Y'all heard the VaqMom! Let's vamoose," Felicia yelled over her shoulder. "Wait Vaq Twin!" "Hold up, fellow Vaq Scribes!" The rest followed suit and they didn't stop until they reached the sidewalk outside. "Whew! What a workout! I haven't run in ages," Vachon huffed as the group stood collecting their wits. Felicia leaned towards Teresita. "I wonder if this is a good time to mention the In. . ." "Don't go there, Olivier!" Teresita and Felicia errupted into giggles. "Ohh, poor puppy!" Michele bent down to pet Barnabus, who rolled over so she could rub his tummy. "Well, guys! This was. . .fun." Tracy Sue looked at her watch. We've got to get back and see what the others are up to." "Yeah, well, thanks for inviting us," Libby said. The Ratpackers turned to go, walking very slowly. A muffled cry went up, and all a loud "Sssshhhhhh!" could be heard. "Wait! What was that," Sara asked. "I didn't hear anything," Johnsie answered. "Well, *I* did," Emma stated. She approched the Ratpackers. They backed away. "Hey, what are you guys hiding," Tammy asked. Michele put on an innocent face. "Hiding? Whatever do you mean, hiding?" But the Vaqs didn't buy it, and they walked over to the smaller group. "Who is *that* guy? He wasn't with us inside," Vachon pointed to a very decorated man who was cringing behind the Ratpackers. "They've *kidnapped* that guy!" Tracy Sue looked horrified. "Have not! He wants to visit the sewers, don't you?" The man began to shake his head, but quickly stopped when Screed leaned toward him. "But we can't let them do that! Quick, who has a bribe?" Felicia rolled her eyes. "Well, I was saving these for later, but. . ." She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a bag of cheese puffs. "Here, y'all. Will this ransom the fella?" Screed looked at his followers. They nodded. He grabbed the bag and Libby said," Deal." The Ratpackers moved off, laughing like maniacs. "Nice save, VaqAdj," Tracy Sue patted her Second in Command. The Vaqueras and Vachon turned towards their bikes. The museum junket proved that wars could indeed be educational, although as to what exactly they had learned, they could not say. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2 "The War Machine springs alive; opens up one eager eye. ."--Nena, '99 Red Balloons'. Libby _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:39 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FjEU-0006dd-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:12:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9613; Sat, 14 Aug 99 15:10:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9389; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:10:43 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 19:12:34 GMT Reply-To: "Mildred G. Cady" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Mildred G. Cady" Subject: WAR: MERC: Standstill To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8d957f40998360ddee35ccb831ca1917 MERC: Standstill Standstill By Mildred, Merc Mommy General Time/Place: Friday Afternoon- Before the Raven Party, Merc Central Laurie used with permission After the security system on the lab was finished, Mildred sent Gubs off to bed and she had collapsed on her hers and went to sleep. Her dreams were wierd, to say the least. They were unusually active, and all of the Toronto vamps were in it, but they weren't *normal*. Well, normal for vampires. She saw the various factions gathering together into a little box to duke it out amongst themselves. The only time she had dreams like this was when War was about to start. The last image she saw before she woke up stayed with her. "Oh Millie, that's evil" she laughed to herself. She jumped in and out of the shower and dressed. After checking her mail and information traffick, the dreams were confirmed---- War had started up again. "Oh good." Mildred started crunching numbers. At this time, her GHPness had come into the lab to berate her second-in-command about Mercs not having any jobs in the works, since War had started. "Oh good what?" Mildred just looked up. "Oh, hi. Didn't know anyone was there. I haven't heard anything going on with the other factions other than arrivals. I've already sent the adverstisement out for our services, and I'll be spreadign the word at the Raven party tonight that just got announced, but we need to get some more Mercs in before we can handle assignments... And the security system hasn't knocked anyone out yet." Mildred knew it was better to provide answers to Laurie's questions before she asked them, because when Laurie started asking questions she started looking like someone developed chameleon skin for humans. And to keep that from happening, Laurie had to be happy- and besides profits, the next thing that Laurie treasured the most was answers. And it didn't take mind reading to know what Laurie wanted to know from you. You just had to figure out if it was better to tell her now or later, and exactly how much you wanted to tell her. Mildred then noticed the bauble around Laurie's neck. "Hey, who gave yout that?" "Gave me what? Oh this?" Laurie looked at the pendant. "F. Hugh found it this morning. Said it felt wierd, but I don't care. It's cool." The glance that the Merc Mommy General gave her GHP said "When did you go insane?" However, what Mildred said out-loud was, "By the way Laurie, I have an idea." Quickly she detailed the outline of what would need to happen, and about how much profit they could make if marketed properly. "So... what do yo think?" "Ok... If you can pull it off." "I don't think I'll have much of a problem with that." Laurie turned aqua for a second, then just turned away. Mildred pressed some keys on her keyboard, and started talking into her headset. A few minutes later, she got up and ran to her room to lay out a new set of grey camos for the Raven's party. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FjEx-0000A5-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:13:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1229; Sat, 14 Aug 99 15:11:06 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9417; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:11:06 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:56:31 -0500 Reply-To: Susan Nix Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Nix Subject: WAR: NA: It's Gonna Be a Goodyear (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 48373933905b2158107d9fa30efb78c5 NA:It's Gonna Be a Goodyear (1/1) By KC (Susan Nix) Cabon used with permission from the NA muckety-dudes Time: After the CERK rescue Place: The Streets outside the Jeweled Peach The inhabitants of Toronto turned their heads at the unusual sight before them. A toga-clad woman was walking up and down the street, stopping strangers and handing them flyers. No, she hadn't become a religious cultist. Before the war, this addict, who we'll call KC, had dropped by her friendly neighborhood Kinko's to print out a very special flyer. This flyer told all about the French government's devious plot. She decided to take this free time between capers to do her duty as a red-blooded North American and take steps to prevent this fiendish plan. KC fervently believed that the French were planning an invasion of North America, first softening them up by bombarding the continent with rude waiters and ludicrously priced food, then moving in with the fighter planes and tanks. She desperately wanted to warn these poor blissfully ignorant dopes, but it wasn't going well. After the first dozen Torontians laughed in her face, she settled forlornly on a bench and grabbed a newspaper abandoned nearby. As she rested, she thumbed through the paper until an article in the sports section caught her evil eye. It said, "Blue Jays to Play Cardinals at Exhibition Stadium." She read the article with half-interest, but bolted in her seat when she read a throwaway line at the end mentioning the insignificant fact that the Goodyear blimp would make an appearance at the game. A deliciously evil grin spread across her childlike features. She then jumped from her seat and sprinted toward the Jeweled Peach. Time: Forty minutes later Place: About a block from Exhibition Stadium "Eye dun't knuw why Eye em neccesiry for thees venture!" Cabon protested as KC drove him, the flyers, and a shipment of pillow feathers in a van toward the stadium. Earlier, KC had dragged a loudly protesting Cabon out of the Peach, rented a van, and ordered the poor Frenchman to help her load the goodies onto the van. "Because you're the only one I know who can pilot this contraption, what with your piloting experience and all." "But the veree suggestion thet my countrymen are tryeeng to envade ewe is loodicrous! Why would we do such a theeng?" "Because you European types are tricky and sly!" KC explained. "Y'all can't stand the fact that you lost the whole Louisiana Purchase, and want to get it back!" Cabon only harumphed and started muttering to himself. "Theese addeects eet's always 'gimme gimme!' No respect for my telents now, they're mooning over that Ereek. Only pey attention to Cabon when they want sometheeng!" "Aw, quit yer bellyaching!" KC cut in. "Think of it this way you're taking part in a grand adventure, and helping out the continent!" "Okay, I ken understand the flyers, but why, in Jerry Lewis' name, are we takeeng peelow feathers weeth us?" Cabon protested yet again. "Well, after we lay our thing down here, we're gonna take this crate to St. Louis after the war to make a delivery! Crazy Larry's Pillow Emporium! Y'know, make a few shekels on the side." As the van pulled into the parking lot where the blimp was ready to take off, Cabon turned to face the blonde addict. "Wus eet just me, or were there some pamphleets mixed een with the flyers?" he said suspiciously. "Oh, that's just something I printed up explaining how to keep those holiday goiters to a minimum." KC explained cheerily. "Eye shouldn't have asked." The two piled out of the van and walked casually up to the guard keeping watch over the blimp until the pilots arrived. Without a word, KC applied the Arkansas Nerve grip, a technique to render a foe unconscious which had been passed down from Nix generation to Nix generation. The guard slid to the ground, out cold. Wasting no time, the pair loaded up the blimp with the feathers, the pamphlets, and the flyers, and boarded the blimp themselves. With a nod from the Evil Addict, Cabon grabbed the controls and took that puppy to the skies. The blimp floated away from the stadium until it was in the middle of Toronto. When the blimp was over the right spot, KC walked over the to control board and pushed the button. Almost immediately, the two could see the pamphlets and the flyers drifting gently downward to the streets below. The flyers settled in the park, near the Shrine, over the Raven. They settled over the Dark Perk mansion, and CERK. KC beamed fiendishly as she watched them settle over the landscape. "Okay, my man, let's take her down!" she crowed. Cabon expertly piloted the blimp down to a nearby park. Before exiting the cabin, KC grabbed the remote control to the blimp. When the two were out, KC manipulated the controls, and the blimp floated serenely high into the sky. "Doo ewe theenk the feathers weel be safe in there?" Cabin asked, concerned. "Sure," KC shrugged. "As long as it's up there, we're home free! And that's where you come in, my man." "What do ewe mean?" he said, backing away. KC slipped the remote control into his hand. "You wanna be respected?" KC asked. "Well, I respect you enough to watch over my toy until the war's over. Until then, don't let anything happen to that remote. You think you can do that?" Cabin opened his mouth to protest, shut it, then nodded in defeat. KC smiled and took his arm as they headed toward the Shrine. "Sherman was right. War ees hell," Cabon muttered. Time: Half an hour later Place: The now flyer and pamphlet-littered streets outside the Jeweled Peach. KC grinned in delight as she watched the confused Torontians pick up flyer after flyer and pamphlet after pamphlet. "My plan is working just as I hoped it would!" she said to herself with glee. In fact, the Little Demon was so proud of herself, she decided to give herself a little treat. But what? Soon, however, she passed the Knight Designs Tattoo Parlor, and the answer hit her like a McGwire foul ball. "I GOT IT!" she screamed to no one in particular. She walked into the parlor and submitted an unusual request. The tattoo artist was confused at first, but heck, he had drawn on rabid gila monsters on some people, why should this be any different? Fifteen minutes later, KC emerged a little sore, but happy nonetheless. She raised the hem of her toga to admire the fruits of her twisted imagination: a wonderful rendering of Joel Robinson from Mystery Science Theater 3000 and the Buzzcut Love Monkey himself, fiercely engaged in an arm wrestling contest. Smack dab on the addict's upper thigh. "I love it when good things happen to me," she sighed. The End! From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FjLr-0000ud-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:20:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7391; Sat, 14 Aug 99 15:14:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9628; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:14:52 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 19:15:21 GMT Reply-To: "Mildred G. Cady" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Mildred G. Cady" Subject: WAR: MERC: Hit Me With A Muse Or Two... To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f15d7d643c2b805154735788419b42ba MERC: Hit Me With A Muse or Two Hit Me With A Muse or Two by Mildred Cady with assistance of Shanna (DP) Time/Place: Friday Night, at the Raven Party Tracy, Jeanette, and others used with permission. Michel Saint-Louis is an entirely fictional character of Mildred's creation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Michel Saint-Louis could do nothing but wonder at the array of people in the room. His friend Mildred had called when she got to Toronto and invited him to a party. Now here he was, standing in one of the most exclusive clubs in Toronto, seeing people who ranged from Roman maidens to Mildred- who was standing in a corner around a tray of chocolate in pure steel grey camoflage. He was wandering around, trying to be quiet and unobtrusive, and doing a good job of it. Each grouping of people seemed so caught up in one person or looking over thier shoulders at someone else, it was a wonder that anyone was having fun. Then at the bar, he spotted them. A beautiful blonde woman, almost elven-like in his eye, was drinking at the bar. An equally beautiful raven haired woman had broken off from the band of stylish disciples she had gathered and went to talk with the blonde. They had caught his eye before, but seeing them together hit him in the chest, and the mind. They complimented each other- one a bit more athletic, the other a little more regal. His hands began to burn a little, a sensation he always had when his mind made the translation from flesh into stone. He saw the blonde woman transform in his mind into a dark pink marble, the brunette went from pale flesh to marble almost the hue of alabastar. In that zone of artistic energy, he walked up to them in a daze. Jeanette noticed him first. The man was beautiful in a way, with dark hair curling int loose ringlets with a couple of bleached sections, and a slight muscular build. Tracy caught Jeanette's gaze, and understood why Jeanette's last sentance had trailed off. And when he spoke, he got even better. A little hesitant in the face of such inspiration, Michel found his voice. "Pardon-moi, mesdemoiselles. I could not help but notice you..." *Pure* French. Jeanette noticed the inflections of Lyons. Tracy just noticed the dark rolling texture of his voice. "But I have what could be a... strange request. I am a sculpture, and I..." He stammered to a stop. Jeanette, having known and posed for a few artists in her past, smiled slowly. She could tell from the cloudy glaze over his eyes that he had found a Muse, or two. "Ahhh.... I see. Tracy, this gentleman would like us to pose for him." Tracy's eyes widened a bit. "Pose? In the nude?" Tracy was half-wishing that Michel would respond with yes to both questions. The artist's face flushed. "Oh non mademoiselle, not nude. You see, my method starts with a plaster cast made of the body, and that would be... painful to a fully nude person. And to such wonders of form I could not cause pain to. To do so would only diminish the finished sculpture." This was a sign of a real artist- a level of care for his subject, but more of his attention is payed to the art. It had been a while since she had met such an individual so driven. "I for one, will say oui, on the condition that the sculpture of me is given to me when finished." Michel smiled broadly, "Oui, oui! Whatever you wish, as long as I am able to create it." With this, Jeanette knew he was genuine. The action of creation drove him, and she could gather the result without much trouble. She looked over at her companion. "Tracy, I recomend the experience. True artists are rare, and one should always take such opprotunities when they fall in your lap." "Sure, why not? I can't wait to see the look on Vachon's face when he sees it, and the Dark Perks will find a place for it..." The two women were supprised when Michel dropped down to one knee for a minute, but then he looked up at them with a look of sheer awe. "Merci." He stood up again. "I am only in town for a couple of weeks, but I work quickly. We will need a full afternoon for the plaster to set and dry. How is Tuesday?" Janette and Tracy smiled at the young man's eagerness. "Tuesday's fine for me, how about you Janette?" Janette nodded. "All I'll need from you is to wear very thing... undergarments. Also, bring what clothes you wish your image to be wearing...." After arranging to meet at the Raven during Tuesday afternoon, Michel bowed once more, and dreamily found his way out the door. The Merc Mommy General, after stocking up on chocolate, wandered around the party. She noticed a number of the faction leaders were sporting a bauble, simular to the one she had seen the Grand High Poobah with earlier in the day. Not too long later, she saw her guest, Michel, drifting towards the door in a daze. Mildred caught him just before he went out. "Michel, where you going?" "Pardon, I need to arrange for supplies to be brought to Toronto... do you know of a place I could work?" Mildred smiled. "You found a willing subject, so quickly?" "Ahh... the gods, they have smiled on me and sent two angels for me to sculpt." Mildred's eyes widened. "Which two?" "A Janette and Tracy... ahh you should see them together..." The Merc Mommy General halted his oncoming monologue. "Follow me, I have just the place." She smiled and followed him out the door. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FjLu-0000ud-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:20:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7393; Sat, 14 Aug 99 15:14:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9657; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:14:53 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:15:33 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA: Don't Leave the Shrine Without It (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b032e499502514f4c5874e5d9da15285 TITLE: NA: Don't Leave the Shrine Without It (2/3) AUTHOR: Christy Stillman TIME: Saturday afternoon/evening, August 14, 1999 NOTES: Glennis and Dee used by permission As Glennis climbed into the passenger's seat of the Accord (which Christy had conveniently rented and had delivered to the Shrine in order to save further plot developments in her story), she turned to the short addict and asked, "Okay. Where to?" The Floridian pulled out the piece of paper given her by the Third Cousin. "Well, let's see what's on the HP's list, shall we? Hmm...okay, first aid supplies. Makes sense to me. All those ex-vamps keep forgetting they're no longer immortal. There've been an inordinate number of boo-boos among them." She perused further. "A *case* of pool cue chalk? What in the world does one woman need with a whole case of the stuff?" "You don't want to know," answered Glennis. "And then there's a package from...Vicki's Vixenwear? All right! I could use some stuff from there. This piece of platinum plastic is going to come in very handy," cackled Christy. "What do you mean, 'handy'?" asked Dee, her eyes narrowing as she sensed a plot whose results might bring grout duty down upon her head. The black mouse-eared beanie which she had refused to remove since her arrival wobbled as Christy turned to the back seat. "Well, Patt *did* give me permission to use her card," answered the redhead. "And she *did* mention that I should get some undies with it. Didn't she, Glennis?" "Yeah, but I don't think she meant from Vicki's Vixenwear. That stuff's pretty pricey, you know." "Well," Christy declared. "If the HP can cover her fashionable fanny with silks and satins from Vicki's, so can I. Besides, I'll pay the mature one back when I get home to my checkbook. I'm stuck in the midst of a War with next to nothing in my wallet and no suitcase full of tee-shirts bearing the image of my favorite corporate symbol." She sniffed melodramatically. "Probably just as well," stated Dee. "You might be mistaken for a Ratpacker...by Screed." The three addicts exchanged a glance. "Eeeeewwwwww!" --------------------------------------- Glennis and Christy exited the local K-Wal discount store, their arms heavy with bags of first aid supplies for the boo-boos of the immortality-challenged. When they got to the car, Dee, who had opted to stay with the vehicle (ostensibly to keep an eye it, but actually to keep both eyes on a particularly buff telephone repairman), was nowhere in sight. With a furrowed brow and concern in her voice, Christy asked, "Where could she have gotten off to?" A muffled thud was heard from the rear of the Accord . Glennis and Christy looked at one another and laid an ear against the lid of the trunk. There was another thud as the car shifted from side to side violently. They backed away quickly, staring at the seemingly animate vehicle with fear and trembling. This reminds me *way* too much of that horror movie about the car that comes to life," said Glennis. A voice came from the trunk of the car. "Christy? Glennis? Are y'all out there?" Glennis backed further away, but Christy recognized the refined Virginia drawl. "Dee?" "Yes! Get me out of here!" Glennis popped the trunk, and there was Dee, most of her five feet seven inches tucked up under her chin. "I have determined," Dee said in a dignified tone, "that the trunk of the Honda Accord would definitely *not* be a good hiding place for Nick during the daylight hours." Glennis looked at Christy. Christy looked at Glennis. They both plopped their bags on top of their fellow addict, closed the trunk, got in the car, and headed for River City Billiards Supplies. Shouts of protest could be heard from the trunk. "Just be glad we didn't buy any souvlaki, missy!" Glennis yelled. ******************** Having been pried from the trunk of the car after the stop to pick up Jules' supply of cue chalk, Dee glared balefully at the back of Glennis and Christy's heads. She was slightly disheveled and sported a couple of the newly purchased adhesive strips on her knees. "Was it absolutely necessary to use a crowbar to get me out of the trunk?" she groused. "Certainly not. We could have left you there," Christy replied, mouse ears bobbing in time to the music on the radio. "Let's let the detective do his own trunk investigating from now on, shall we?" A low growl came from the back seat. Finally finding a parking space, the addicts piled out of the car to stare in awe at Eaton Centre. Christy gazed adoringly at the edifice, its gracefully arched glass roof glinting in the sunlight. "It's like standing before the Pearly Gates," the Southern belle drawled reverently. "I hope y'all are ready to do some serious shopping." "Serious shopping?"Glennis queried. "I thought you were just getting underwear...Christy? Christy!" But her shopaholic friend was already walking toward the entrance, totally mesmerized. "Come on, Dee. If we let her loose in there with Patt's credit card, we could be standing before a *real* set of Pearly Gates before long." Nodding her head in agreement, Dee took off after Christy with Glennis on her heels. Having longer legs, she caught up with the entranced addict first. "You know, Dee," Christy said, "I've been thinking about all those shirts with mice on them. I *would* look too much like a Ratpacker if I wore those for two whole weeks. I think I may just have to buy myself a whole new WARdrobe." "But what about Patt..." began Dee, only to be cut off by a wave of Christy's hand. "The Third Cousin will understand. After all, we can't have a representative of NA running around looking like a carouche's crony, now can we?" "Well, you'd best ditch the ears, too," grumbled Glennis, puffing a bit from trying to keep up with Dee and her longer strides. Christy's green eyes flashed, "Hey! The ears stay right where they are in tribute to the plans I had made prior to this whole war thing." Her eyes misted. "Somewhere far south of here, Disnoids are running freely among the park attractions and happily causing mayhem while I'm stuck here being the HP's errand girl." "True," Glennis said philosophically to the newbie, "but addicts must be flexible. If you can't cause mayhem where you *want,* then you should cause mayhem where you *are.*" "That was so deep," Dee said admiringly. "I'll be sure to stitch that up into a sampler one day," Christy growled. "Here's Vicki's Vixenwear. Let's get this errand running out of the way." "Oooo..." said Glennis, running her fingers across a long black silk gown with a neckline cut down to here and a slit cut up to there. "I feel a Nunkies fantasy coming on...." Her eyes glazed over. A silly grin appeared on the addict's face, and she began to drool ever so slightly. "Hey, you gonna drool all over that thing or buy it?" asked Christy. "Buy it? With what? This thing costs..." Glennis looked at the pricetag. "...two hundred dollars!" Christy flashed the platinum card. "Don't leave the Shrine without it." A wicked grin spread over her face. "Oh no. I couldn't. I shouldn't. I won't. Well, okay. If you insist." Dee walked up with a burgundy velvet teddy. "Look! It's on sale! It's only $95!" Christy headed for the silk undies, and the shopping began in earnest. From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:43 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FjaQ-0000sk-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:35:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9805; Sat, 14 Aug 99 15:33:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2159; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:33:18 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:35:31 -0500 Reply-To: dornhoff@prairienet.org Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Janet Dornhoff, DVM" Subject: War: NP: Can't ditch me that easily! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9690e545e57d93a2ebe6e1ae42baf859 Story: The Owls Are Not What They Seem Author: Janet Dornhoff Location: Natalie Lambert's apartment Time: Just after Sleep, Socks and the Raven Meg Anderson wrote: > > "Last call," Debra said in a stage whisper. > > Silence, except for a mumbled "Seven owls?" from someone near the back. Janet shook her sleep-muzzied head, still entangled in a dream of an overcrowded Wildlife Ward. Screech owls were cute, but there could be too much of a good thing. And why did so many people bring in adult Screechies thinking they were "baby Great Horned Owls?" Then the words she'd heard through the fog penetrated. "Hey, wait for me!" she shouted, grabbing her bag and rummaging through it for the black dress she'd bought last week. It was sleeveless, shear, and had a silver chain hooked around her waist. She could *never* have worn it six months ago, but now it actually looked *good*! She skinned out of her jeans and T-shirt and let the soft fabric slither down into place. The contents of her jeans pockets went into a black purse, and she snatched up her black pumps and was out the door half a minute after the others had left. *Never thought I'd be grateful for on-call duty,* she thought, *but it sure did teach me to wake up and get out the door fast!* She slammed her hand against the side of the van as it started to pull away, and swung inside as the door slid open. "Did somebody mention a party?" she grinned. "Did somebody mention seven owls?" Debra razzed back. "Tonight, I'm more interested in ravens." Janet checked to make sure her CD case was still safe in the back of the van. -Janet "C'mon, Nick, you're scaring me!" From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FjoB-0007k0-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:49:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7608; Sat, 14 Aug 99 15:47:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2928; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:47:29 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:49:18 CDT Reply-To: Kathy Walsh Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kathy Walsh Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: Arrival at the Raven To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5291ac3f934df36ba94e772d5e1318f4 Date: 13 August, 1999 Time: 8:15am Kathy Walsh stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver. Obviously, this man had some "issues." Goodness knows what place he was from (Pluto?), but apparently his vocabulary was severely lacking in um gentility. Translation: he cussed the young brunette out about EVERYTHING. He even told her that Americans were psychos because they had produced the Spice Girls and other "$@%$ hedonistic #$%$ rock wackos." Not being good at putting up with ignoramuses, Kathy amused herself by playing "I Will Remember You" over and over and over . Actually, Kathy didn't think the Spice Girls were that bad and besides, they're a British group!! At long last, she had escaped the weird driver (who took her out of Toronto before looping around and finally coming to the Raven) who had seemed so sane at the airport. Now Kathy stood outside the Raven at last, still agonizing over the loss of her dress bag. The airline had PROMISED to deliver it to the Raven an hour ago which meant she should have it by midnight. Then again, they HAD let her carry her instruments on with her as well as the usual carryon stuff. All in all, a fair trade, she thought. Kathy would have done some serious injury to anyone who hurt her beloved musical instruments!!! Waiting for Alex to open the door, Kathy reflected back to the rollicking good time they'd had on the morning flight to Toronto . The connecting flight to Chicago had been the best . There had been a professional rock band on board, and she had played some KEWL improv descant parts on her flute, if she did say so herself!! Then on the Chicago/Toronto flight, a group had asked her to sing with them . It was like something out of an old soft drink commercial. Kathy had stepped in front of the entire coach cabin and let her alto voice soar, singing popular songs and even a few hymns for the priests in the back row. Even the first-class passengers and the stewardesses had come to listen to her. The pilot and co-pilot had taken turns coming out to listen to her . Oh, yes, Kathy was having an excellent day, lost garment bag notwithstanding!! The door opened, but no person was visible. Kathy picked up her bags and stepped inside. Alex had said he would be there when she got there, and Caroline would most likely have already arrived as well . Once Kathy had stepped inside, the door whooshed shut. She turned to look at the vampire who had shyed from the sunlight, yet still opened the door for her . "Rambo and Hercules, eat your hearts out!" she muttered, shutting her eyes tightly, then opening them again. Her conscious mind finally realized who the man was . "MIKLOS!!!" she shreiked, flinging herself at the European vampire. As the combined momentum of a 120-pound gal, two small instrument cases, and an overstuffed carryon bag hit him, Miklos grabbed said gal, cases, and bag and flew (causing a thrilled gasp from the brown-eyed female) the entire package to the back, where Janette and other Raven/ettes were waiting. Caroline sniffed. "You didn't do that for me! But I suppose I'll forgive *you*, Kathy, because of that story. You," she pointed gleefully at Miklos, "still owe me!" Shaking his head at his clan of (OK, two -- sheesh. Picky, picky!) adoring females, he picked them both up and flew them to Janette's room, where they were both instructed to change into one of Her Ravenetteness' dresses. "Ooh, man, I'm loving this already!!" gushed Kathy to her co-Mikie. "So, wanna jam?" They picked up their cases, redressed in gowns decidedly unsuited for "jamming," and headed onstage to try the acoustics. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fk8r-00027S-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 16:11:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9912; Sat, 14 Aug 99 16:08:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3940; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 16:08:55 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:10:43 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA/UF: I Bring You A Message Of Peace (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ac772a3b9c167525a8fae54bcc457694 NA/UF: I Bring You A Message Of Peace (1/3) by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Bons, UF leaders Julia Kocich and Leslie Grant-Smith, Time: Saturday August 14th, Afternoon Location: The Hive Bonnie felt nice. It was amazing what a little transfusion of cold air could do to an inflatable Scribe's temper. In fact, she reached a point where she felt so serene, she decided to spread the wealth around a little. After an afternoon of planning and flipping through the Snixco catalogue, Bons decided to drop in on some old friends at the Hive, and she came bearing gifts. Julia and Les appeared a little surprised at first. After all, Bonnie had never called on them at UF headquarters before. The sight of the NA leader with a basket of packages wrapped in peach paper shoved any doubts aside, and they welcomed her with open arms. Well, Leslie did. Julia still had those pesky handcuffs restraining her. "Bons! Bubeleh! What brings you to the Hive?" "You were both very kind to me last war," Bons explained, giving each woman a gift as she spoke, "and I thought I'd repay that kindness. You both know how stressful war can be, so I hunted down something that might help each of you take the edge off the madness." Julia was the first to peel back the skin of her peach present, holding it in place with her elbows as she tore with her fingers. She brightened with delight as she recognized the label. "A Valium salt lick! Oh, Bons, you shouldn't have!" She paused. "No, wait. You *should* have. You definitely should have. I know where I'll hang it: right by the computer monitor." Seeing how Julia scored like a bandit with her gift, Leslie wasting no more time shredding the paper concealing her goodie. Inside the velvet-lined box was a set of compact discs. Les lifted her head, requiring some further elaboration before she embraced the contents joyously. "Okay, a little birdie told me you'd like a recording of Nick and LaCroix, or someone who sounded a lot like them," *wink-wink* "reading Shakespeare's sonnets. Nick does the odd ones and..." Bonnie began. "You didn't!" Leslie exclaimed, immediately on her feet and in search of a Discman. Bonnie hedged well enough for a horticulturist's license. "Um, well...Nunkies Anonymous has had LaCroix reading sonnets on file in the Sound Room for a while..." "It sounds like LaCroix on the even sonnets...'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day' indeed," Leslie said. She pressed a button on the Discman, then her brow furrowed with a frown as she hugged her headphones to her ears. "What's this mess on Sonnet 57? Instead of 'Being your slave, what should I do but tend upon the hours and times of your desire?' all I hear is tittering noises, almost like you recorded a..." Realization filled Leslie's eyes with accusation. "...a chipmunk!" Bonnie grinned sheepishly. "I figured TOG wouldn't be interested in a recording session. A chipmunk's close, though!" Leslie shook her head as she dropped her earphones around her neck. "Uh-uh. It's only halfway decent, so I'm only semi-delighted at your thoughtfulness." Bons pursed her lips. "I had a feeling you'd say that, so I thought up a standby. Julia's so much easier!" Les glanced over at her co-leader, saw she was already taking advantage of her Personal Tranquillity Device, then looked back at Bonnie. "Sock it to me." "Well, one personal fave of some NA members is the hot honey bath, only, the gift had to be PG-13. Rules are rules." All three women made a face after that statement. "Blech." "But..." Bonnie continued her explanation, "...since the best part of that one is the Buff Slave Boy licking you off afterward, I figured I shouldn't push it." "But that's my kind of pushy!" Leslie protested, even as Bonnie bent to retrieve the last of her gifts. Handing them over, Bonnie said earnestly, "You probably won't sneeze at this." Leslie opened the two boxes, finding a case of Havana cigars and a bottle of Glen Grant single malt. "Mmm...I feel a nice buzz of tranquillity coming on..." "Oh, yeah," Julia murmured. "Good job, Bons. We're going to be the calmest faction leaders war-wide." Bonnie clapped her hands together in satisfaction. "Excellent!" "It's a shame, though..." Julia mused. "What?" "Pretty much any faction leader gets frazzled during war," Julia credo-ed. "Yes," Leslie agreed as she cut a cigar. "You always reach that clarifying moment when you'd rather stick a hot poker through your eye than read one more post." "But I'm not sharing my salt lick," Julia said possessively. "They can get their own." "They might not like your salt lick," Leslie countered. "My style's scotch and sonnets, remember?" "Hmm..." Bonnie wondered. "I sure don't have a klew what would relax all those leaders. After four years of fandom, I haven't even figured out all the faction acronyms." "And even if you *did* come up with something," Julia pointed out, "Who's going to take care of you?" "I don't suppose I need anything." Bonnie shrugged. "Things started rough this war, kinda blew up on me, but I've really lightened since yesterday. Cooled off. I've got one of those ABBA/Pass Me The Granola/ScoobyDoo/Karmic/Dharmic/Gregic/LuvThangs happening." Leslie raised her glass of Glen Grant. "Here's hoping it holds out the whole war." Julia saluted with her Valium salt lick. "Here, here." Bons gave them a silly grin, then made a 'V' with the middle and index fingers of her left hand. "Peace." ****************************************************************** End of Part One Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fkex-0003HA-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 16:44:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1608; Sat, 14 Aug 99 16:42:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5311; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 16:42:03 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:11:14 +0000 Reply-To: xina@LIGHTSPEED.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Anderson Subject: War: GSS: Saturday Morning and Partied Out (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 410dfb1a0f8a9230f49c70d113895cec Saturday Morning and Partied Out (1/2) Time: Saturday Morning, 7am Location: Cerk Sub-basement Written By: Kim Anderson Players: Kim, Joe, Tami, Silver Jade --- The elevator door dinged and opened, ejecting three black clad, drugout and hungover GSS Agents who had been leaning against the door on the way down. Kim, Joe and Tami sprawled forward onto the stone floor of the dungeon sub-basement grunting "Oof" and "Ow!" Joe lifted his head in the direction of the other two and groaned, "What a night, my head's ringing like a bell I don't think I'll do that again for a long time." He sat up rubbing his face and looked at Kim who was still flat out on the ground. Tami had already made it to her feet and was brushing off her clothes. "You shouldn't have challenged that irishman to a drinking contest, Kim." "He wash a short irishman, Joe, I tha I could take em'." Kim replied, rubbing her forehead. "Besidesh, I got tired of sitting there with you two drinking toast after toast after toast..." she remarked, trying to struggle to a sitting position. "First time we'd been back to the Raven in a year." Joe replied grinning and hiccuped. Tami walked a little ways off from the other two, impatient to get back to the HQ and get cleaned up. Just as she was turning back to ask the other two to "get moving" she heard a faint noise that sounded like "Hellooooooo." "Did you hear that?" she called back over her shoulder. Another faint sound echoed down the corridor somewhat more garbled by the echos but sounding alot like "I'm lost and hungry. Helloooooo." Tami reached into her jacket and whipped her Marksman dart pistol-tm with sleep dart load out of its shoulder houlster flattening herself against one stony wall. "Hey! Joe, Kim! Get over here! Somebody else is down here!" Joe jumped to his feet drawing his weapon and emulating Tami. Kim staggered to her feet stumbling over to them as well. "Whashat?" "Shhhhhh!, listen!" Tami shushed. "This is getting giteredigeulous, I'm lost lsin inna ddungeon eon." The garbled echo said even more faintly. Allright, lets move out." Joe, now in Agent Striker mode said, slowly moving forward, dart pistol at the ready. "Sounds like they are in G quadrant!" The two lucid agents headed into the maze of passageways followed by Kim staggering after shaking her head trying to sober up. ----kim From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fkns-0002eQ-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 16:53:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0034; Sat, 14 Aug 99 16:51:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5648; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 16:51:22 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:52:17 -0700 Reply-To: Lady Angst Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lady Angst Subject: WAR:NP: Where the Bouncy People Go To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b3aa9ce35a5bf62c130d509a90c4e935 Title: Where the Bouncy People Go Place: Toronto Airport Time: When the Raven party was started By: LadyAngst LadyAngst was sure she was caught in a space warp where the airport and hell met, causing difficulties for her. Being a Natpacker, she got out a notepad and took notes. Item 1: Chasing her luggage. Item 2: Finding out it belonged to an old lady, and her bag was the other black Samsonite. Item 2a: Being whapped with a really big purse and chased by a surprising fast old lady. Item 3: Spending a day and a night begging, bribing, and negotiating with her mom to let her stay in Toronto. Item 4: Ranting about the indignities subjected to minors. Item 5: Buckling down and promising to keep her room a.k.a. Nuclear Test Site #L2433LK. Item 6: Finding out that there was a war going on and her sanity was filing for divorce when she said she'd join. She hailed a taxi, hopped into the back seat and said, in triumph, "To Natalie Lambert's apartment!" The cab turned, gave her a puzzled look and said,"Who?" "The coroner!!" "And how would I know where the coroner lives?" She thought. She hadn't a clue where Nat lived. Hmm. She was sure cabies were regularly asked by Natpackers to drive to Nat's apartment. And what was a trait of being a Natpacker, besides having ultra good taste in following a brilliant coroner? (Author's note: I'm biased. You know this, I know this.) "Take me to where the bouncy people go!!!" "Starbucks?" "No! Well, maybe a minor stopover." The cabbie thought. "Kindergarten?" "Do I look like I'm a kindergartener?" "Well..." "Never mind! The Raven, then. You do know the club, don't you?" The cabbie brightened up. "Oh, you wanted to go to the party? Why didn't you say so?" "Party?" Wha? She shrugged. If there was a party at the Raven, all of the factions were bound to be there. "Sure." The cabbie took off, careening down the streets, narrowly missing a lamp post, dog, and a partridge in a pear tree. After that, she lost track as she urged the cabbie to do faster. The cab abruptly stopped; she suspected it was due to the sudden appearance of the curb in front of the Raven then the cabbie applying the breaks. She tipped the cabbie and got ready to get out of the car when she was struck by something. What was she forgetting? She eyed the people outside the club. You had to dress up for a party! She couldn't very well wear blue jeans to "THE RAVEN." _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fksk-00029N-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 16:58:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7794; Sat, 14 Aug 99 16:56:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5870; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 16:56:18 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 13:57:31 -0700 Reply-To: Lady Angst Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lady Angst Subject: WAR:NP: Where the Bouncy People Go To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3551820dfdf875fc6fae6c5a6fd0cb44 Title: Where the Bouncy People Go Place: Toronto Airport Time: When the Raven party was started By: LadyAngst LadyAngst was sure she was caught in a space warp where the airport and hell met, causing difficulties for her. Being a Natpacker, she got out a notepad and took notes. Item 1: Chasing her luggage. Item 2: Finding out it belonged to an old lady, and her bag was the other black Samsonite. Item 2a: Being whapped with a really big purse and chased by a surprising fast old lady. Item 3: Spending a day and a night begging, bribing, and negotiating with her mom to let her stay in Toronto. Item 4: Ranting about the indignities subjected to minors. Item 5: Buckling down and promising to keep her room a.k.a. Nuclear Test Site #L2433LK. Item 6: Finding out that there was a war going on and her sanity was filing for divorce when she said she'd join. She hailed a taxi, hopped into the back seat and said, in triumph, "To Natalie Lambert's apartment!" The cab turned, gave her a puzzled look and said,"Who?" "The coroner!!" "And how would I know where the coroner lives?" She thought. She hadn't a clue where Nat lived. Hmm. She was sure cabies were regularly asked by Natpackers to drive to Nat's apartment. And what was a trait of being a Natpacker, besides having ultra good taste in following a brilliant coroner? (Author's note: I'm biased. You know this, I know this.) "Take me to where the bouncy people go!!!" "Starbucks?" "No! Well, maybe a minor stopover." The cabbie thought. "Kindergarten?" "Do I look like I'm a kindergartener?" "Well..." "Never mind! The Raven, then. You do know the club, don't you?" The cabbie brightened up. "Oh, you wanted to go to the party? Why didn't you say so?" "Party?" Wha? She shrugged. If there was a party at the Raven, all of the factions were bound to be there. "Sure." The cabbie took off, careening down the streets, narrowly missing a lamp post, dog, and a partridge in a pear tree. After that, she lost track as she urged the cabbie to do faster. The cab abruptly stopped; she suspected it was due to the sudden appearance of the curb in front of the Raven then the cabbie applying the breaks. She tipped the cabbie generously for excellent driving and got ready to get out of the car when she was struck by something. What was she forgetting? She eyed the people outside the club. You had to dress up for a party! She couldn't very well wear blue jeans to "THE RAVEN." "Ah, could you do me a small favor?" The cabbie considered. She HAD given him a generous tip... "What?" he said suspiciously. "Turn around and cover your eyes." The cabbie obliged. She dug out her blackest pair of jeans and changed into them, ran her hands throught her black hair, and straigtened what a friend had called her "psychedelic" t-shirt. It wasn't the cut of the t-shirt, but what was on it. "Thanks!" her voice bounced. "You can uncover your eyes now." She bounced up to the Raven, which was no mean feat with luggage. As she pushed open the door, the strains of some song about a heart shaped world bombarded her ears. == Lady Angst, Natpacker, Nanette [just because] lady_angst@rocketmail.com "She's not the useless type. She doesn't stand there and scream helplessly. She makes other people do that." --Jingo, By Terry Pratchett _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Flc7-0005Nj-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 17:45:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1880; Sat, 14 Aug 99 17:43:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8601; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 17:43:13 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:12:37 +0000 Reply-To: xina@LIGHTSPEED.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Anderson Subject: War: GSS: Saturday Morning and Partied Out (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d22dc34927fa1f344c85d792bb2c4d69 Saturday Morning and Partied Out (2/2) Time: Saturday Morning, 7:30am Location: Cerk Sub-basement Written By: Kim Anderson Players: Kim, Joe, Tami, Silver Jade ------- Jade krept through the partially illuminated stone passageway, glancing over her shoulder from time to time, often seeing a fuzzy pink glow either dissapearing around some corner or other, or moving about in the distance too far away still to identify. She thought she had found one of the outter walls a half hour ago, and tried to work her way back in to the center of the maze from it, as Ace had told her that the headquarters of the GSS would be found there, but she must have made a mistake because all she had found were more cell lined passageways, four and fiveway entersections, and a couple of dead ends. Turning a corner, she thought she heard a noise and stopped abruptly. "Sshhhh! Maby it came from this way.." a male voice said, and she heard the muffled movement of feet. Jade mentaly cheered, "allright!" and headed jogging down the corridor ahead, toward the voice. ---- Striker, weapon drawn, eased along the wall toward the location of the last noise they had heard. The other two agents, Tami and a more sober Kim, right behind him. "Ok," Striker said, "I think we're almost right on top of them, whoever they are." A scuffling sounded from the fourway intersection of passages ahead and the Agents dropped down into firing positions...... "Well, its about time someone came looking for me!" A voice called from behind them. Kim and Tami let out little sounds of suprise and Joe jumped strait up as they whirled about quickly to face this new threat. Jade found three guns pointed directly at her nose and said, "Easy there peope, I'm GSS too, remember?" Kim relaxed and houlstered her weapon. "That's right guys. She's a new recruit. Agent Silver. Jade, meet Joeseph and Tamimuse." The other two agents exchanged greetings with Jade and put away their weapons as well. "How long have you been in here anyway?" Tami asked. "Since yesterday." Jade replied, "So lets find this headquarters of yours already, I'm famished." "Good thing you were yelling back here when we came in a little while ago or we would have missed you completely." Joe remarked. "I haven't been making any noise since last night.." Jade answered, puzzeled. Just then running feet sounded from the oposite direction, "Heeeeelllp! Whose there? I heard somebody!" The agents turned as one, drawing their weapons, "Alright, whoever you are! Hands up and walk over here nice and slow!" Kim called, finger tensing on the trigger. A figure appeared out of the gloom walking slowly toward them, hands raised. "Hey, you guys, peace. GSS here." the girl said waving her arms a bit. "Another false alarm." Kim said wryly. "That's Madi Holms, shes one of us too." "Alright, comeon you two." Joseph said to the two rookies. "Lets get to headquarters and start teaching you the ropes. Starting with dungeon navigation." The two tired and dirty GSS rookies groaned and headed out after the Agents, rest not being a factor in their immediate futures. "We lose more rookies this way." Tami remarked to the other experienced Agents, smirking. ----Kim From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fly1-0005XA-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:07:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0331; Sat, 14 Aug 99 18:00:45 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9621; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:00:45 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 16:02:34 MDT Reply-To: Meg Anderson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Meg Anderson Subject: War: NP: Bouncing Matilda 1/? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1526f1efb9cb605628ffc1fe3c32d23c Bouncing Matilda, Bouncing Matilda, Won't You Come a Bouncing Matilda With Me? 1/? by Maureen Wynn and Meg Anderson Time: Sometime in the late-ish evening of Friday 13 Place: The Raven The small crowd of women - and one man, as several were surprised to note - managed to seem like a much larger crowd than they were, as they came through the entrance to the Raven. Probably because they tended to bounce in unison at random times, so that most people kept their distance, eyeing the group suspiciously. They stood in the dimness of the club entry-way, peering into the bar, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dark. A red-headed member of the group broke away, running across the floor, squealing something high-pitched and unintelligable as she greeted a friend. The rest trailed after Maureen more slowly, chattering and laughing as they checked out the club. They wound up at the bar, pushing into a small gap between other partiers. Debra Ann tried to order a drink, but was having trouble making herself heard over the din. Finally, after much shouting back and forth, she got through to Mikolos what she wanted, and turned back to her friends. "Does anyone else want something? I seem to have established a rapport with the barkeep - better get 'em while the getting is good." Lynn shook her head, while Kimberly asked for a Coke (tm). Meg looked wistful. "I don't suppose I'd better try to get anything alcoholic - I wouldn't want to get thrown out before the party's hardly started." "Better stick with a soda," Jill agreed, placing her order with Debra for a large margarita. Maureen overheard that magic word, and turned from the conversation where she was catching up with old War friends, to order one herself. James decided to have a margarita as well. Judy wanted some lemonade, while Robyn requested a glass of wine. Melissa asked for a beer. Debra turned back to the bar to scream the orders to the waiter. When the drinks arrived, Debra Ann hastily re-evaluated her "rapport" with Mikolos. Her glass held something... green. Lime green. Flourescent lime green. Maureen and Jill were staring at their glasses. Maureen said in a choked voice, "There's an *umbrella* in my glass. Not that I have anything _against_ umbrellas, mind you, I just don't usually get them in margaritas..." Robyn's drink at least looked like the red wine she'd ordered, and she took a hearty swig... and almost choked. Her fellow NatPackers patted her on the back until she caught her breath. "What is it?" Meg asked, curiously. Robyn stared at the glass in her hand. "Let's just say... it's not wine." They looked at each other. Back at the drinks. Someone started to snicker, and suddenly they were all laughing. "Ah, what the heck!" Debra said, and took a large gulp from her lime-green-whatever. Jill and Maureen clinked glasses, then sipped, carefully keeping the little tiny umbrellas in place. After briefly studiying her glass, Judy *very* carefully sipped her lemonade and was pleased to discover it both looked *and* tasted like lemonade. After several drinks - with each round being wildly different (the bartender had to have just been grabbing bottles at random...) - the group was nicely loose and happy. When "C'est La Vie" by B*Witched came over the sound system, they all whooped and started bouncing in time to the music. "Hey, look, it's a NatPack dance," a nearby Merc snickered. Maureen stuck her tongue out at the money-grubber, grinned, and continued to bounce happily to the music. The 'Pack started to move out further onto the dance floor, and the bouncy movement started to catch on with the other dancers. The NatPackers started grabbing people standing around the edges of the floor and bouncing them out into the dance. Soon, most of the room was bouncing, (mostly) in time to the music. The song ended abruptly, and there was a brief awkward silence. Several Mercs and Cousins ran off the floor shakily, as if disbelieving that they'd actually been *bouncing*. But most stayed on, waiting for the next song. It came on after a few seconds, slow, sweet music - and about half of the dancers fell to the floor, screaming and putting their hands over their ears. They were playing "Heart-shaped World". The NatPack looked at each other, looked at the people writhing in agony on the floor, grinned insanely, and started bouncing again. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fm2P-0004UF-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:12:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0366; Sat, 14 Aug 99 18:06:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0011; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:06:24 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:08:13 PDT Reply-To: Shele McCaa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shele McCaa Subject: WAR: NA: Hello. My Name Is Shele 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9be641ff2de834d4ae3e197c225d8679 NA: Hello. My Name is Shele (1/1) by Bonnie Rutledge Flashback of the events of Saturday Morning, August 14th, after Raise The Roof Location: The Shrine to Nunkies Used w/ permission: Patt, Allie, Nite, Glennis and Kriel Abused w/permission: Shele Hello. My name is Shele, and I'm plastered. No, I don't have a drinking problem, though if someone would hitch a straw leading from my mouth to a gallon of whisky sours, I'd sure consider it. The fact of the matter is, I went to sleep one night - minding my own business - and, when I woke up, I was part of one of the Shrine anteroom walls. It just goes to show you, you can't plan for everything: lightning, train wrecks, or incidents with bonding putty. Yes, I was unhappy. Yes, I screamed. Being NA's Poet Laureate, I even screamed in meter. The problem I gathered later was, what with all the drywall surrounding my head, my lyrical curses and pleas for assistance came out sounding something like, "Mmmmf-mmmffffle-mffffer-mfff! Mfff!" To do the Addicts credit, it only took them maybe ten minutes from the time I woke up to really catch on to the situation. I couldn't understand their shouting anymore than they could comprehend mine. I could understand the concept of people, alarmed, congregating behind me. I'd been stretched out on the floor, you see, swaddled in my official God of War blanket, sleeping with my back facing the interior of the right anteroom, my front aimed toward the hallway. Pretty soon, the shouting turned into something different: the CRACK-BOOM!!!! of something very, very hard hitting the plaster above me. This was cause for concern. I didn't mind them turning this inconveniently-placed wall into rubble exactly. What I minded was the possibility of a stray hammer making contact with any portion of my anatomy. I couldn't imagine any of the addicts, being the enthusiastic kind of wackos I normally love, smacking the hell out of something, i.e., me, softly. I screamed "Aim high! Aim high!" for a while, hoping to spare myself broken bones and tenderized organs. It seemed to work, for after a while, I could hear a little bit better out of my right ear. Maybe now I was only listening through six inches of mortar rather than twelve feet to the ceiling. I did catch on that maybe the outside folks couldn't understand anything I said, despite some acute attention to my diction and using simple vocabulary. "GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!" just didn't seem to make the cut. Since vocalized panic wasn't working out, and the very nature of my predicament prevented sign language, I decided to practice my psychic powers. No, I don't have psychic powers. I know that *now.* But, let me tell you, when you've been fitted for your own concrete straightjacket, you'll find you're willing to try anything once. Soon, another interesting sound came to pass. It suspiciously resembled - aaaah! - a running drill. Wrrrrrrrr-zzzzt-wwwrrrrrrrrr-wwwrrrrrrrrr!!!!! It was right in my ear!! "SSSSSTTTTTOOOOOPPPPPPP!!!!!" I screamed. Funny enough, the drill stopped. Fresh air trickled to my nostrils, and suddenly, I could understand what was being said above me. "Did you hear that?" It was Nite, I believe, no doubt the bit-happy Drill Mistress. "Oooh! I can see her ear!" She must have leaned as close as possible, because suddenly I heard Nite's voice bellow painfully in my (thankfully, still intact) eardrum, "DON'T WORRY! WE'LL GET YOU OUT!! KEEP A STIFF UPPER LIP!!" Stiff upper lip, eh? As the gal immobilized in building materials, I took exception to that comment. A minute later, I heard another burst of boring through my concrete jungle, this time aimed pretty darn close to my nose. I started to scream again, because I'm the type of gal who's okay with the current condition of my honker. No forced reconstructive surgery for me, if you please. The drilling stopped before injury, lucky me, but I couldn't exactly smell the sweet smell of addict feet now, either. I shouldn't have wondered, because no sooner than I started to imagine what they might be doing next, someone's pushy finger broke through the last membranous layer of plaster and right up my right nostril. We were both disgusted. "Ugh!" I heard Allie shriek. "I told you to bring me rubber gloves!!!" Nite risked one more hole, this one thankfully over my mouth. I took the precaution of opening it as wide as possible. Worst case scenario, I'd get a free tonsillectomy. She'd gotten better with practice, though, merely using her Sacred Drill to start a hole. Allie was left to poke and prod at the beginning of my mouth opening with Q-tips and Patt's file collection. At least, that's what they told me they were doing. After a while, I started to say, "Knock, Knock...Knock, Knock," repeatedly. Eventually, Allie could hear me well enough to interpret. "Who's there?!" "If you don't know, I'm not telling," I said sarcastically. Patt leaned over my ear and explained that the hole only revealed the left corner of my mouth (Like I didn't know that! I'd already tried to send them a big healthy zerbert to show my appreciation!), so my speech was still muffled. "Don't worry," she said, "We're catching on. We can interpret for you." Interpret?! INTERPRET?! Okay, at this point I got a little hysterical. I didn't understand why I had to stay in the plaster long enough for anyone to get used to anything. Shoot me with that fire hose Sallie & Co. brought home from their jail break, and melt this stuff off of me! I must have shouted this suggestion, because Patt then tried to calmly explain that, for some reason known only to GROUT, they'd used some kind of waterproof compound. In case of flood, Patt guessed. A male voice, that no-good, plasterer Kriel, I bet, broke into our discussion. "Want some assistance?" This question was followed by the roar of a chainsaw coming to life. "NOOOO!!!!" Everyone shouted that time, not just me. So that's my story. I'm Shele, NA's Poet Laureate, and I'm in an involuntary body cast. The addicts are working slowly, but surely, with the files, chisels and Q- tips, chipping away a little more of my prison with each passing day. They've got me standing upright now - Allie borrowed one of GROUT's forklifts when they weren't looking. The addicts lug me around from place to place on Jules' luggage cart, just so I won't go crazy from boredom. Yeah, my speech still sounds like, "Mfffh! Mfffle! Mrrrrff!" to the untrained ear, but like Patt said, the addicts are catching on enough to interpret. Glennis told me she painted a nice scene of the Appian Way on my behind. They'll chip that bit away last, to keep as a souvenir. Now you know almost the whole sordid situation. Just don't ask me how I go to the bathroom. Pretend this is Star Trek, okay? ******************************************************************** Fin for now... _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fm9x-0004hg-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:20:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8162; Sat, 14 Aug 99 18:18:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0471; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:18:06 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 14:49:55 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: Cuz: Phobia Frenzy (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 68b56cfcd8e78005ef27faa2905e7df5 Title: Phobia Frenzy (1/1) Date: Saturday, August 14th Time: Around 9pm Place: CERK Authors: Cousin Shelley (SHELLEY@compuserve.com) and Cousin Tser (tserisa@bigfoot.com), with permissions from all mentioned. * * * * Coming back to CERK after an exhausting day, Shelley was looking forward to falling into her bed for a nice, long sleep. She had gotten up that morning and gone straight to the Light Cousin's new headquarters to help clean it up. Beginning in the foyer, she had just dusted and sneezed her way to one of the parlors when another blasted tour group had shown up. It HAD been Brandi's turn to give tours, but naturally she hadn't shown up. Well, at least Shelley wouldn't EVER forget that architectural term again... not after the first tour when she had forgotten it and been the laughing stock of the entire University of Toronto. Well, almost. This tour had been nearly as bad, a mouse had scurried across the floor of the dining hall causing Shelley to screech "EEEEEEK!!" and jump up on the large table in the room. The tour group had been *very* amused, however Shelley was feeling a little different about the whole thing. Giving tours were slowing becoming a nightmare, and she sighed heavily at the thought of giving another one. "Thank goodness this day is over," she said to herself as she passed through CERK's security. The Cousinly Receptionist, Cousin Isabella, gave her a slightly odd look for talking to herself, but then seemed to dismiss her as if she had seen many, many Cousins mutter to themselves as they came and went. Isabella went back to drawing fashion sketches. Getting into the elevator, she rode up to the fourth floor where she and Arletta shared a room. Eyes blurry from fatigue, she made her way along the corridor until she got to room 413, the 7th door on the left. She had a habit of counting the doors each time she came back to the room, which came in handy for days like today when she was too tired to read the room numbers. Opening the door, she didn't bother to turn on the light. No need, she was just going to fall into bed anyway. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed two bluish gray bowling pins off to the right. "Must be something Arletta bought," she muttered to herself, and it barely occurred to her that buying a bluish gray bowling pin was an odd thing, especially with how much oddness happened during Wars. Just then, one of the bowling pins began to move. Waddle, actually. Her tired mind tried to comprehend why a bowling pin would move, much less waddle. As if in answer, the bowling pin made two small noises, essentially translated into the written language as "quack quack". "Whaaa...?" was all Shelley could think to respond with. As if she had summoned it, the second shadowy blue-gray figure began to waddle toward her like a possessed bluish bowling pin. "Errr....uggg... ahhhhhhh...," she said as she backed away from both pieces of sports equipment. Shelley stumbled against a wardrobe, one she could have sworn hadn't been in the room before. Her hand landed on something small and plastic. She picked it up and was shocked to discover it was a toy plastic tarantula. "Eeeiyaew," she said, shuddering, and dropped it to the floor at her feet. This seemed to upset a small plate-sized shadow on the floor, and it began to, well, *scuttle* towards her. A bit too fast for comfort. In the dimness of the room, Shelley glanced around nervously, her hand clammy and supporting her against the wall. She saw other shadows, about the same size. They were stationary, but by then Shelley wouldn't have been surprised if every inanimate object began to move. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark enough to make what the shadow that had stopped a few feet away was. "Oh goodness," she said, a scream welling up in her throat. She swallowed. "Oh my. Oh dear. Oh--" It was a huge, *hairy* -SPIDER-. In all the world, there was nothing Shelley feared more than arachnids. It was a phobia begun in childhood that no one had ever understood. She had been teased about it for many, many years, she had even gone to a hypnotist, but the phobia remained intact and as strong as ever. As her mind registered the spider moving toward her again, the phobia kicked in full force. "EEEEKKKK!" Shelley screamed, for the second time that day. "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!" she repeated, backing quickly away. Tripping over a bowling pin that quacked loudly in protest and fluttered about, her glasses flew to the floor as she flew onto the bed. "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKK!" she screamed again, not knowing what else to do. Landing safely on the bed, she opened her eyes for a split second; just long enough to see two gold eyes staring at her from a perch on the pillow. Her eyes closed again, as she tried to decide what those eyes were. At that point she was suspecting demons. It suddenly occurred to her... they looked akin to how her own two cats' eyes appeared in the semi-dark. A poor little kitty was trapped in this nightmare room with her. Opening up her eyes again, forgetting temporarily about the spiders and fluttering, quacking blue bowling pins, she reached out to pet the cat and reassure it. "Ahhhh, stuck in here with these awful things just like me?" she said in a soothing voice. As her hand touched the cat's neck, her brain registered flexible spines and hard bumpy... something or other... not the expected soft cat fur. It was at that point the so-called cat lifted the front of its body on two stubby legs and glared at her, flicking out a thick pink tongue and looking very territorial. Shelley realized with a sinking feeling this "cat" was about 4 feet in length and beginning to become rather upset that another creature had chosen to fall on HER bed. "Eeeek! A velociraptor!!!" Shelley cried out, running for the door at her top speed (which wasn't all that fast). As she reached the safety of the door, in a flutter of noise and commotion, *something* landed on her shoulder, holding on with sharp claws. Running down the halls of CERK screaming about dinosaurs, demon bowling pins and spiders, she finally came to a halt as she noticed the other Cousins opening their doors to see what the trouble and commotion was all about. Cousin Bean straightened her Grateful Dead T-shirt and glanced over at a Cousin across the hall. "What's going on?" Bean asked. "Beats me," Cousin Kym answered. She looked confused, and was staring at the brightly colored creature perched calmly on Shelley's shoulder. In Shelley's right ear, the animal calmly asked her, "Pardon me, but do you have any Grey Poupon?" It was the last thing Shelley remembered before passing out cold. "Um, Shelley?" Cousin Tser asked, trying to shake the other Cousin awake. "What're you doing with Jabberwock?" The Cousin wondered idly why her room's door was open. ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FmKn-00052s-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:31:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8188; Sat, 14 Aug 99 18:29:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0793; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:29:17 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 15:26:19 -0700 Reply-To: Steve Hood Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Steve Hood Subject: WAR: ENFORCERS Of Ravens and Party Crashers To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 77d9db4c5a9e8da9400309ddcd32f483 Time: Somewhere around 10-11pm on the night of the Ravenettes' party Place: the streets of Toronto (Enid's character used with permission) Seeing their party in question decided to be a no-show, Steve took one last look at Enid in that emerald-colored gown of hers and motioned to the passenger side door. "Hop in," he said, revising his original plans. This could still work. "Where are we headed?" Enid asked, dropping into the passenger-side seat. Steve threw Enid a grin. "Where else? You're ready for a party, and I happen to know where a party is." Not to mention the fact it would make a good scouting trip. He had been receiving some interesting communications from HQ. They drove through the streets and made a beeline for the Raven. "Well now," Enid replied, obviously pleased with herself. "This is cozy." Steve didn't bother to comment. He was more concerned with finding a place to park along the streets that were now jammed with cars. He found a place well away from the nightclub and parked. Enid shot him a questioning glance. "Just in case some of our factions like car games," he threw out, then hopped out of the car. He checked himself in the side-view mirror. Simple, elegant, not too classy but not plain. 'Black really is my color,' he commented to himself. He offered an arm to Enid. "Shall we?" Enid smiled and extended her arm. "Shouldn't we have the others? After all, this is the Ravenettes' party." "Hopefully there will be a few of them there," Steve replied as they walked up to the doors. Someone had brought in a decorator, judging from the festivities. Music was playing, loud enough to be heard down the streets. Then he grinned. "Besides, I'm sure there's more to this than meets the eye." "You don't think they're planning something," Enid began. Steve cut her off. "You never know, but this would be an awfully convenient place to do something if they wanted to." "You're suspicious tonight." Steve glanced around the Raven, taking in the party. Already he could see several opportunities make themselves apparent, and didn't relish the fact this could turn into something nasty. He felt for the shaver in his pocket and fought off a grin. "Opportunity knocks," he said, smiling. "I'm always suspicious." They entered into full swing, dodging a few drunks in the process. Steve eyed them with a mixture of amusement and merriment. This was going to be fun. "We need something to drink," he declared. Enid capped him on the hand. "Behave," she said. "Relax," Steve replied, glancing over at the bar and at the unmistakable presence of the bartender. "Any preferences?" "Something sweet," Enid shot back. Steve laughed and made his way across the Raven toward the bar. Absently, he thought of what the Ravenettes might do, and what he might do. 'Opportunities,' he thought. Tonight was going to be interesting. _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fmbj-0007Sl-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:48:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2084; Sat, 14 Aug 99 18:46:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1344; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:46:54 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:46:53 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War: Knighties: Cooking Blues (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4169a6d3f76e4044f38a6f6f5dc2cfeb Knighties: Cooking Blues by Knightie Katrinka Time: Saturday 8-14-99 Mindy, Jenn, Nancy, Nick Knight and the Caddie used with permission Katrinka was bored. Here she was, just sitting around waiting for something to happen. She knew she should do something, the problem was what? She didn't want to intrude on the leaders and ask if she was needed. She knew from experience that leaders had their hands full. She glanced over at all the paperwork she had brought from work. The tons of things a Special Education teacher must do, IEP's, Class Schedules, paperwork upon paperwork. No, she wasn't bored enough to do that! Katrinka couldn't help but overhear two of the Knightie Co-Leaders talking a few feet away. "I know he's a vampire, but couldn't Nick keep some kind of snacks around?" Nancy asked Jenn. "Now that he's human, it's even more important." "I agree," Jenn said. "We need to be here for Nick. Someone's bound to notice everyone going out for take-out." "We need a cook!" Katrinka stepped forward. "I'll do it. I love to cook." "Do you know how much work it would take for you to cook for all the Knighties?" Nancy asked. "Are you sure you want to commit yourself to this?" "Of course I do. I used to work in a bakery, so I am used to cooking for a crowd." She couldn't help but smile. "I teach for 30 kids, all at different levels. I must plan for all their education individually. If I can do that, I can cook for a bunch of Knighties!" "Okay, you're hired." Katrinka walked to Nick, who was working on his laptop. She pulled herself to her full five feet of hight and said. "Can I use the caddy." "I supose." he sounded distracted. "Can I use the Knightie credit card?" Nick looked up to her. "What do you need it for?" "I'm going shopping for groceries, for the Knighties." Nick took out his wallet and pulled out his credit card. He handed it to Katrinka. The man suddenly looked pale. He shook his head, and the color came back to his face. "Be careful." "I will," She promised. Nick tried to smile. "Don't get any garlic okay?" "I won't." "You might take someone to help you carry groceries." Nick suggested. Nancy looked around the loft. "Anyone care to go shopping?" "I'll go," Mindy stood up to her full hight of 5'7". "Great, lets get going!" Katrinka said. ******************** "The Caddie, we're really riding in the Caddie!" Mindy marveled. "I can't believe we would travel in the Caddie. My next car has got to be a Caddie!" Katrinka pulled into the supermarket parking lot. There was something about this place that seemed strange to her. "Are you sure it's safe here? I mean with this war..." "Come on, wars are supposed to be fun!" Mindy pulled her long red hair into a pony tail. "If you say so." Katrinka parked, and they went inside. ****************** An hour later, six sackers came out of the store, they pushed large baskets filled with food. Katrinka and Mindy followed. They guided the sackers to the Caddie. The first sacker looked them over, the Caddie over, then looked back at them. "How are we going to put all this stuff in that car?" Mindy couldn't help but laugh. She went to the trunk and opened it. "This Caddie had a giant trunk!" A few minutes later the Caddie was packed with food. Mindy grabbed the keys from Katrinka and got into the car. ------------------------------ From - Sat Aug 14 19:28:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fmw2-00065b-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 19:09:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8305; Sat, 14 Aug 99 19:06:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2540; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 19:06:19 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 19:06:49 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: Cousins: McLisa Detours To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f12bb4839c62d87ee935d6e09a06de48 Cousins: McLisa Detours Time: The Morning of Friday the 13th Place: I-95 South; several blocks from CERK McLisa successfully negotiated what she always thought of as the jump to warp speed when entering a freeway, settled her car into the exact speed limit under cruise control, and sat back in her seat. Good ol' Trine. (Pronounced "Treen.") McLisa had named the dark red, four-door Saturn after her favorite student assistant in her first library job at a small Tennessee college, because the car was also a bright Tennessee girl. (For those who don't know, Saturns are made at a plant in Tennessee.) No flies on this car -- she got it right every time. She sat right back up again with a yelp. The highway had disappeared. In its place was the Toronto street which, several blocks ahead, was blighted by the presence of the CERK building. "Chill, sweetie," said a voice from the radio, which was not on. "I've got us on course and under the limit." "What the --" gulped McLisa, who suddenly wished she'd had another cup of coffee at that Bob Evans. Maybe two more cups of coffee. "Relax," the car continued. "It's me, Trine." By now McLisa had identified the voice. Trine sounded very like Dixie Carter. The human took a deep breath and tried to speak coherently. "It was that double-truck, wasn't it? I'm in a hospital in a coma, having hallucinations." She fought the impulse to scream and claw at the wheel. "Nope, I gave that jerk the slip in one rev." The Saturn pulled gracefully to a stop at one of Toronto's many trolley tracks. "Then it was one of those buses -- oh, God, I'm not dead and damned to drive for eternity, am I?" McLisa couldn't keep the whimper entirely out of her voice. "Cool it, Mom! You're fine, Trine's fine, I'm fine." A small calico-tabby cat with a white chest and paws and wide green eyes was sitting primly in the front passenger seat, tailed curled around her. Tizzie, of course, sounding remarkably like Sally Field. The car laughed softly. "Too late, kitty-cat. I already tried. She's just naturally tense. You should feel her grip on my wheel. I thought her hands were going to have to be surgically removed from the vinyl after the DC Beltway." The cat laughed, too. McLisa, slumped in her seat belt. A smile formed on her lips. It was a peaceful smile, the sort often found in the heavily tranquilized. Of course, she thought. My car and my cat -- who should be in my house in South Carolina -- are taking potshots at me and suddenly I'm in Toronto instead of crossing into Maryland from Delaware on my way home from New England. It's another war! Fanfic fairies, I'll get you for this if it's the last thing I do! **************************************************************************** ******** Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Sat Aug 14 19:54:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FnZz-0007E9-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 19:51:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2341; Sat, 14 Aug 99 19:49:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4952; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 19:49:09 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 18:51:22 -0500 Reply-To: dornhoff@prairienet.org Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Janet Dornhoff, DVM" Subject: War: Hoist By Their Own Petard To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 51a9aa3799952738591ba755624a6a42 Title: Hoist By Their Own Petard By: Janet Dornhoff and the NatPack Time: Immediately after "Dubious Weapon" Place: The Raven As Kathy and Caroline sorted through the CDs, it took a moment before they realized they had company up at the DJ's booth. Debra reached between them and snatched up the Madonna CD, while Janet started unzipping her own case of CDs and sorting through them happily. The two Ravenettes were rapidly crowded out of the booth by a growing crowd of NatPackers armed with CDs. "Uh oh," groaned Kathy. "We forgot that some of them might actually *like* this music!" "So what?" asked Caroline. "They take over the torture and draw all the heat from other factions. They can't pick anything worse than what we were going to play anyway." "Are you sure about that?" Judy had just found the Rick Springfield CD, and was cuing up "Walk of Life." "There's new meaning in my life, but there's pain and confusion And I'm trying to understand all of the changes As if it ain't hard enough, this life I'm living in, I was caught with my guard down when the world came knocking!" Another enthusiastic NatPacker wanted to go on to "Bop Til You Drop," but was talked out of doing two Ricks in a row. "Save it for later," Janet suggested, pulling out a different CD. "Ye gods," exclaimed Caroline, "Is that really Belinda Carlisle?" "Circle in the sand, round and round, Neverending love is what we've found And you complete the heart of me, Our love is all we need..." The weaker Ravenettes were beginning to writhe in pain. NatPacker music was about as un-Raven as you could get. "Janette's gonna kill us," Kathy moaned. A scuffle broke out between fans of Nick-and-Nat and fans of Nat-without-Nick. Belinda was briefly replaced by Ace of Base. "How could a person like you bring me joy? I saw the sign, and it opened up my mind I am happy now living without you, I've left you, oh oh ooh" There might have been a sub-war then and there, but Janet stepped in holding another CD from her case, and both mini-factions collapsed into giggles. She slipped it onto the changer and cued up a new song. "Oh, no!" Kathy and Caroline clapped their hands tightly over their ears as the opening strains of The Village People's "YMCA" began drifting through the room. Moans and cries from all the ultra-cool factions drowned out the lyrics for a moment, the poor Ravenettes realizing that there were some things that just should *not* be allowed in The Raven. The FoDs, meanwhile, were disco dancing their hearts out. Tracy looked confused -- even Rick Springfield was before her time -- but her fans were enjoying the change to perky music instead of the usual gloom. Only the too-cool-for-this types were suffering, and serves them right! As the bedlam died down, the lyrics became audible, and it quickly became obvious that this wasn't the Village People after all... "I go to learn from the Y-O-D-A I go to learn from the Y-O-D-A He knows everything about wrong and right You can become a Jedi Knight" The NatPackers who'd come up in the van had already heard this one; indeed, many of them were singing along enthusiastically. A dozen different voices, all doing bad impersonations of Grover. "Young man, listening to me are you? Young man, I'm nine hundred and two... Then his last words were a real shocker 'There is a-noth-er Sky--walk---er!'" Masked by the music and renewed groans, Janet whispered to Debra and Judy, "You can't get any more opposite the Raven's usual soundtrack this!" Together, they bounded out on the floor, arms swinging into letter shapes as they sang the chorus with gusto. The booth was safe for now -- those who might have wanted to cut off the CD were in too much pain to make it that far. The CD changer was already programmed to segue into "Celebration" next, followed by "I Will Survive" taped straight off the In & Out video. *Let's see how many of the UFers are up and dancing for that one!* -Janet "Different drummer? I'm my own band!" Mulder & Scully in 2000 -- Trust No One Else! From - Sat Aug 14 23:57:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fo12-0002fF-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:19:12 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8519; Sat, 14 Aug 99 20:17:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6110; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:17:02 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:19:00 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: After the Tour (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8921402b0bee9d7082b39cfd1df60b1f Title: Cousins LCL: After the Tour (1/1) Date: Friday, August 13th Time: late afternoon/early evening just after "Tour Guides are Us (1/1)" By Arletta Asbury A few minutes later Arletta returned to the foyer where she found Annette struggling to memorize the historical pamphlet. Annette complained, "I need more time to study this stuff. It just doesn't make any sense and I can't concentrate under pressure! We should put up a sign that says the tours are canceled. At least for a couple of days...." Arletta shook her head before asking, "Where's Shelley?" Annette nodded toward one of the matching pair of rooms off the foyer. "Uhh, I'm not sure she's calmed down yet." Sighing audibly, Arletta decided that she'd have to face Shelley sooner or later. "We need to talk. The three of us I mean." Annette followed Arletta into the larger room. "We have another problem," Arletta began. The others looked at her with 'Oh no!' expressions on their faces. "Uhh, I've been thru all the rooms and THIS is the best furnished one." Unconsciously all three of them looked around at the nearly bare room. It contained a window seat (sans cushions) an old, torn, and obviously abandoned upholstered chair and a couple of straight wooden chairs like the ones in the foyer. "Actually that's not true either," she corrected herself. "Maybe the dining room is actually the best furnished one. It has a LARGE table and more of those chairs," she pointed at the pair of straight wooden ones. "That's what they are ... dining room chairs, I mean. But this room has ... uh ... the most COMFORTABLE furniture." "Huh?" Annette asked, not understanding. "I couldn't find any furnished bedrooms, Arletta continued. "How do YOU feel about sleeping on the floor? MY back isn't up to it," she announced firmly. Shelley gasped, "Mine either." She paused in thought then suddenly announced, "I can stay at CERK," and she smiled. "I'm a cousin after all." "Do you think the Cousinly leaders would let the rest of us stay there too?" Arletta asked. "After all Lacroix seemed to accept us as followers of his, last war. Sorta. Eventually," she added, remembering how they were 'escorted' out of CERK originally. "Maybe we could stay at a motel," Annette suggested helpfully. Before she had a chance to reply, Arletta spotted a group of people thru the window. They were walking up the sidewalk towards their front door. "Uhhh, I'll call you on your cell phone when I've found a place for us to stay tonight." Shelley, following Arletta's gaze, realized what was about to happen and quickly added, "I'm coming too! You may need my help at CERK." The pair grabbed the cats and scurried out the door before Annette could discover that another tour group was about to arrive ... ------------------------------------ Once outside the headquarters, they were stopped by one of the latest arrivals who asked, "How was the tour?" "There's nothing quite like it," Arletta muttered as she and Shelley hurried past the group. Shelley was glaring at both the tour member's question and Arletta's reply. They had taken only a couple of further steps when Brandi's overenthusiastic dog nearly knocked them down in greeting. "Oh sorry," Brandi apologized as she tugged on his leash. Brandi might have been more successful if she hadn't also been carrying a large cat carrier. "Am I late?" "No. We're ... ah ... just about to ... ah ... why don't you follow us?" Arletta stammered, surprised. The cat she was holding squirmed a little as if she were trying to return the dog's greeting. "We're on our way to CERK to see if they'll let us stay there." Brandi looked puzzled but turned and followed the others back down the sidewalk. From - Sat Aug 14 23:57:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fo3C-0000MR-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:21:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8531; Sat, 14 Aug 99 20:19:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6277; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:19:17 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:20:57 EDT Reply-To: EAElias@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tammy Horn Subject: WAR: Vaqs: A Vaq and Her Dog (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a35d0c7bad2da3a59a4d6dd7c8f6bed2 A Vaq and Her Dog Aug 14, 1999 Vachon's Church/Vaq HQ After the museum trip As the assembled Vaqs trooped in from heir foray to the Museum, Tammy was greeted by fourteen pound of high strung dog. "Knabe? Knabe, get down," Tammy pushed the wriggling animal off of her and bent down to pick him up before he knocked anyone over with his over anxious attentions. "What are you doing here anyway, Buddy?" Tammy was absolutely sure that she had left the long legged Weiner dog back in Dallas, safely with her roommate. Attacted to his collar was a piece of paper. She reached over, took the piece of paper from where it had been tied to his collar. It was slightly chewed and somewhat wet on the edges, but she carefully opened the she unfolded the note and read it. "Great, he missed me and was going psycho nut case so now he's here on vacation too. At least he'll have company," Tammy said as she looked around at the other Vaq animals slacking in the churchyard and inside. "That's the oddest weiner dog I've ever seen," Tracy Sue said, noting that he stood at least twice as tall as any other daschie she'd ever seen. "Oh, that's cause he's not a pure bred daschie. I got him at the pound, we think he's part terrier, so I guess the proper technical term is Daschbrache which is an ancient German breed of dog, very rare these days, that was developed to...." Tammy looked around at the glazed eyes of her fellow Vaqs."What?" "You some kind of dog breeder or something?" "No, I'm an archeologist. My particular areas of interest just so happens to be Medieval and Renaissance Germany, that and New World colonial era, especially, um pirates." Tammy looked sheepishly at Vachon, wondering if he'd read any of her fiction. "And American Civil War." "Hold on a sec, you didn't tell anyone that you knew about this sort of stuff," Vachon said. "Well, actually, I did mention it to the VaqAdjunct, and I already volunteered to help, I just need to contact a couple of people first, get some leads on where to go. But it's Saturday, and I don't know how many people are going to be home." Tracy Sue and Vachon just pointed inside the Church. "Get to it." "Ok." Tammy walked into the nave of the Church and after checking with Nafs on her progress, she grabbed her cell phone. Then, sitting on her sleeping bag in the corner of the nave with Knabe by her side, his head on her knee, she called a couple of people and made arrangements to get access to some university libraries around Toronto. "Some vacation, huh Buddy?" she said as she scratched behind Knabe's ear. "You know, I'm glad I know these people. I wasn't sure if it would be useful or not, but it just goes to show: you never know what will be useful in war 'til it's needed." Tammy waited patiently as the first of her calls rang through. fin From - Sat Aug 14 23:57:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fo6I-0001V7-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:24:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8542; Sat, 14 Aug 99 20:22:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6440; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:22:30 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 19:24:42 -0500 Reply-To: dornhoff@prairienet.org Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Janet Dornhoff, DVM" Subject: War: Oops! Timing correction To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f1f83c56817bc64f4f60674f928267a2 Oops! I guess "Hoist By Their Own Petard," which I said would go right after "Dubious Weapon," should also come just after "Bouncing Matilda." No actual conflict, but let's avoid confusion if we can. ;-) [I was gone just before the war; somebody e-mail me off-list if I'm posting this to the wrong place. I'm still sorting through the gazillion planning posts. Thanks!] -Janet Button of the Day: "All I need to know, I learned from killing smart people and eating their brains!" From - Sat Aug 14 23:57:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fo9o-0000Zz-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:28:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8553; Sat, 14 Aug 99 20:26:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6566; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:26:05 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 00:27:55 GMT Reply-To: "Mildred G. Cady" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Mildred G. Cady" Subject: WAR: MERC: Danger! Boredom has set in... To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c711a349aeaaeb6db3463cd7ac97ac1e Merc: Danger! Boredom has set in... by Mildred Cady Time/Place: Saturday, Merc Central ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This was just *wrong*. She had nothing to do. The Merc Mommy General was bored out of her mind. No job requests had come in, so she couldn't give any assignments out to the few Mercs who were in Merc Central. The computers were running smoothly. Her personal project was running on its own time, and would go faster if she *didn't* get involved just now. IRC, ICQ, and AIM seemed empty of FKers. There was no gossip on-line to glean hints about the plans of other factions. She couldn't figure out what that darn bauble the Laurie and the other leaders were wearing was. She had watched the DVD of "Bleeders" (which isn't FK), "Star Trek Insurrection," and popped on a satellite TV to watch the TV movie "Legionaire". Hell, she even called her mother. And even the Ratpack wasn't bothering her. She was *BORED*. Now, there isn't anything more dangerous in the FK universe than a bored Merc. Especially if that Merc is the Mommy General. (Ok, there *is* one thing more dangerous- and that's a bored Merc Grand High Poobah, but that's another story...) Then she got an idea. Several of them. A *lot* of them. Now everyone knows that a Merc is hired for a job. But if there's no jobs to tie them too, who knows what mischief they can get into. So she started writing down her ideas, into a file. And it took her a *long* time to type them all. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Author's note: Ok... Send in your jobs, and give me something to do, before I go a little rouge and create mischief on my own. :) _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 14 23:58:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FpQa-00036J-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 21:49:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8755; Sat, 14 Aug 99 21:47:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9451; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 21:47:31 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 20:52:04 -0500 Reply-To: Jill Kirby Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jill Kirby Subject: WAR: NP: Settling in To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ebce0d3f7932a292af2044385c8349ff Settling In By Jill Kirby, Debra Ann Fiorini, and the rest of the NatPack Friday the 13th Late afternoon/early evening, after "War? Whaddaya Mean, War?" The large group of NatPackers (are they a gaggle? A flock? No one knows; scientific study has been limited at best) stood in front of Nat's door. For some reason no one knocked. "She call " murmured Melissa. "That probably means she's expecting us." " of us?" Janet asked doubtfully, then took a deep breath and knocked. "Just a sec!" Nat's voice called from inside, and a moment later she answered the door. After a moment of visible shock at the sheer number of NatPackers standing there, she recovered and smiled. "My. You're here! Come on in!" Barely waiting to be invited, the NatPackers poured in to Nat's apartment, stopping to greet their favorite coroner. "You look great, Nat!" enthused Kim. Nat's hair was a little shorter, and she looked healthy and happy. Nat hugged Kim quickly. "Thanks. So do you." She did a double-take at the sight of James. "Wait, a guy? A guy that's not Jack?" Valerie laughed. "Jack stays the heck away from Wars. He's holding down the wedding-planning fort while I'm up here." James introduced himself, a little sheepishly. The other NatPackers who'd never been to Toronto for a War before-- Janet, Meg, and Melissa-- crowded around, hugging and babbling at Nat. Melissa goggled at the great Natalie Lambert. She was actually here, in Toronto meeting THE Natalie Lambert. Resisting the urge to bow to her knees and scream "I'm not worthy!" she opted for pulling out a picture of her cat. "I, um, named my cat after you. This is Natalie the cat." She held up the photo of a black and white cat with a half black face, half white face. Natalie grinned and took the photo as a big grey tabby cat jumped on the couch. Natalie held the photo out for him. "Hey Sydney . See the kitty named after me?" Sydney leaned towards the photo and sniffed it for a moment. No longer interested, the cat jumped off the couch and started playing with the various feet standing around. "She's a very pretty cat," Natalie said with a smile as she handed the photo back to Melissa. Melissa just beamed. The Pack members who'd been there before-- some more times than they cared to count-- went about the usual settling-in tasks: finding a corner to stow stuff in, checking food supplies, stocking up the CD player with Pack-appropriate music. It wasn't a headquarters, but it was comfortable and homey and very Nat, which made it OK with everyone. "Where's the dark chocolate?" Judy called, rummaging in the kitchen. "Ummm-- second shelf, behind the brownie mix," replied Nat. Robyn and Jill maneuvered around the room, getting everyone something to drink, being annoyingly hostessy in a good sort of way, until everyone got settled. Nat, of course, got the most comfortable chair; the rest of the Pack piled around on the couch and the floor and tables and anything else they could perch upon. "So," said Debra Ann, taking a long drink of her lemonade. "You rang?" "No one had many details, Nat," Meredith added. "Before I forget-- there's apparently a party at the Raven tonight, everyone," Nat said with a smile. "I know how much all of you like parties. Just don't do 'Phantom' again, please." "That was Wars ago," said Jennie, mustering what dignity she could. "We're more mature now," added Jill. There was a moment of silence, and then the entire room burst into hysterical laughter. "Anyway," Nat went on, wiping tears from her eyes, "I just knew something was up. I saw all kinds of people I recognized from previous Wars, and there was some unusual activity around some of the other... headquarters." "So you think it's Wartime?" Robyn asked. Nat shrugged. "One can never be sure-- but I think something's up. It's best to have you all here, just in case." "Well, it's always best to be prepared," Linda Rose said brightly. The rest of the NatPackers nodded in solemn agreement.* "Well, we're here and we're ready to rock, so let the games begin," Debra Ann laughed. "Can we eat first?" asked Jennie plaintively, just as the phone rang. There was general agreement that Food Was Necessary, and conversations over what type of food should be gotten commenced (quietly) as Natalie answered her telephone. "What?" The conversation lulled. Natalie had gone pale, and hung up the phone carefully. Nat glanced at the faces around her. "That was Nick," she said softly. "I've got to head over to the loft." As the NatPack en masse started to ask her the inevitable question, she held up one hand. "I'll explain when I get home. You guys get food, go to the party-- whatever." The Pack watched as Natalie hurried out the door, barely remembering her car keys. "I don't like this," James murmured Lynn shook her head. "This has to do with the War." ********** *Before anyone comments that "truly prepared people don't get lost in every single smegging city they've tried to drive in," let us note that between the assembled NatPack's luggage, we could: 1) Stock a small infirmary. Very well. 2) Stock a specialty clinic for asthmatics. Extremely well. 3) Stock a small record store (heavy on the Celtic, musicals, and 80's). 4) Stock a small veterinary clinic. 5) Outfit the staff of a small hospital in scrubs. 6) Run a pretty profitable book fair, if you could pry the books away from us. 6) Last but not least, we may get lost, but we always get there. :) Jill Kirby ** kirby@enteract.com New homepage location: http://jillkirby.webjump.com 'Oh the horror! Oh, the humanity! Oh, the ANGST!' "What's an angst?" 'Oh, it's like a cross but with a little loopy bit on top...' --JB From - Sat Aug 14 23:58:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fpsd-0004ij-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 22:18:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8845; Sat, 14 Aug 99 22:16:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0709; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 22:16:32 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 22:09:43 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS: Weaving Profit (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 140e171717515f3fd3db247e321d8a3b MERCS: Weaving Profit (1/1) By Laurie Mercbard TIME: Sometime Saturday evening Everyone used with permission "Life as a Merc isn't too thrilling so far," Beth grumbled to herself, as she and Ezmee lugged the Nunkie in Repose tapestry into the GHP's office. Laurie had come charging into the main hall, followed closely by Mildred, commandeered the two newbie Mercs, and ordered them to take the tapestry down and bring it into her office. Once the two Mercs had hung the weaving on the far office wall, they hovered uncertainly behind the GHP as she and her second in command stared at the near naked Nunkie. "I didn't know the GHP liked Nunkies," Ezmee whispered, careful not to catch the Guild leader's attention. Not catching the GHP's attention was a cardinal rule for a newbie Merc. Pay your dues, find your jobs, and keep out of her way, Merc Newbie Wrangler Wooby had told them during the brief training they'd received. Beth opened her mouth to answer, when the GHP addressed a question to Mildred. "You're sure it's the same one?" she queried querulously. "Looks the same to me, although I'm no Nunkies ... er, I mean Nunkie ..." she corrected herself at the GHP's glare ... "Addict. I'm telling you, Laurie, I saw the exact same tapestry hanging over the Raven bar last night." The three Mercs stared in horror, as Laurie's color began to rise. Well, the two new Mercs, never having seen a possible Poobah explosion before, stared in horror. Mildred just looked resigned. Suddenly, the demonic look in the GHP's eyes changed into $ signs. "Well, if those Addicts had two of them, this piece of non-art must be in demand. Did you know there are 32 NA members this war?" she asked. "And I bet every single one of them would like a tapestry of their own. In fact, I'd bet they'd be willing to pay dearly for it. You know, unspecified favors to be collected later, that kind of thing." She waved her hand airily. Mildred sighed. "Laurie, after last war, somehow I think NA isn't going to be too eager to do business with us. Besides, they won't be able to afford it. Didn't we freeze their assets?" "Ah, but there's been a great deal of frenzied activity over at the Shrine lately. Along with their tapestry, they seem to have misplaced their roof. Looks like they're redecorating. Somehow they've got their hands on some dough." Laurie delivered this information in amazingly calm fashion, considering her feelings toward the Addicts. Profit always calmed her down. Then again, so did valium, but valium was harder to come by these days. "Besides," and here she chortled gleefully, "My inside sources tell me there are quite a few newbie NAers this war. And their leaders are all so busy posting six part stories and dealing with Revenue Canada --- that reminds me, has anyone heard from Pectin lately? -- that I bet no one's even recapped the events of last war to the new recruits." Mildred nodded, as Ezmee and Beth grinned. "Yeah, and I doubt they'll be able to resist the temptation of having their very own General to drool over." She noticed the GHP shudder; so, she thought to herself, Laurie did still have some concerns about LaCroix. "Right, Mildred, set it up. I think there's enough room behind the chocolate factory to set up a tapestry factory. And make them good quality. I want them to be as close to the original as possible." "Will do, boss." The Mommy General headed out the door, followed by the two Mercs. As the Poobah turned back to stare again at near-naked Nunkie, F. Hugh flitted excitedly back and forth, diving up and down in front of the tapestry, desperately trying to find out what a Roman General wore under his toga. * * * From - Sat Aug 14 23:58:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fq5m-00077L-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 22:32:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1130; Sat, 14 Aug 99 22:30:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1622; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 22:30:05 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 22:31:31 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Slumbering at the Shrine (01/02) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 49fec6a534d8ba77535ca39101e4a6f6 NA: Slumbering at the Shrine 01/02 By Patt Elmore Time: Just before midnight, Sat., Aug. 14, 1999 Place: NA Shrine Addicts used with their permission and insistence ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As night deepened on the second day of War and construction, the addicts began to weary, and sleep became a necessity. Although a compromise had been struck between the addicts (in the form of Patt) and the ex-vampires (embodied by Foreman Kriel), allowing the addicts access to their bedrooms after a certain hour, all bets were off once Kriel tired of addict interference and torched Patt's white flag. Ceiling plaster in the upstairs bedrooms continued to fall. Therefore, to ensure addict safety, the second floor had to be vacated, and addict beds were now strewn throughout the Shrine proper. "We look like a mob family getting ready for battle," Bram complained as she plumped her pillow. "Well, we sorta are, aren't we?" Jesse grinned. The teenage addict had opted for a sleeping bag on a mattress on the floor. She was snuggled inside it, writing in a journal. "Considering we're at War, I guess we are," Bram agreed grumpily. "What are you writing on, Jess?" "My monthly column," Jesse answered. "High school does not stop for War, you know." "Isn't school out for the summer?" Caren entered the conversation. "For a couple more weeks," Jesse replied. "But, with classes starting, homework beginning, etc., I didn't want to be late with my first article. Editors frown at that, you know." "Boy, do they," Nite chimed in. The dark-haired addict took another sip from her Lambrusco and recurled comfortably on her bed. "Try writing poetry on demand. It can be a real trial." "Yeah, not much inspiration working at a retail store, is it?" Tiff said sympathetically, looking up from her SciFi paperback. "But at least writers only have to get permission slips. Try being a filmmaker and dealing with getting government permits--especially in small town USA." "Life's a witch," Patt said, popping another palm full of Chex Mix into her mouth. "Be careful how you refer to pagans," Bram warned. She waggled her fingers and started, "N . . ." Patt gave the addict a hard look. "Do it, and I'll crawl up your leg," the mature addict threatened. Bram's expression quickly went from glaring to sweet. "Just kidding, oh NunkDenMother. I'm saving up my share of the force for vampish types. Did you know that one actually *ordered* me to fetch him some nails today?" "So, did you take Nite to him, or not?" Caren asked with a sly smile. Nite caught the pun and grinned. She waved her bat-detailed fingernails at the other addicts and cackled evilly. All of the addicts broke into laughter. Caren suddenly turned serious. "What's this I heard about you having a run-in with one of the vamps, Jesse? Wasn't it pretty serious?" "I guess it could have been," Jess replied with a shrug. "Details, details!" several addicts requested in unison. "Forewarned is forearmed," Patt nodded through a mouthful of Doritos . "Go ahead and tell them, Jess." "Well, when I was taking them some water, one of them forgot his dietary needs had changed and decided I looked like snack food," the teenager explained. Several addicts gasped aloud. "How'd you get free?!" Bram asked. "Well," Jess grinned, "it seems these guys are just like other mortal fellows. They respond negatively to pain inflicted to their groin area." "Way to go, Jesse!" Several addicts hooted their approval, while others high-fived. "It's a good reminder of what we're dealing with here," Patt said seriously. The addicts quieted and gave the mature addict their full attention. "Vampire or non-vampire, these folks have lived very long lives and are very set in their ways. They could hurt you--so let's be careful out there." "Okay, sergeant!" Supaige murmured in her sleep. The blonde addict had been fast asleep on one of the divans since 9 p.m. Now, she snorted and rolled over, a fragment of the 'Hill Street Blues' theme soft on her lips. "That doesn't sound like Barry Manilow," Monica observed, breaking into one of her award winning grins. "And how would you be acquainted with Mr. Manilow, Ms. New Yawk?" Alanna looked up from her PC, which she had insisted on bringing downstairs. "Have you got a secret addiction you'd like to share with the rest of us?" "Sure thing, Ms. Zydeco," Monica shot back, displaying well over thirty-two teeth. "But, pass the chips and *salsa* first, please." "Don't take my Cajun in vain," Patt warned, helping herself to the nacho bowl as it was passed through several addict hands. "I've got a craving for red beans and rice that you wouldn't believe." "Thank goodness it's unavailable," Caren observed with a sly grin, "or we'd all be seeking alternate sleeping accommodations--or insisting that you do." "Familiarity breeds contempt," Patt noted. "And beans do, too," Jesse smiled. There was a tittering of laughter, which coincided with the return of Ivy and Lisl from the kitchen/lab. "What's so funny?" Ivy asked, settling herself on her cot. Lisl pulled an overstuffed chair up to the other blonde's bed and seated herself. "Yeah, what's so funny?" "We were discussing Patt's dietary functions," Heather explained. "And that particular thread has been abandoned on the list," Patt added. "Next subject?" "Awwwwwwwwww," the addicts protested. Patt gave them all a warning look and, surprisingly, they complied with silence. Except for Jennifer. "Speaking of dietary functions . . ." Jen began. "Careful . . ." Patt warned. "You'll be sleeping in the stables with Coup tonight." Patt stopped joking, though, when she saw the serious expression on Jennifer's face. "What is it, Jen?" "It's my babies," Jennifer said, concern etching deep lines in her forehead. Both kitties were snuggled on the bed with the young addict, enjoying the warmth and company of their mistress. Jennifer wiggled her fingers under the covers, allowing Patoot to pounce on the movement, while Guinivere tried to wedge herself between Jen's knees. "They didn't eat their dinner tonight." Patt frowned. "Neither did Gwendolyn." While most of Cousin Leader Tser's Cousinly Critters were in residence at CERK, Gwen had opted to remain at the Shrine, under Patt's watchful care. "Anyone else's kitty companion off their food?" "Lucius seems to be okay," Heather said. "At least I think so . . . let me go check his bowl." The MacCousin got up from her bed and padded toward the kitchen/lab. "I hope the kitties are all okay," Ivy said, reaching out to scratch Patoot's head. The Calico arched, seeming to enjoy the feel of Ivy's fingers on her back. "So do I," Tiff noted. Several other addicts nodded. Their brief moment of solace, however, was broken by the sound of Heather's panicked cry. "OH MY GAWD!!!!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part 01/02 to be continued patt79ad@juno.com From - Sat Aug 14 23:58:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FqXp-0000HQ-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 23:01:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1302; Sat, 14 Aug 99 22:58:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3427; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 22:58:46 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 23:00:14 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Slumbering at the Shrine (02/02) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b22d4a2726c80e71d92542f0bb5fbb14 NA: Slumbering at the Shrine 02/02 By Patt Elmore Time: Just before midnight, Sat., Aug. 14, 1999 Place: NA Shrine Addicts used with their permission and insistence ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Several addicts were already on their feet when Heather burst back into the Shrine altar room. The MacCousin's face was ashen and her expression unreadable. "Heather!" Caren ran toward the other addict. "Are you okay? Is Lucius all right?" Heather pulled up short, just before colliding with the Louisiana addict. "Lucius?" Caren placed her hands on the MacCousin's shoulders and gave her an odd look. "Your cat? You went to check on your cat." "Oh." Addict eyes shifted from Heather to the Kitchen/Lab door. It was a joint, unspoken decision that something sinister was behind the portal. Slowly, the door began to swing open. "OH MY GAWD!!!" the addicts cried out. "No, just me." A rather scruffy looking Erik entered the Shrine proper, holding a glass of milk and blinking sleepily. "What's up?" "You tell us," Patt said, giving the male addict a cursory look. "What freaked Heather out?" "He's . . . he's . . . he's wearing a *NICKIE* dress!!" Heather stammered. And, indeed, the Nunkamale looked quite resplendent in his circa 1200 nightshirt, complete with puffed sleeves and laced neckline. Monica elbowed Tiff. "Wonder if he has anything on under there?" "Does he with his kilt?" Tiff replied. Caren and Heather both turned toward Erik, viewing him with new interest. Erik perked up a bit with the attention and smiled. "Oh, I can see now that this is not gonna work," Patt observed. "Erik, hon, we luv ya, you know, but you can't sleep in here with the ladies." "Awwwwwwwwwww," the addict chorus sounded again. Patt made a waving motion with her hand. "I'm not concerned with the non-Vestal virtue of most of you, but we do have to consider that we have a blushing bride-to-be in our midst. Having a male companion in her bed chamber would not be appropriate." "Booooooooooooooooooooo," the addict chorus replied, punctuated by several tongue movements. "That's okay," Erik said, gathering up his pillows and blanket. "I'll just find a private place in one of the anterooms. After all," he turned and offered the addicts a final grin, "I have *my* virtue to protect." "Booooooooooooooooooo," the chorus followed his departure. "Okay, settle down." The Third Cousin reached for a handful of pretzels, but Nite moved the bowl away from Patt's reach. Patt looked at Nite with annoyance, but did not comment. "Several of you have big plans for tomorrow. Time to get some sleep." "And art made tongue-tied by authority," Egrus Toga bleeped into action. The little blender-bot had been busily whirring at his drill cleaning duties. Now, that task finished, his verbal capacity enabled. "Et tu, Egrus?" Patt gave the bot a withering look. "How'd you like to spend the night in the vacuum cleaner closet?" The bot made a rude noise, and rolled over closer to Niteflyer. "OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!" This time the shriek came from the direction of the anteroom hallway. Addict heads turned, all eyes focused on the hallway entrance. Erik appeared first, moving swiftly, his linens clutched protectively about his person. In a moment, a woman, for want of better phrasing, appeared. High-heeled slipper in hand, she chased the offending male addict into the Shrine proper, never stopping until she almost tripped over a cot. Jules straightened herself, staring at the women, who couldn't help but stare at the HP. "What?" Jules demanded. No one answered. Even Patt was speechless. "What?" Jules repeated, her tone brusque. "Your face . . ." one of the addicts managed to say. "Your hair!" another added. Jules, you see, had claimed one of the private anterooms turned bed chamber, with a terse statement regarding her need for sleep and specific instructions that NO ONE disturb her. Now the addicts had a firsthand view of what Jules' beauty regimen demanded. The HP's auburn hair was encased in large, fat, pink curlers and her face was smeared with avocado green masque. "Oh, my," Patt said quietly. She began to move toward the HP. "I thought she was a Martian," Erik called from his spot behind one of the pillars. "She scared the hell out of me." "I want blood," Jules said, starting toward the male. "Down, girl," Patt blocked Jules' path. Jules caught the Third Cousin's nose and gave it a twist. "Out of my way, twit." "Run, Erik!" Patt cried, her voice even more nasally than usual, due to external appendage compression. "Run for your life!" "Ben Gazarra . . ." Supaige moaned in her sleep, a happy smile drifting across her lips. Erik ran. Jules watched the male addict disappear through the Kitchen/Lab doors, then released her grip on Patt. With the dignity befitting her station and authority, the HP turned and walked back to the anteroom hallway entrance. Once in the hallway arch, she turned and looked at the assembled addicts. She held up one forefinger. "This," she said, her voice so deadly serious that it sent a tremor through the walls, "never . . . happened." Upon her departure, several addicts shook their heads, as if to clear them of some unseen intrusive force. "That was weird," Monica noted. "Kind of like the pendant I found." "Pendant?" Dragon Sallie had been quietly snoring under one of the Shrine divans until now, but with the talk of jewelry, she slithered from her den and lifted her head for a look-see. "Dragon want to see, please." "Okay." Monica reached under her T-shirt and pulled the charm out for closer examination. "I found it while we were rescuing Bonnie at CERK. I got spooked by a dinosaur." She looked at Dragon and smiled. "No offense" "None taken." Sallie smiled back and extended a hand. "Closer look?" "Sure." Monica removed the pendent from her neck and handed it to Sallie. "I ducked into one of the offices at CERK, and this pendant was just sitting on one of the blotters. It kind of called out to me." "So you stole it?" Lisl asked. "If someone valued it, they should have taken better care of it," Monica replied. "Looks like silver," Sallie commented, placing the pendant between her teeth. "Tastes like gold." "And with that message, it provides me the golden opportunity to remind you ladies that many of you have a busy schedules tomorrow," Patt spoke up. "Lights out in five minutes." The addicts protested again, but knew that Patt was right. Sallie handed the element back to Monica, who slipped it around her neck again. Pillows were plumped for final comfort, books were closed and the lights turned off. "To sleep . . ." Egrus bleeped. "To die . . ." Patt's voice was soft. "Bye bye!" Egrus chirped. "You ain't gettin the last word, bot." Silence. "Good night, John Boy," Supaige murmured. ******************************** The end 02/02 patt79ad@juno.com From - Sat Aug 14 23:58:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fqkl-0006Hv-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 23:14:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3138; Sat, 14 Aug 99 23:12:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5610; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 23:12:30 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 23:13:53 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA: Don't Leave the Shrine Without It (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 02df641d1f89f1c1c46ab3c681692b35 Title: Don't Leave the Shrine Without it (3/3) AUTHOR: Christy Stillman TIME: Saturday, August 14, 11:30 p.m./Sunday, August 15, shortly after midnight NOTES: Dee, Glennis and Patt used with permission. Many thanks and hugs to all three for beta reading all this stuff for me. Special hugs to Patt and Bons for mentoring all us War newbies. "My feet hurt," complained Dee. "And so do my arms." She tried flopping her package-laden arms to demonstrate her point, but they were so weighted down with shopping bags that she couldn't raise them. "What time is it, anyway?" asked Glennis as she tried to create a more perfect balance by shifting a couple of bags from her right arm to her left. "I don't know," answered Christy. "My watch is buried underneath a bag from Vicki's Vixenwear. Not to mention the ones from Limitless, Old Mariner's, and Shoes-A-Zillion" "You have *seven* bags from Shoes-A-Zillion," Dee pointed out. Christy shot her a glare, "Details, details." Looking around, Glennis spotted a bank with a flashing digital clock. "Well," she observed. "It looks like Canadian banks are better at maintaining their outside clocks than American banks." She paused as the bank's advertisement trudged it's lighted way across the screen. "WE TAKE INTEREST IN OUR CUSTOMERS," it proudly proclaimed. Glennis made a face. "They could really use some help with their slogans, though." The time flashed onto the marquee. "It's 11:30?!" exclaimed Christy. "We left hours ago! The Third Cousin is *not* going to be pleased! In fact, I'd be willing to say that she might be extremely pis...um...peeved." She shuddered to think that she, as the appointed leader of this little expedition, was probably the one at whom Patt's ire would most likely be directed. Oh well, Patt should know better than to send an easily distracted newbie out on an errand, right? It was a self-deluding, but semi-comforting thought. It was during this semi-comforting moment that Dee chose to take a good, long look at the myriad bags she and her fellow addicts were toting. "Um...you know, guys, we might have overdone it just a weeeee bit...." As the other two addicts followed her gaze, the sudden realization that they probably had indeed overdone it, and not just a wee bit, registered in their panic-stricken eyes. Heads together, The Three Nunketeers tried to calculate exactly how much they had spent on Patt's platinum card. "Oh, and don't forget the MacCousin's shower gift...that makes a grand total of..." Glennis lifted her eyes and stared at the others like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi, "...six thousand dollars...give or take a couple hundred." "Well, at least it's Canadian dollars," Dee offered. "With the exchange rate, we got more for our money." The other two glared her into silence. "Okay," Glennis the War Veteran said. "All we have to do is sneak into the Shrine and hide this stuff before Patt sees it. We can tell her we were late because we got sidetracked with some sightseeing. First thing in the morning, we each call our credit card companies and have our portion of the six grand transferred to our cards. The Mature One need never know about this little incident." Like little ceramic dogs in the rear window of a car, the two newbies bobbed their heads in enthusiastic agreement. Plotting completed, they headed back for the Shrine. The seldom-used Sacred Stables entrance seemed like a logical sneaking-in point, so they slithered through the surrounding shadows to the door and gave it a gentle push. Unfortunately, the door had its own ideas about admitting them and seemed determined to leave them stranded outside. They pushed a little harder. The door staunchly stood its ground. They gave it their best heave-ho shove. The stubborn portal stared them down and resolutely refused to budge. Dee placed her eye to a crack and surveyed the darkened interior of the Sacred Stables. "Doh! Somebody left a chariot against the door! Honestly, when will these people learn to put away their toys when they're done with them!" "Great," Glennis groaned. "Now we'll have to go through the kitchen/lab entrance. Hopefully nobody's up on a midnight tiramisu raid." Cautiously pushing the door open, they entered the kitchen/lab. "All right!" Christy whispered. "We're in luck! Not a soul in sight!" As they crept closer to the swinging doors, they heard the buzz of voices in the main hall...many, many voices. "Oh great! They've called a meeting, and we're not there. I *really* don't want to wind up with grout duty this trip," said Glennis. "I hear the HP's been handing it out right and left." "It doesn't sound like a meeting," said Dee as they moved closer. She peeked around one of the doors. "Oh my. Oh my, my, my." Her fellow addicts joined her, their heads forming an Addict Totem Pole--Dee on top, her mouth open wide; Glennis in the middle, a hand over her eyes; and Christy on the bottom, with a fixed grimace. They gasped in dismay at the scene before them. The main hall was flooded with a virtual sea of addicts in jammies. Addicts lounged, they chatted, they ate snacks and read books. Worst of all, across the room was Patt, and she looked to be a very tired, disheveled and already quite put-out Patt. This did not bode well for The Three Nunketeers. Slipping back into the concealment of the dark kitchen, they contemplated what Fate might hold in store for them. "We are SO dead," Christy stated flatly. "Maybe we should just go ahead and move into the Ratpacker tunnels." "With all these shiney-pretties on us?" Dee groaned. "We wouldn't last two minutes with our new purchases intact." About that time, the Third Cousin's voice sounded over the tumult, "All right, ladies. Time for lights out!" The lights were extinguished to a chorus of whines and cries of outrage. Patt growled them into submission and laid down. "All right, now's our chance. While it's dark and there are still a few people moving around anyway, we should have some cover," said Glennis. The three heavily-laden women tip-toed from the kitchen into the hall full of addicts in repose. From - Sat Aug 14 23:58:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FrPp-0007Od-00; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 23:57:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9385; Sat, 14 Aug 99 23:54:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7760; Sat, 14 Aug 1999 23:54:51 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 00:00:53 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: INDEPENDENT/CGW: Home Away From Home To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4b8fd09a701cd86475a7592b5e3ab61c WAR: Independent/CGW: Home Away From Home (1/1) Follows: WAR: Independent/CGW: A Glow Worm in the Night... The Fiendish Glow, Friday, August 13, 2230 EDT Lora, Pen, MacHeather, and Chris used by permission. ---------------------- I stepped out of the shamrock-logoed courtesy car that was waiting downstairs from the helishuttle that took me to Center City from the private airstrip where the Beechcraft landed the hour before. The fixed-wing craft had seemed to have a protocol of its own as it received immediate clearance to depart without any questioning of ID or customs, and landed the same way somewhere in the outskirts of Toronto. The helicopter was similarly well-appointed and similarly mysterious in its dealings with air traffic control and the local constabulary, silently alighting atop one of the tallest office buildings in town. (A helicopter? *Silent*? Hmm... something here is fishier than it appears...) A private elevator carried me and my usual work gear down to the waiting ground car... Like the aircraft I'd just flown in, Toronto seemed strangely quiet for a Friday night... as if someone had managed to turn off the sound and the life of the city. The neon signs were lit as always, but the crowds around the usual watering holes were somewhat sparser and plainer than usual. The hum of street lights, the honking of cars caught in a pile-up, the splashing of the winds over the lake... all of it was silent, as if I had suddenly gone deaf. A sheen of static was in the air, as if a storm had broken, or was about to break, effectively masking my usual Glow Worm senses. I was still lost in my own anxieties when the Ford Taurus pulled up at the corner of Luminescent Lane and Cactus Court. I stepped out of the air-conditioned sedan into the oppressive humidity of a northeastern summer night. I had barely unloaded my Targus Notepac, APCUG briefcase, and Coach handbag before the driver sped off like a demon from Hell. Presumably my *third* wardrobe would be enough to get me through the War; if not, either something would follow up from my wardrobes in New York and New Jersey, or I'd break out my Bank of Glowwing card and purchase... *something*. Preferrably something less conspicuous than the quick-and-tacky "Jalapeno Pepper" outfit I'd purchsed last year... though given my track record with the Glow and the Faer Ones, I'd probably need to stick to lots of greens... Hefting my 20kg of personal and electronic survival gear, I waddled up to the side entrance of the Fiendish Glow and maneuvered my mostly-untanned arm to the Celtic knot face plate that served as security identifier for the Celtic Glow Worms. As usual, the lock clicked open, and I elbowed my way into the small foyer and up the stairs to my usual bed. It was piled high with tartan samples, boxes of shortbread cakes, wedding favors, and various Celtic-looking tchatchkes ranging from the cheap and kitschy to the... cheap and kitschy. Well, except for the half-dozen chased-pewter quaiches peeking out from the tissue paper filling a rather large shopping bag -- they were about the only thing on the bed that looked reasonably classy. It looked as if whatever was happening with MacHeather and Chris was definitely happening on a budget. I carefully moved aside the kitsch and wedding stuff and set my few things down on the bed. Picking up a remote, I activated the closed-circuit TV before rummaging in the closet for my Aboyne-styled costume. An anomalous, loud, "Ay! Carrumbaaa!" from the direction of the cantina sent me scurrying down in my chinos and knit silk shell, ready for anything but being recognized as one of the Management. ********** "Mah nishtanah ha-lailah ha-zeh, me-kol ha-lay-lot?" (1) On all other nights, the vampires would sit quietly drinking their "Ulsterman's Specials", or perhaps sing and dance along with the band. Tonight, they... they... Come to think of it, tonight, I couldn't sense a single one of Toronto's many Undead anywhere in the Fiendish Glow -- and after dark, on the nights there was live entertainment, there were usually at least a couple of them there. That was another thing that made tonight different from all other nights of the year. In place of the live band, cantina cook Patrick "Miguel" O'Malley and "the Sombrero" were trying their damndest to break up an altercation in the cantina. *_Please_ don't tell me Liam's back in town,* I prayed to whatever deities might be listening... "Hey, babe," I felt a tap upon my shoulder, restraining me from moving further into the room. Remembering that we had security staff to handle the scene, I turned around to see Pen, dressed in her usual... *non*-costume, revelling in the energy of the fight. I could never see what Pen got out of watching bar fights. "Hey, Pen, 'sup?" I asked. "And by the by, what happened to the band?" I asked her. "Last-minute cancellation due to illness. Come to think of it, there's been a lot of that going around today... from the strangest quarters!" "Would that have anything to do with there being no vampires in the 'Glow' this evening?" Pen looked at me askance, dragging me back to the 'Glow's' office. "Vampires? Why would you think *vampires* would come to the 'Glow'? Why would you think there are vampires, any way?" Yes, indeed -- there was something *very* strange going on around here, and I was beginning to get a bit worried. ************************* The Fiendish Glow Office, 2300 Eastern Daylight Time Of anything I expected to see in the Fiendish Glow's office, *he* was the least likely. A two-foot tall, sandy-brown bear-like creature with open mouth and visible fangs, dressed in something that looked like it came from a Nick Knight flashback. Actually, the costume *was* from a video depiction of a Nick Knight flashback, since I had designed it that way two years ago. *How* the vampbear made it up to Toronto (ahead of me, no less!) was only the second of my questions -- *why* he was there was the first. Sensing my annoyance at the presence of two kilograms of fake-fur and polyester stuffing, Pen broke the ice for us: "He was packed in with the box of clothes that came up for you from New York... something about, umm, Forever Knight and teddy bears and he needed to be here during the War and..." she rubbed absently at her forehead and blinked hard, trying to remember something. >From the looks of this, getting information wasn't going to be easy -- and I had a sneaking suspicion why. I roughly pulled the vampbear off the desk and looked him straight in the eye. "You didn't try to *whammy* her, did you?" The bear looked back innocently, but silently. "Or *feed* on her?" I asked, not believing his innocence in the matter for a nanosecond. A pinkish tinge on the tip of his fang could have been anything from lint to someone accidentally scratching against the erstwhile artificial fingernail. Knowing the vampbear's penchant for attacking anyone and anything he thought he could feed from, I tucked him under my arm, fangs safely away from anyone, and looked carefully at Pen's neck for tell-tale scratch marks. They were, thankfully, absent. During this examination, Pen had switched from massaging her forehead to massaging her left wrist. "You've got some dangerous *toys*," she said, eyeing me as if I'd grown another head in the interrim. I looked at the wrist she was massaging. At first, it looked like she had managed to sprain it -- but when I turned it over, I saw the telltale welts of someone trying to fend off a pair of fangs with the palm of her hand. Still holding onto the vampbear, I dropped Pen's hand and searched for the bottle of isopropynol in the desk drawer. Onehandedly opening it, I poured the solution liberally over the angry red peaks as Pen tried to refrain from reacting to its sting. Once the wounds were disinfected, I wetted several tissues with the rubbing alcohol and took them to the vampbear's fangs. "I thought we had an agreement," I told the vampbear. "You do *NOT* attack people and animals, and you continue to exist. Otherwise, you will be reduced back to fabric and fiberfill. Got it?" "I was hungry," he whined, raising his empty bottles of "special stock". "Did you ever think of *asking* first? You know, we *do* keep some of that stuff around here..." "I was *hungry*," he repeated, as if it were all *my* fault in the first place. In point of fact, it *was* really all my fault in the first place -- after all, *I* made him -- but I wasn't going to klew the vampbear in to that fact. "So what's new about that?" I mumbled. "You're *always* hungry. And I'm not the *only* one who will reduce you to fluff and fur if you get out of hand. Got it?" The vampbear shrugged imperceptibly. Unfortunately, that was the most acknowledgement I'd ever get out of him, and as likely to mean "Yeah, yeah, yeah... and I'll do as I please, anyway 'cos you can't stop me" as anything else. I put him down roughly, with a stern stare, and turned back to Pen. "Think you can remember, now?" I asked her. The younger woman collapsed into a chair. "It's been a *long* day," she started... ******************end Home Away From Home********************* (1)"Mah nishtanah ha-lailah ha-zeh, me-kol ha-lay-lot?" "Why is this night different from all other nights of the year?" This is the first line of the "Four Questions" asked by the youngest child at a Passover seder. In the context of the seder, it enumerates the traditions that separate the seder, and the Passover holiday, from the rest of the year. In the context of my War 10 experience, things have been going so different from their normal course that it's as drastic a change to me as Passover is to a child. Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Sun Aug 15 00:43:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fs4R-0003Sy-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 00:38:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1949; Sun, 15 Aug 99 00:36:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1292; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 00:36:54 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 21:38:41 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War: Vaqs--Insomni*Vaq* Theatre To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f919533b71ab9cc5ebca3ddca51ea59f 14-15 Aug 1999 Vaq HQ-The Church Toronto, ON Late Saturday/early Sunday Insomni*Vaq* Theatre By Vaquera Scribe #3, Felicia Javier Vachon was doing a round of the Church's nave where the Vaq troops were sacked out when he heard it. A quiet chuckle came from the far corner. He ambled over, trying to keep his footing while avoiding stepping on the sleeping bodies. "Who is that? Felicia," he called softly so as not to disturb the others. "Yes, it's me. You look like you're trying to walk a tightrope or something." Vachon knelt in front of her. "What's wrong? Can't you sleep?" She sighed. "I didn't coin the phrase insomni*vaq* for nothing," she said. "And you?" He shrugged. "Guess I just can't get used to this sleeping at night thing." Felicia nodded. "Understandable. Hmmm, maybe if you tell me a story, I'll be able to sleep." The once mortal, then vampire, now mortal again Spaniard just looked at her. "A story," he repeated. "Yeah. Hey, how about you tell me about the Spanish Armada. What were y'all thinkin' on tha. . ." "The Spanish. . . . Nice, Olivier. How long ya been waiting to use that one?" The historian's eyes went wide. "I--I just wondered because, well, ya know, the books say.. ." "Uh-huh. Look, I was a soldier, remember? Not a sailor. And besides, I was. . different by then." Felicia bit her bottom lip. "I know, Javier. 1531. . .1588, big gap. I'm sorry. I really didn't mean anything by it. I was just curious." Vachon sighed again. "No, wait. I'm sorry." He smiled weakly. "I don't know what's going on, I mean, I've been a vampire for almost 500 years, and everything was fine. Sure there was an adjustment period, but that passed quickly. Now, I've been mortal for less than a week, and suddenly I'm Mr. Sensitivity. I'm sorry, really. I didn't mean to bite your head off." "Nice wording, Javier. It's okay. Hey, new idea. *I'll* tell *you* a story." He looked dubious. "You're gonna tell me a. . ." "We're not playin' password, Javier! Besides, I'm a teacher, remember? I tell stories all day." He seemed to consider the last for a moment, but finally settled back. "Okay, what the heck? Shoot." Felicia smiled. "Great! Okay, well, have you ever heard of a plantation called 'The Myrtles'?" When he shook his head, she continued. "It's quite famous, actually. One of the most haunted places in the United States. Something like 13 violent deaths occured there." "Haunted?" "Yup. Anyway, one summer my friend and I decided to visit there. We really wanted to do the ghost walk tour, where they tell ya about the strange goings-on, but we had to leave before it started that night. We just walked around during the day, re-telling the stories we had previously heard." "Did you say 13 violent deaths?" Felicia frowned. "Are you listening? Yes, 13 deaths, all violent." "How violent?" "Let's see, one man was poisoned, another hung, a woman was. . ." Vachon held up one hand. "Okay, point taken. Violent enough." Felicia gave him a strange look, but continued. "Anyway, we were bummed out that we missed the grand ghostie tour, but we had to go. We drove back to Natchitoches and. . " "To where?" She sighed. "Natchitoches, the city in which I reside. Any other questions before I go on?" He shook his head. "Okay, we got back to my apartment, where another friend was waiting. She had just driven from Dallas, that's a big city in Texas by the way, and we were all tired. We decided to call it a night. I went to my room, one friend to a spare, and the other slept on the sofa." As she was spinning her tale, Felicia noticed that several of the Vaq Troops had awakened. They were watching the scene with obvious amusement. She picked up the story. "We were all sleeping, but at 3:00 a.m., we all awoke, startled. Before you ask, I know this because we discussed it later. Anyway, when I woke up, I could feel that the room was very cold. I could feel *something* in the room. It bothered me, so I got out of bed and went for the door. I heard a creaking sound coming from behind me, and decided that my bedroom was the last place I needed to be, survival mechanism, to be sure." At Vachon's nod, she continued. "Well, I opened the door to find my other friends had apparently had the same thoughts. We all stood in the hallway with frightened expressions on our faces. No one spoke, I guess we couldn't find any words at that point. All of a sudden, the hall lights went on! We jumped and screamed and I personally bolted for the front door. Ohhh, believe me when I say it completely freaked us out. I was waiting for evil laughter to come floating down from somewhere! It was crazy. Anyway, after I came back in, and we calmed down a bit, we checked the circuits. Nothing was out of the ordinary. We talked about it, and finally decided that one of the ghosties from that plantation had tagged along home with us." Felicia saw Vachon's eyes open so wide she thought that they's pop out. She also saw Teresita, her Vaq Twin, creeping towards the halogen light that one of the Vaqs had brought along in order to do work at night. Felicia and Teresita's brains quickly reached the same frequency, and Felicia gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Wow," Vachon exclaimed. "That *is* creepy! I think I would have lost i. . . .AAAAACCCKKKK," he screamed when Teresita flipped the light on. Felicia hit the floor rolling, laughing so hard tears formed in her eyes. "Whew! I *never* thought I'd see the day. . ." "That's *not* funny," Vachon stated indignantly. He looked around the room and rolled his eyes. It may not have been funny to him, but the rest of the Vaq Troopers disagreed. "Oh, I beg to differ," Teresita said though tears of her own. "That was priceless." Vachon sighed. With followers like this? "I am never gonna get to sleep now. What are we going to do?" "We could watch a movie," Tracy Sue suggested. "Felicia, did you bring any?" "Of course, I have 'Halloween' and 'The Omen' and. . " Emma snorted. "Don't tell me you brought 'Bride of Chucky'", she said. Felicia frowned. "I didn't." Vachon looked up. "Oh, have you guys seen that one? I've been told that there's some guy in it who looks like me." Felicia and Teresita looked at each other and shrugged. "Hey, VaqAdj, did you bring 'Friday the 13th? Because one of the actors in it is. . ." "We know, Kevin Bacon," the Vaqs chorused simultaneously. Echo blushed. "Um, yeah." "I've got that one two. Looks like this could be an all-nighter." _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sun Aug 15 07:31:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fsgg-0004hC-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 01:18:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3738; Sun, 15 Aug 99 01:16:25 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3171; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 01:16:25 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 04:51:08 +0200 Reply-To: kadira@GMX.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kadira Kerkhoff Subject: WAR: Enforcers: Party-Time 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fb26c2d2ac4cc26d14b7beb636dc5381 Party - Time 1/1: Time: Immediately after "Hoist By Their Own Petard" Kadira Kerkhoff (kadira@gmx.net) and Kim Kocak" (kimkocak@prodigy.net) All Characters are used with permission, The hymn was written by Captain Raven. "Do we have everything ready?", Kadira asked anxiously. "But of course", Kim grinned, "We don't want nothing to go wrong, OK?" "Then let's go, it's party time.", and with this the Enforcers made their way to the Raven, where the Ravenette's party should start. "There are the Knighties, and there the Dark Perks, and look there in the corner the Cousins ... it seems that all factions are here already", Enid explained smiling. "Then let's the party start, let us show them, that we are here.", Steve grinned, as he pressed a little button on an inconspicuous remote control, " I hope you are all ready for the run of your life ..." ------ And only a few moments later, the Raven was filled with light, noise and surprise cries, as the Enforcers made their way to the stage to start their performance, which let the whole audience including the Ravenettes paralyzed in silence. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the keeping of the code We have trampled down the mortals and have stole from their abode We have staked the traitor's bodies and have lightened our work load The truth it can't be told Gore and blood our Resolution! We will nix their constitutions! They'll be pushing up petutia-ns! When they mess with our Code! Mine eyes have seen the danger of the breaking of the code Mortals crowding into villages and dying in the cold Should we execute them dead or should we let their tale be told We've no time to back down I have seen the guiltless pleasure of the keeping of our word We have sought for the foolish and their like we have conquered Surely in our future we will be sought and then treasured We've no time to back down Mine eyes have seen the glory of the pucing of janette We will dangle polyester and destyle the Ravenettes Their taste will be their downfall and will be best our asset Watch out for yourself! I have seen the Ravens cringe when the fods come in the room They run as if it's halloween and they're in a costume Their style and their taste in dress can only be their doom Watch out for yourself! : Mine eyes have seen the power of LaCroix all dressed in black We have seen the cousins snicker when their master turns his back We have seen them be quite cruel when they decide to attack The cousins will go down I have seen the battle break when the cousins join the fight I have seen them play their tricks on our favorite angsting knight Should the war turn on them, they'll not hesitate to bite The cousins will go down Mine eyes have seen the courage of the knighties on the list They have fought with gallantry and at the cousins they've been pissed But when we join the fight, the knighties won't persist The knighties will go down I have seen the knighties angsting with Nick up in the loft The cousins they have irked them and at them they have scoffed But enforcers know it's because they're just becoming soft The knighties will go down Mine eyes have seen the future of the cousins of the knight Their confused affiliations will just help us in the fight We'll rile all the leaders and wind the list up tight *Splat* cousins of the knight I have seen their valiant struggle as they fight upon the land To regain some sense of normalcy, the family t'would be grand Alas, it is not to be, for them we have some plans *splat* cousins of the knight Mine eyes have seen the quarry of the perks all dressed in pink We have seen the DP's hunt for cappacino to drink They have taken over Starbucks (tm) and raised a general stink The Perks will have to pay! I have seen the perkulators as they jones for their caffeine They'll find it really hard to fight without their java beans Quick, who's got the label, change it from the decaf green The Perks will have to pay! Mine eyes have seen the factions as they concede their defeat I have seen them beg for mercy as they begin their retreat We'll whip them down, we'll rinse them out and then we'll just repeat All factions will go down! I have seen them on the battlefield just begging for release Their heads we'll stuff to decorate our handmade mantlepiece We won't give up the battle now, our trouble will not cease All factions will go down! Kim looked at Kadira with an evil grin."That what happens when you play "I Will Survive" >from the In & Out video". -End- -- Sent through Global Message Exchange - http://www.gmx.net From - Sun Aug 15 07:31:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fsi4-0004ix-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 01:19:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2108; Sun, 15 Aug 99 01:16:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3196; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 01:16:59 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 01:18:40 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: War: Cousins LCL: Rooms for Rent? (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 53a0974c1f32fa59cd4d4aec78938f0a Title: Rooms for Rent? (1/1) Author: Shelley , with permission from all mentioned Date: Friday, August 13th Time: Late Evening After "After the Tour (1/1)" Pulling into the CERK parking lot, Arletta, Shelley, and Brandi all got out of the van. Arletta had one cat under each arm, Shelley was holding the leash to Brandi's rather excited golden retriever, = and Brandi had hold of a cat carrier that was chirping away with her two ferrets inside. Walking in the main door, they approached the reception desk. = Sitting there they saw a woman with short dark hair and green eyes, wearing black jeans and a T-shirt. "Uh, hello..." Arletta began, then looked at Brandi. Brandi = simply waved to the woman and said "Hi!" in a cheery tone. Arletta tried again, "Ummm, do you think we could have 4 rooms on a floor with animals allowed?" Cordelia meowed her approval of the request. Isabella, the Cousinly Receptionist on duty, looked at the 3 women = and 5 pets before her. Two of the women were dirty and dusty, the cats were letting out loud MEEEOOOOWs in an attempt to talk to = *whatever* was jumping and chirping in the cat carrier, and the dog = was jumping around and letting out a few excited barks every couple = of seconds. Isabella decided to play it safe. There *was* a war on, after all. "Names, please?" she asked in her most efficient tone. She got her fingers ready to type the names into the computer and check to see if these three really *were* Cousins. As the three gave their names plus Annette's name, they glanced at = each other wondering if the computer would okay them. Arletta = crossed her fingers behind her back, and Shelley said her usual = prayer to whatever deity controlled computers. = "Okay, and you are, uh, Cousins?" Isabella asked with suspicion dripping from her voice. Three of the names had not come up on her = screen, only Shelley's had. = "Well, yes...er, no" Arletta began, trying to explain it. "We are *light* Cousins". "LIGHT Cousins?" Isabella half laughed, "Like LIGHT Beer??" "Um, nooooooo...." Arletta said, trying to think of a way to make it sound good enough to get them a room or two. The cat named Edgar in her arms choose this moment to let out a loud MEEEEOOOOOW to show his displeasure at not being allowed down to explore. Upon hearing this, Cordelia also chimed in and began to squirm to be free. Her hands literally full, Arletta forgot momentarily about getting rooms. Brandi decided she could explain it all to the Cousinly Receptionist, and began in earnest. "You see, we think LaCroix has this really nice side, and that if he would just give into it, things would be SO much better, don't you think? Well, you know LaCroix, always trying to have this image thing, but he really is nice, you know and I think that...." "Brandi!" Arletta nearly shouted to be heard over the chatter. = Looking from Arletta to Isabella's face, Brandi decided maybe she ought to *not* help anymore. "Excuse me," Shelley interjected, tugging on the dog leash, "but maybe you could call either Cousin Tser or Cousin Tok?" Isabella looked doubtful. By this time, she was *positive* this was a Merc attack. Calling Tser or Tok just *had* to be a ruse, didn't it? As she weighed her options, she kept a close eye on all 8 of them, humans and critters alike. The two cats were = struggling to be put down, and the dog looked like he needed = a walk...*outside*. Finally, she decided to call on Cousin Tser and test their bluff. = If it WAS an attack, Tser would need to know. And if it WASN'T an = attack, then she would need one of the Cousinly leaders to approve = of the handing out of rooms to people not on the computer list of authorized Cousins. Seeing no other options, she picked up the = phone and began to dial. "Yes, okay" Isabella said into the phone, then hung up. "Cousin Tser is on her way down". = Shelley breathed a sigh of relief. She had worked with Tser in war 8, and therefore knew her. They would hopefully get rooms soon; she was tired and did NOT want to go back to the monastery where they had left Annette stuck with a tour group. Just as the elevator door opened with Tser inside, Arletta lost the = battle with the cats. Edgar went running ever deeper into CERK with = Cordelia on his heels. = Arletta said "Ack", a little belatedly. = Isabella yelled "Cousin Tser, it's a MERC ATTACK!!" at the top of = her voice. = Shelley groaned audibly and put a hand to her head, trying to stop the headache she was developing from getting any worse. "We're NOT Mercs!" she said, but it was hard to be heard over the clanking of alarm systems that Isabella had set off. Tser walked calmly over and punched a few buttons to stop the alarms. "There, that's better" she said. Turning to Isabella, she said "It's okay, I know them, they aren't here to attack us. Hi Shelley!" "Hi, Tser" Shelley replied with a sigh of relief. "We could really use some rooms to stay in, our new, uh, headquarters is a bit bare". "Sure, can you share two rooms, since there are only three of you?" = Tser asked. "Oh yes, definitely!" Arletta replied, also visibly relieved. Then, remembering Annette, she said "well, actually there are four of us, but Brandi and Annette can share one room, right Brandi?" "Right!" Brandi replied. "Great, I'll put you next to me, animals are expected to show up around there!" she said, laughing. "Isabella, assign them 2 rooms on the fourth floor, please, and make arrangements to add the = fourth person out to the computer so there are no problems later on". Isabella was still looking at them suspiciously, but gave them the rooms anyway. Arletta gave her Annette's name and description for the computer files. "Okay, I need to go, but I'll see you around CERK" Tser said, turning back towards the elevator. Arletta pulled out her cell phone to call the monastery and let = Annette know the arrangements as the three women gratefully = headed for the fourth floor. From - Sun Aug 15 07:31:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FtWp-0002zX-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 02:12:23 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2250; Sun, 15 Aug 99 02:05:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5141; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 02:05:00 -0400 Date: Sat, 14 Aug 1999 23:06:15 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: Tail End Arrivals (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b3c7302faf69208746c9758a9e725234 WAR: UF: Tail End Arrivals (1/1) By: Fenris and Les GS Setting: The Hive, UF Headquarters Time: Saturday August 14th, around 10pm EST. After: NA/UF: I Bring You A Message Of Peace (1/3) Saturday evening... unusually quiet. Perhaps it was the calm before the storm. Or perhaps it was simple consideration on the part of the UFfers who had *not* attended the Ravenettes' party toward those who had. You *know* it was a good party when you can't remember any of it. Less Dionysiac UFfers had been rather productive that Saturday. Lora had scouted out the perfect spot for the bee hive, next to an honorably aged grape arbor. Once Jules had recovered from the party, she'd enlist her aid in constructing the apiary. She probably didn't want to make any loud noises at this time and power tools don't have a "mute" setting. Amie had also rambled about the grounds, finding a perfect spot for her Elizabethan knot garden. It was perhaps a bit too close to the stables, which, though impeccably maintained, nevertheless had a somewhat disreputable look to them. She didn't wish to disorder anything on the rest of the beautifully kept grounds, so she settled on that spot, brushing aside her vague misgivings. She'd noticed quite a few herbs, scattered throughout the gardens to provide lovely smells as well as sights. She harvested some, bringing them back to the Hive, thinking to use them in any cooking she might do. She wondered how her fellow UFfers would feel about trying some of her favorite medieval and Renaissance recipes. She paused a moment, absent-mindedly smelling a rose, the first stirrings of a whimsical notion stirring in her mind. Other UFfers settled into the Hive, figuring out where everything was. Some first timers to Toronto decided to take an impromptu driving tour, checking out some of the sights they'd seen only of TV before. Others went shopping and one wise UFfer contacted the bulk honey supplier they'd used in May 1998. They knew there was a War on, of course, rumors having been brought back from the party at the Raven. But, so far, nothing had happened to make this real to them and they floated in a sort of sweet, summery, illusory idyll. Though this may just have been the results of a "second-hand high" effect seeping through them from Les and Julia. A visit from the Blessed Bons of Nunkies Anonymous had left them *very* unusually relaxed. Even reasonable. It was a little weird, but peace always has a price. Their fellow UFfers would deal with the weirdness. By dinner time, even the most rabid partiers were hungry and though most of them didn't recognize what Amie had prepared for them, and many of them couldn't even pronounce it, it was greatly admired. The peaceful day became a peaceful evening. Some UFfers ventured into the library to set up a special reading corner. There was some talk about naming it the Blue Room. Another small group, still collecting itself after the night at the Raven before, had gathered in the parlor off the bar at the entrance of the Hive. Most had beverages of a medicinal variety in their hands. Jules had a cold beer bottle pressed to one temple. "Hey, Jules," `Chele asked, "did you ever figure out why only one wall of your room had been painted pink?" "Blush, actually," Jules murmured, switching her bottle to the other temple. "I think that shade is actually called blush. That's what Lauren said, anyway. No, I can't figure it out. But I *did* find a page of a Nick & Lacroix story I'd misplaced last year. It had slipped off the night-stand and stuck to that wall behind it." >From outside the house, faint but unmistakable, they heard the sound of a small but powerful car engine revving up a few times then stopping, and after that came the faint slam of car doors. "Sounds like our stragglers made it," Les remarked, lifting one ear piece of her Discman's headset. Her hair bristled rather aggressively on either side of the black plastic strip running across the top of her head. Her companions couldn't figure out if it was residual alarm from Lauren mentioning eels as an entree at dinner that night or if she hadn't gotten all the honey out of it after cleaning up the broadcast booth at the Raven yesterday. April got up to get the door, passing from the parlor into the foyer. Upon opening it, a small wolfish-looking black canine rocketed in. "Hey, Laurey's here", April called to the UFfers in the next room as she reached down to give the little dog a quick pat as it ran past her and into the parlor. He darted around the room, sniffing at all the new pairs of legs that had just entered its foot-high world. Shan raised an eyebrow, watching the hyperactive creature as it ran laps around the Turkish carpet. "Really? I thought she'd be taller." Assorted groans were accompanied by a few well-aimed throw pillows. Shan ducked, laughing and trying to protect her drink from disaster. A woman with short blonde hair followed him in, just barely carrying a couple of suitcases, a can of Diet Pepsi and a package of barbecue-flavor pork rinds. 'Chele darted forward to rescue the woman as she continued juggling the items successfully but with increasing desperation. "Can I HELP you with those, ah... Laurey?" The blonde peered sideways at 'Chele from where she was holding the bag of pork rinds between her chin and left shoulder and gritted out, "No, it's SHELLEY... and yes, I'd LOVE it if you'd take one of these... oh, geez!" The bag of pork rinds dropped toward the floor, not quite making it there before a small black blur whizzed by, snatching it out of the air. Hanging onto his booty with a death grip and growling a warning to any potential pork-rind thieves, the little dog scrambled under the china cabinet and disappeared from view. Cellophane ripping sounds and crunching soon ensued. "He's had his eye on those pork rinds since Albany, Shel", said a second woman as she walked into the parlor, also laden with bags. "It was inevitable." The woman then dropped her bags and ran her hands through her windblown mess of silver hair, trying unsuccessfully to smooth it out. A large, handsome Golden Retriever bounded through the door and into the room, plumy tail waving. Grinning, he trotted happily around the circle of women, some familiar to him, some new. Most reached out to pat him briefly, some more hesitantly than others as they noticed the reddish phosphorescence in his eyes. "Hey, Perry!" said Jules, rumpling the Golden's ears as she walked by. "Hey, Laurey--CATCH!" As she said the last, she lobbed a full can of cold beer in the white-haired UFfer's direction. Laurey caught it, popped it open and took a long swig. Afterward, she took a deep breath, let it out slowly and grinned beatifically. "Bless you, Sister Jules. Now all I need is horkin' big espresso in my other hand and I'm ready to face the Millennium." Shelley collapsed onto the couch and held her hand up in mute appeal. Jules laughed and tossed her a cold brew as well. Introductions ensued, Shelley and Laurey greeting the UFfers they already knew and meeting the new UF warriors. The little dog was dragged, protesting, away from his pork-rind feast under the china cabinet and introduced as Tybalt. Jules grinned at Shelley and sat down at the other end of the couch. "So how was the trip?" Shelley laughed. "It got dark... and we got pulled over FIVE TIMES for speeding." Attention gotten, Les looked up from her shot glass of Glen Grant, raised an eyebrow at Laurey and asked, "Okay, I'll bite--why were you waiting until after it got dark to speed?" "Because a couple of months ago I figured out that Perry could hypnotize cops." Laurey grinned and started talking in a deep, mock male voice. "Ma'am, do you have any idea how fast you were--- oh, hi, fella!! Hey, a Golden Retriever!" She mimicked a glassy- eyed vacant stare into a pair of vampiric canine eyes, "What a great dog... I always wanted one of these... Well, ladies, have a nice evening! Drive careful, now!" Julia muttered something about borrowing Perry to take care of the next troupe of Russian ballet dancers that hit the Met. Then she lifted her voice to say, "We saved you your rooms from last year, Laurey, the ones with the northern exposure and the heavy drapes. You too, Shelley. And... I think that's the last of our expected arrivals." She smiled, uncharacteristically content. "It's nice to have us all together like this without anything bizarre going on. I really *need* the vacation." She sighed happily, wriggling feet comfortably propped on an ottoman, and snuggled her Valium salt lick. The handcuffs, both bracelets now fastened around her right wrist, chimed gently. From - Sun Aug 15 07:31:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FuSM-0004PA-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 03:11:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4146; Sun, 15 Aug 99 03:09:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8597; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 03:09:46 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 00:11:51 -0700 Reply-To: "Nancy A. Taylor" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knighties: Revisiting Mr. Faraday To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cf16ed75dc5b3fe9825b598a0366fac6 Knighties: Revisiting Mr. Faraday by Knightie Nancy Taylor Place: the Loft Time: Saturday, Aug. 14, 1999, mid-morning Nick and Eowyn used with permission "Where could it be?" Frustrated by the search, Nancy turned to Eowyn with a disgusted look on her face. "We had tons of the stuff for War 9. I was certain we stored it down here!" Eowyn continued to dig through the dusty contents of the loft's basement storage area. "It has to be here! Surely Nick would know how important it is for the war effort." "What's important?" The melodic voice caused both Knighties to look up, startled by the intrusion. "Hi, Nick!" Eowyn smiled up from her position on hands and knees. "We're looking for all that chicken wire we bought last year to build the Faraday shield in the loft," answered Nancy, the Knighties' second-in-command. "It's imperative that we shield ourselves from radio interference or surveillance. It's got to be here somewhere...." "Not necessarily." Nick had that mischievous quirky smile that meant he knew something the klewless Knighties didn't. "Spit it out, Nick." She may not have had the time available to be leader of the Knighties during this war, but Eowyn had not lost her attitude toward the cocky vampire. she reminded herself. "Let me show you," he said, turning back toward the stairs. The Knighties stood and dusted themselves off, following as quickly as they could. It was hard keeping up with Nick, whose long legs took the stairs two at a time. Being short was a definite disadvantage. "While I appreciated all the effort you put into shielding the loft last year, it just didn't do anything for the decor." He smiled at the puffing women as they ran up the stairs behind him to enter the main floor of the loft. "While I may be 'minimalist' in my decorating, I *am*...." "A neat-freak?" Nancy supplied. The ex-vampire smiled at her. "Yeah, you might say that." Walking over to the heavy steel blinds, he pushed the remote button to open them and let the morning sun shine brightly into the loft. As he stood in the warm glow, momentarily distracted by the view outside the windows, the Knightie pair noted how handsome he was with the golden light suffusing his blond waves, ringing his head like a halo. Nudging each other and giggling over secret fantasies not proper for a PG-13 list, they reminded each other to pay attention. "Come over here," Nick requested, turning to motion them toward the windows. Once they had gotten closer, Nancy noticed the fine wire mesh that covered the windows, yet did nothing to obstruct the view. "This screening is installed beneath the ceiling and floor as well." He told them. "And," he added, pushing a button on another small remote he held, "I have drop-down screens for the brick walls." "Kewl!" Eowyn piped up. "A built-in Faraday shield!" "Great!" Nancy agreed, "this is a perfect setup! Good thinking, Nick!" "I'm glad you approve," he responded dryly. "At least we don't have to worry about being spied upon while we're in this room. Does it cover the upper level as well?" "Even the skylights," he told them with a smile. Now if we only knew what to expect during this war," the Knightie 2IC sighed. Nancy A. Taylor War 10 -- Knightie 2IC and Backup Leader From - Sun Aug 15 07:31:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FvMK-0005ci-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 04:09:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0331; Sun, 15 Aug 99 04:07:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0288; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 04:07:34 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 02:45:30 -0500 Reply-To: Lisa Luksus Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: RFC822 error: MESSAGE-ID field duplicated. Last occurrence was retained. From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: CUZ: Meeting of Cousinly minds To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e4916d8882ab2cda9ced71de367833a4 Meeting of Cousinly minds by Cousin Tok Time: Saturday, August 14th, around 9PM Place: CERK The meeting was set up as soon as Tser and Tok had finished looking up the URL given in the mysterious note. It was time for the usual Cousinly briefing anyway. Tok wondered briefly if she should have laid in a supply of smelling salts. Nah -- the Cousins were a tough bunch. They'd handle it alright. She surveyed the room. There were some GSS folks she recognized on one side. The Light Cousin contingent was over there. Some familiar faces in the crowd, a lot she didn't know. As Cerberus gathered at the front of the room, the General slipped in the back. It took a moment for people to realize he was there -- the first hint that things were not normal. "Okay, gang, let's get started," Tok said into the microphone. "We're here to explain why War's been called. Sometime late Thursday or early Friday, a ritual was performed that transformed *all* the vampires in the immediate vicinity of Toronto into mortals." All sound in the room ceased, and the Cousins turned as one to look at Lacroix. "Including, I'm afraid, our own General." Tok waited a moment for the murmurs to die down. "Earlier today, this was delivered to CERK." She held up the pendant, the chain draped around her own neck. "With it was a note referring us to a certain web site. According to this site, this is part of a device called Galen's cube. A vampire can use this device to cure himself, but the cure also affects all other vampires within a certain radius. It wasn't real specific on that point. This ritual has to be performed at midnight on the night of a full moon that has another full moon within two weeks." Tok paused, pulling off her glasses and massaging the bridge of her nose. This headache was going to be a beaut. "The device is split into pieces, of which this pendant is one. The spell can be reversed at the next full moon by reassembling the device precisely at midnight. The site was rather short on specifics, unfortunately. And the source was suspect, to say the least. What we need from you now is to research this any way you can. Search the web, go to a library, whatever occurs to you. We need better information. The URL we were given is posted in the War room as a starting point." Tok glanced back at Tser, who'd spent the better part of the afternoon helping her on the net. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who performed the ritual. Or to figure out that he won't exactly to be eager to have it reversed. But I got the impression that something really nasty will happen if it's not. Any questions? No, good," she said, hurrying on before anyone could think of one. "General, is there anything you wish to add?" All eyes turned toward Lacroix again. "Only that I have confidence in you, my troops, and that any reasonable expenses will be covered. This intolerable situation will not be allowed to continue. Is that clear?" Lacroix turned as Cousins clustered around him, but not before Tok thought she saw a worried expression on his face. The heads of Cerberus came out of the meeting, finally. "I need a drink," Tok said, trying to remember the ingredients to a Zombie Beachcomber. "Wouldn't you rather have a nice cup of tea?" Tser asked. "Tea is soothing, and I want to be tense," Tok replied. "It's not going to be easy to find the fun in this one." "We'll manage," Tser replied. "We always do." Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Sun Aug 15 07:31:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FvNZ-0001t5-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 04:10:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2593; Sun, 15 Aug 99 04:07:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0269; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 04:07:32 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 01:32:23 -0500 Reply-To: Lisa Luksus Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: RFC822 error: MESSAGE-ID field duplicated. Last occurrence was retained. From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: CUZ: Elementary, my dear To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d401a6dc0b895a56d707525ff08e0396 Elementary, my dear by Cousin Tok with permission from all mentioned Time: Saturday, August 14th, around 3 PM Place: CERK Tok returned from a late lunch, around 3PM, humming a few bars from "I Could Have Danced All Night". As she walked into the CERK lobby, the reception desk appeared abandoned. Muffled sounds from underneath proved that was not the case. An envelope lay on the desk, addressed simply 'Cerberus'. Next to it was a small box, opened. A layer of cotton was in the bottom, like you'd see with jewelry, only without the jewelry. Tok leaned over the desk to see a black jean-clad backside. "Isabella!" The Cousinly receptionist started; Tok heard top-of-head make contact with bottom-of-desk, and she made note of the new vocabulary -- what was that, Chinese? "Tok, oh, um ... hi." Isabella used the edge of the desk to pull herself to her feet. "Lose something?" Tok nudged the empty box. "I just opened it to see what it was. I thought if it were a trap of some kind ..." She trailed off, uncertain how to finish. Tok fingered the wrapping paper from the box, which was also labeled 'Cerberus'. "So what was it, and where is it?" "It was some kind of pendant, silver and gold with some kind of design on it. And I don't *know* where it is. I turned my back a moment to answer the phone, and when I turned back, it was gone! I swear, nobody else came in." Isabella looked scared. "Then it has to be here somewhere. Who delivered it, a Merc?" "I don't think so. There was a guy and a girl, both with long black hair and these real dark sunglasses. They looked like MIBs." "Great, wonderful," Tok muttered as she looked through the wrappings. What was this -- a feather? It looked suspiciously like a feather from Tser's parrot Jabber. Jabber had been know to take a fancy to pretty shiny things before. "I have an idea where it might be, Isabella. In the future, though, just deliver the packages -- don't open them." Tok headed for the elevator with the box and the note. She finally found Tser in the War room with Jabber, marvelling at the pendant. She turned as Tok entered. "So, what's Jabber been up to now?" "That," Tok said, "was delivered downstairs for us. For Cerberus, I mean." She filled Tser in on what Isabella had told her. Together, they examined the pendant, but they couldn't make heads nor tails of the symbols. "Too bad Bob's busy. Maybe the GSS could make something of it," Tok said. "What does the note say?" asked Tser. "Oh yeah, the note." Tok pulled it out and read it. "It just says to check out this URL and we'll learn something interesting." "Do you think it has something to do with all the vampires turning mortal?" Tok shrugged. "There's no such thing as coincidence in War," she said as she turned on the nearest computer. Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Sun Aug 15 07:31:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Fxmy-00018Q-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 06:45:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0733; Sun, 15 Aug 99 06:43:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5033; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 06:43:13 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 03:45:03 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: War: NA: "You and Me and the Powder Make 3 Tonight" (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 13bc2565468f7bb41adc36da012341bd NA: "You and Me and the Powder Make 3 Tonight" (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: A little after 1:00 am Sunday, August 15. Place: The Shrine Cousin Tiff couldn't sleep. She wasn't used to the beds in the Shrine yet. She couldn't sleep in a bed she wasn't used to. Tiff checked her Indiglo 1:00 am. Tiff began to feel the floor with her hands for her bag. There would surely be something for her to occupy her time in her bag. That's why she took it everywhere. It always had something to do or fidget with in it. But not this time. The tapestry took up all the room in her bag. Tiff couldn't take the boredom. Time check: 1:02am. With that, Tiff decided to get up. She moved towards the kitchen/lab. Maybe there'd be some food in the fridge. When bored, nothing works better to kill time then eating. Tiff entered the kitchen/lab and stuck her bag on the counter, and opened it up to pull out her notebook. "Che cosa state facendo cosl in ritardo in su?" a woman's voice said. Tiff jumped and turned, surprised that she wasn't alone. Seeing that is was one of the currently mortal immortals, she calmed down. "Argh! Oh, it's just one of you construction people..." The dark-haired woman looked at her with some contempt. Tiff felt a little bad referring to this woman as "one of you construction people." Probably because if she had met this woman a week ago, she would've ripped Tiff's throat out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it came out..." The woman's expression softened a little. "I can't sleep," Tiff continued, answering her question earlier. The woman's expression lightened even more when she realized that this young girl understood her language. This girl was the first of all LaCroix's pets to understand her without a second thought. Maybe this girl had some potential... Cousin Tiff noticed the expression change in her conversation companion, and knew it was probably due to the fact she answered the question. "Forgive me if I don't speak in Italian," the teenager said politely, pulling a notebook out of her bag, and sitting on a chair at a table. "I can read it, I can write it, I can understand some of it, but I'm no good at speaking it." "That is all right. Everyone around here seems to prefer English, so that is the tongue we shall speak here tonight." "Okay, then. Hi, I'm Evil Cousin Tiff. But Tiff will do fine." "My name is Validetta." Tiff got up and moved to the sink to fill a glass she got with water. "Would you like some ?" She asked the ex-vamp. "Excuse me?" "I know you were probably a vampire for a very long time, but don't tell me you don't remember what is." Validetta looked at the evil cousin, still unsure exactly what *wooder* was. "... The clear and tasteless fluid that flows in rivers, oceans, and ponds. And supports all life on the planet..." Tiff continued, as she turned the faucet on and allowed water to be filled. "Oh, you mean, water!" Validetta stated, as if making a revelation. "Yes, !" Tiff suddenly realizing her thick mid-Atlantic accent had gone into play there. "Um, yes please," Validetta finished. Tiff turned to fill another glass with water. "My do you carry this everywhere with you?" Validetta asked. Tiff assumed she meant her bag. "Yes, I take it everywhere, why do you ask?" "One of the men told me you guys were really committed to LaCroix, but mia qualit`, I had no idea." Tiff turned around to see the woman unfolding the tapestry that had been stored in her bag. "Oh, no! You thought that... You mean the tapestry? Oh, no. I don't carry that everywhere I go," she tried to explain, taking it and folding it back up. "I stole it from the Raven last night, and I'm going to give it back to the faction at Heather's bridal shower..." Validetta just gave this young lady a "uh-huh, sure, right, of course" look as she watched her carefully fold up the large tapestry. "Uh-huh, sure, right. Giving it back at the bridal shower... Of course." Tiff couldn't help but smile. "How come you're in here and not out working on the Mosaic? You were working on the Mosaic, right?" "Yes, I was working on the Mosaic for the pool... but you'd be surprised how much your toleration for rudeness goes away when you are become mortal again. And I thought those men had a strong libido when they were vampires..." They both let out a burst of light laughter. *CLANG!* *Motherf@$%$#&! G*dd%@$it!* Both turned there heads to the source of the foul language. "That had to hurt," Tiff stated. "Some of us aren't adjusting to mortality too well, they keep forgetting that they aren't as strong as they were." "No, that's not a lack of adjusting, that's a man's ego." Validetta burst out in laughter very very loud. As she regained control of herself. Tiff pulled out her notebook and looked at some plans she had drawn up as doodles. With a wicked grin, she looked up at the ex-vamp. "You said you're sick of the guys libidos right?" "Yeah, why?" "Let's say we make them pay?" Tiff concluded pulling out a small glass jar full of her infamous fine white powder. -------------------------------------------- To be continued in "Too Much of a FUN Thing" *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Sun Aug 15 12:07:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11FzXr-0001Yh-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 08:37:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3185; Sun, 15 Aug 99 08:35:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7626; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 08:35:44 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 05:07:35 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: Cuz: Someone Left the Fence Off in the Rain (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8bcd1a4cde8690afd64d14c4d3415b2a Title: "Someone Left the Fence Off in the Rain" Time: After the Cousinly Briefing, "A Meeting of Cousinly Minds", the night of the 14th Place: CERK By Cousin Tser * * * * * * Tser took her leave of Cousin Tok, who seemed to badly need some rest, and headed for the Cousinly Stables. The Cousinly Critters had been causing plenty of trouble already and it was still early in the War... she intended to check up on them and make sure they weren't plotting to take over the world or, at the very least, torment some unsuspecting victim. She found Smokey her appaloosa horse eating (of course), and patted him on his soft nose. Lavalianna was asleep in the stall. That tea she had suggested to Tok was beginning to sound awfully nice to Tserisa, so she decided that she'd make some when she got up to her room. She had brought an electric teapot and all the fixings for some great Assam tea -- or maybe Darjeeling... yes, that sounded nice. Not exactly the type of stuff they stocked in the Cousinly Salon with wet bar, so she had made sure to bring some herself. She opened the door to her room and went inside, flipping on the light. After that incident with Shelley, she was a little wary to leave the door unlocked, but sometimes she was just to tired to fumble with any locking mechanism, so she left it unlocked for practical reasons. She didn't want to accidentally have the Cousinly Critters locked in. She plugged in the teakettle and opened up her laptop, looking at the site the note had indicated once again. Not exactly the most helpful. Poor web design too. And the page took forever to load. Whoever it was that had written it out needed a lesson in HTML. Of course, there was no e-mail address or response form, which would have helped with the plight of the mortalized vampires (and the poor webpage) a lot. She pointed her browser to another site, one on mythology and legend. There was nothing about the cube at all, and a search revealed nothing except a site on card games, which certainly didn't make any sense. Tomorrow she figured she'd visit the library. She settled back onto the bed. Glitch and Sprocket, the ducks, were sleeping in the corner, quacking quietly to themselves. Legs, the tarantula, was huddled protectively over her toy plastic tarantula on the nightstand. Morn the dove and Jabberwock were somewhere in CERK, she had seen them just before the meeting. All was peaceful and quiet. Waydaminit. Things weren't supposed to be quiet. She looked around nervously. "Moses!" The iguana was missing. Tser ran down the hall and hopped the elevator, pushing the button repeatedly to try to make the thing move faster. "Isabella!" she yelled at the Cousinly Receptionist who had fallen asleep at the desk. She awoke with a start, yelling, "But there are no goats, sir!" then looking around in confusion. Spotting the Cousinly Leader, she suddenly looked guilty, no doubt for falling asleep at the desk and also for having opened the "gift" that Cerberus had received earlier. "Did you see an iguana go through here?" Tser asked frantically. "About four feet long, female, looks like a velociraptor?" Cousin Isabella looked confused. "Uh, no...." Tserisa stared at the door. "She's loose somewhere, no doubt terrorizing the city," she said dramatically. "What?" "Nevermind. Could you get on the phone and call animal control? Let them know there's an iguana out there, and be sure to tell them she's not dangerous. I don't want her to get hurt. Oh, and call the local grocery stores... she might be raiding their produce departments." Tser's stomach sank at the thought of paying for that. Somewhere off in the night, far from CERK, a wailing scream filled the air. "Eeeek! A velociraptor!" ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Sun Aug 15 12:07:45 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G0D2-0002u3-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 09:20:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3301; Sun, 15 Aug 99 09:18:06 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9311; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 09:18:06 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 09:18:06 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War: Knighties: Coffee In The Morning To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2aecc776eb634b24e7fcd631e0fbf5b7 Coffee In The Morning By Knightie Katrinka Place: the loft Time: Sunday 8/15/99 Six AM Nick, and Katrinka used with permission It was a bright sunshiny morning in the loft. Katrinka whipped the sleep out of her eyes, and started to look around for coffee. She wasn't truly awake until she was fully caffeinated. The blinds on the windows where open. So that was where the light was coming from. Katrinka found the remote and closed the blinds. She could remember War Eight. There had been many Nicks that war. Her's had come from the future. He had told her that she would be crossed over during War Ten. Well, it was War Ten, and there where no vampires! What in the Goddess had happened to the present? Why had it become so messed up? She was actually glad that she wouldn't be crossed over. There was something that made all her Romany bells ring. //Cards, cards. Nick must have some cards here!// She started going through the drawers in the kitchen. Finally she found a pack of cards. She took them out. She took the wrapping off. The cards where old, very old. Katrinka slowly began to look at the cards. The cards had been hand-painted. With Romany script on them. The unmistakable drawing of LaCroix as "Morte," Janette as the "Queen of Cups," Nick as the "Fool." There was a caption, that when translated said, "A fool and a wise man have something in common. They know everything and nothing." Just then Nick came down the stairs. He was dressed in his black silk pajamas. His hair was ruffled. He walked past Katrinka as if she wasn't there, and looked into the refrigerator. He then opened the freezer, took somthing out, unwraped it. Took a bite, then spit it out. "Why is this food so hard?" "It's frozen. You have to warm it up before you can eat it. What's wrong?" She put up the cards. "I'm hungry, I'm starving," he confessed. "I can't believe I'm so hungry." "When did you eat last?" "Well, several years ago, I tried some French Fries." "Since then?" "I haven't." "So you've gone two days without eating. No wonder your hungry." She thought for a second. "Have a seat, and I'll fix you something." Nick sat down in a chair. Katrinka looked in the refrigerator. She instantly decided not to fix him anything exotic, though a good curry made a good breakfast in her mind. A traditional large breakfast was what he needed. Katrinka set about making breakfast. Sausage, toast, an omelet, coffee for him. Some hot curry for her. "This is taking forever," Nick moaned. "Perhaps I should just grab something." "No! Your first meal should be memorable," she said as she turned the sausage. "It does smell good," he admitted. Katrinka prepared a plate for Nick, a bowl for her. She set the plate down in front of Nick, the bowl across the table. She poured coffee and orange juice. Then she sat down. Nick picked up a fork, and speared a sausage. He took a tentative bite. As he chewed, he smiled. Katrinka began to eat her curry. The former vampire seemed to be making up for lost time. Devouring the sausage. Then he picked up the cup of coffee. He took a large gulp. He turned to the side and spit it out. "Why didn't you warn me it was hot?" "I'm sorry. I made sure it was blood warm. So it shouldn't be that hot," she apologized. "It feels hotter to me." "Perhaps it's part of the change." "Perhaps so." he took a bite of his omelet. He ate this more slowly. Then the toast. "I don't like this." "Well, everyone has different likes." Nick grabbed the bowl from Katrinka, ignoring her howls of protest. He began to eat with gusto. "What's this?" Nick asked between bites. "Curry." "It's good," He ate quickly, and asked for more. He devoured that, then a third bowl. "Can I have some more?" "Nick, if you eat anymore, you'll get a tummy ache! Your stomach isn't used to eating food," she told him. "So that means no." "Not for now. Later--perhaps." "All right," Nick gave a half smile. "What I've really been wanting is some cookies. Can you make some today?" "Love to." Nick got to his feet. He stretched. "I guess I better get dressed. Thanks for the food." "Anytime," Katrinka smiled. She couldn't help it, she liked this mortal Nick. From - Sun Aug 15 12:07:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G1Kl-0007CS-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 10:32:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5085; Sun, 15 Aug 99 10:30:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1838; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 10:30:20 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 10:31:51 -0400 Reply-To: James Marshall Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: James Marshall Subject: WAR: "A Letter Home" To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 18f3cee9ed4493c0abed924d99aa5ea0 A Letter Home, by James of the NatPack TIMELINE: AFTER the Raven Party. James scrunched into his own little corner of Nat's apartment, still too wound up from the party to go to sleep. He took out his pocket flashlight, paper and pen and began writing: 'Lo, Trident! (a friend of mine back home, that's his nickname) You'll never guess what happened. I went to Chicago for my job interviews. No problem. While I was there, however, I found out that being a member of the NatPack has its little responsibilities. When Nat calls, we go. Apparently, there is a War here in Toronto. Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention that part, which you probably noticed from the stamps. I'm in Canada. And don't worry. The War does not involve heavy artillery . . . I think. So far, I've ridden from Chicago to Toronto in a van with a lot of very bouncy people who know the value of caffeine. I've met Natalie, herself. (She's a very nice person letting me stay here at her apartment with all the other NatPackers. Oh, did I mention that I'm the only guy here?) I also went to a party at the Raven. Trust me, it's not your kind of club, but I had fun just bouncing around with the NatPack. (And no, I am *not* drunk.) I'm still not sure *why* I've been called here, but I'm willing to wait and see. These are very *nice* bouncy people, after all. I'll write more if and when I get the chance. ~ James James addressed the envelope, inserted the letter, sealed the envelope, then very quietly bounced around the room looking for stamps. He found some and made a mental note to ask the first person who woke up two things. One, how many stamps did he need to use; and two, where the nearest mail box was located. Then, he bounced back to his corner and drifted off to sleep. * * * * * ~ James, NatPacker & Farscaper "I do not choose to be nothing." ~ Trent the Uncatchable ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sun Aug 15 12:07:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G1QZ-0006UL-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 10:38:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1215; Sun, 15 Aug 99 10:36:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2105; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 10:36:20 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 10:37:56 EDT Reply-To: SField8067@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Fields Subject: WAR:UF: "If Ya Think I'm Sexy" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c137fbbcad73f903edccf3f69cac226f WAR: UF: "If Ya think I'm Sexy" 1/1 BY: Susan Ellen Field TIME: During the Ravenettes=92 Party (Early Evening) SETTING: The Hive Everyone used with permission Susan returned to her room in the Hive, after cleaning the Broadcast booth at the Raven with her fellow UFfers. The Ravenettes=92 party was not to be missed. There on the bed were all the items Lora had promised to loan her. Susan put them on: the Wonder Bra, followed by the black leather bustier, black leather jacket (from her own wardrobe) and last but not least, really tight black leather pants. Rummaging through her closet, Susan took out her favorite black Payless sneakers. Plus she kept on the yellow rubber gloves she had been wearing to clean, thinking they added just the right touch! Her dark brown hair piled atop her head, and make-up on, she took one last look at herself in the mirror and left to collect her buds. Becky and April, already dressed for the party, were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Becky was wearing a long black A-line skirt, rather tight, with a long sleeved, wide-ribbed, tannish grey cardigan, and black shoes with high stacked heels. Her short red hair framed her face nicely. April was dressed in a gorgeous slate grey gown with a matching bolero jacket set with tiny rhinestones that glittered as the light hit them. She had on silver heels and long rhinestone earrings, and she carried a rhinestone purse. Her reddish-blonde hair was pulled back into a French twist. The combination of bustier and Wonder Bra threw Susan off balance as she tried to seductively descend the staircase, making her grand entrance towards her friends. She tumbled down most of the way! April and Becky ran over to their friend, afraid she had been severely injured. "Susan! Are you okay?=94 asked Becky, helping April to lift their small friend off the floor. Susan opened her eyes and stood up. "Oh, yeah, fortunately the Wonder Bra and bustier broke my fall! Although, they are a bit crushed. Think anyone will notice? Don't ya think I look sexy?=94 April and Becky just looked at each other, rolling their eyes around. With Susan, they expected these things ... "You look =85 er, well =85 my, my, would you look at the time,=94 April said= , swallowing hard and not looking at any watch or clock. "We better hurry or we will miss the party!" And with that, they all swooped out the door. *The End* From - Sun Aug 15 12:07:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G2kI-0000rb-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 12:02:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3768; Sun, 15 Aug 99 11:51:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5736; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 11:51:34 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 11:53:18 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Have Pillow, Have Book (01/03) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ee59536e81e73c2c3497586af7a49747 NA: Have Pillow, Have Book 01/03 By Patt Elmore, with suggestions from the crew Time: Just after midnight, Sun., Aug. 15, 1999 Place: NA Shrine Addicts used with their permission and desire for downright rowdiness ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "OOFF!" "OOUCH!" "GET OFF TAIL!!" "MEOWRRRRRR!!! HISSSSSSSSSS!!" "OH, HECK!" Lights flickered on, revealing Glennis and several large shopping bags, the apparent victims of the will of gravity. The California addict was sprawled across Jesse, with the teenager valiantly trying to squirm out from under her attacker. On either side of Glen stood Dee and Christy, looking guilty as sin. "Hmmmmm, you girls miss curfew?" Patt asked, propping herself up on an elbow and studying the women. "Looks like you made quite a haul." "We did manage to hit a lot of sales," Christy said, while Dee nodded her head vigorously. "That's nice," the mature addict noted. "Why, then, do I have a bad feeling about this?" "Too many Han Solo moments?" Jennifer offered helpfully. She was clutching Patoot to her chest. The cat was eyeing Glennis with a wrathful expression, ready to pounce at the least provocation. Patt's attention was focused on the tardy trio. "Pretty impressive merchant list from what I can see: Vicki's Vixenwear, Limitless, Old Mariner's, Shoes-A-Zillion . . ." Patt gave Dee a questioning look. ". . . K-Wal?" "First aid supplies," Christy offered, while Dee only shrugged. "Remember . . . they were on the list." Patt gave her a blank look. "The list," Christy urged. "The list you gave us this morning. Jules' list that I took to help you out with." Recall kicked in. "Oh, yeah." Total recall followed. "I gave you my credit card to go run some errands with." "That's right!" Christy said, smiling broadly and extending the platinum plastic toward the mature addict. "And I'm returning it to you now, safe and sound. No worse for wear. Magnetic strip still intact." Patt accepted the Mastercard . "Looks like you refurbished your wardrobe while out, too. Where'd you get the cash? I thought your traveler's cheques were in Mouseland." The smiles faded from Dee's and Christy's faces. "They *made* me do it!" Glennis cried out. Jesse gave a mighty shove and rolled out from under the California addict, giving Glennis propulsion enough to sit up. Glen pointed at her compatriots in crime and shouted again. "It's all *their* fault." "Nice little plug for Bonnie's Halloween piece," Patt commented dryly. She looked back at Dee and Christy, her eyes stopping on the Florida addict. "How much?" "Not much," Christy said softly, shuffling her foot behind her. "How much?" Patt repeated, eyes shifting to Dee. "Really, not that much," Dee repeated the party line. "And, we're gonna pay you back, honest." "Lots of sales," Christy continued. "Big bargains." "Meowrrrrrrrrrrrrrr," Patoot growled warningly as Glennis rose to her feet. Her kitty-sister, Guinivere, lifted her head from Jennifer's knee-cradle and hissed. Glennis started to back away, only to be thrashed by Dragon Sallie's tail. "Stay off tail," Dragon warned. "Have blow torch, know how to use." "You all get so grumpy when you get woke up unexpectedly," Glennis observed. "Kind of like my kids when I try to get them up for school." "Your point?" Patt asked. "I think she's trying to redirect," Caren offered. "I know, Cae, I'm the social worker, remember? I know all the tricks." Patt looked back at the trio. "How much?" "Uhhhhhh . . ." Christy began. "Errrrrrr . . ." Dee stammered. "Ahhhhhh . . . " Glennis looked ready to bolt. "TELL HER HOW MUCH SO WE CAN GO BACK TO SLEEP!!" the addicts shouted. "About $6,000.00 . . . give or take a quarter . . . Canadian," Christy said quietly. "How much?" Patt's voice was a hoarse whisper. "About $6,000.00 . . . give or take a quarter . . . Canadian." Egrus Toga whirred into audio mode, giving a verbatim feedback. "I heard her the first time." Patt gave the bot a deadly look, then returned her gaze to the unthrifty addicts. "$6,000.00? $6,000.00?? How in the heck to you spend $6,000.00 in one afternoon????" "It's actually very easy," Tiff interjected, "if you know the right places to shop." Monica and Alanna nodded in agreement. "You are missing the point," Patt said, swinging her legs to the bedside and getting to her feet. Christy and Dee took one step back, while Glennis' eyes darted about, exploring avenues of escape. "I don't care where you shop or how good the bargain is." The Third Cousin snatched one of the bags from Dee's grasp and emptied the contents on the nearest bed, which happened to be Supaige's. "If you shop with someone else's money, you need to be considerate." "Blue light special," Supaige muttered in her sleep. A very silky garment fell from the bag, spreading lightly across Supaige's face. The addict's REM smile intensified. "Nunkies . . . silk . . . boxers . . . briefs . . ." "We're going to pay you back, Patt," Christy reminded the mature addict. "With interest . . ." Dee offered. "Compounded daily!" Glennis chimed in. Dee and Christy turned to glare at the other woman. "What?" Glennis demanded. "What did I say?" "Compound this," Patt said, advancing on the women. But the threat was never made good . . . well, not in the way Patt probably planned, anyway. While moving toward her quarry, Patt spied something from the corner of her eye. Moving across the floor, with measured swiftness, was Cousin Gwendolyn. Dangling from the cat's mouth was the obvious form of a . . ." "RAT!!!!" Ivy screamed and at least ten women simultaneously extracted themselves from their coverlets and jumped atop their beds, divans and other assorted furniture. "Come back here, Gwen," Jesse called to the fast moving cat. "You can't kill that rodent - - it's against the War rules. Your mama will be furious." Gwen stopped, stared at the addicts and appeared to consider this piece of new information. Then, she opened her mouth and dropped the rat. The dazed rodent staggered for a moment, then pellmelled across the floor, heading straight at the addicts. The women began to scream and jump up and down on their perches. "Bram!!" Patt shouted from atop her cot. "Newt it!" Bram gave the mature addict a confused look. "Newt?" "What's all the screaming and hollering about?" Jules ran into the room. The rat changed course, heading in the HP's direction. It skittered between her legs and disappeared under her floor length, silken robe. Jules' eyes opened wide and she shrieked. The rat re-appeared, changed course again and ran for the Kitchen/Lab. "What the . . .?" Erik appeared at the K/L door, just as the rat flashed by. Four cats were now in pursuit of the rodent, and Erik had the pleasure of discovering the same law of gravity which befell Glennis earlier in this segment. The Nunkamale stumbled with great dignity, caught himself and righted his posture in a movement so fast that it took the female addicts' breaths away. They applauded enthusiastically. "I'll handle this," Erik announced. He took off after the cats and the rat, disappearing into the K/L. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part 01/03 to be continued patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 15 12:33:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G3B5-00029h-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 12:30:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3900; Sun, 15 Aug 99 12:28:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8240; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 12:28:34 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 12:29:07 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: Cousins - McLisa detours 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f6ee35015298f7e8e500cc48fd34dbf5 I am not sure I actually sent this, because it hasn't shown up. If this is a dup, I'm sorry. Cousins: McLisa Detours 1/1 Time: The Morning of Friday the 13th Place: I-95 South; several blocks from CERK McLisa successfully negotiated what she always thought of as the jump to warp speed when entering a freeway, settled her car into the exact speed limit under cruise control, and sat back in her seat. Good ol' Trine. (Pronounced "Treen.") McLisa had named the dark red, four-door Saturn after her favorite student assistant in her first library job, at a small Tennessee college, because the car was also a bright Tennessee girl. (For those who don't know, Saturns are made at a plant in Tennessee.) No flies on this car -- she got it right every time. She sat right back up again with a yelp. The highway had disappeared. In its place was the Toronto street which, several blocks ahead, was blighted by the presence of the CERK building. "Chill, sweetie," said a voice from the radio, which was not on. "I've got us on course and under the limit." "What the --" gulped McLisa, who suddenly wished she'd had another cup of coffee at that Bob Evans. Maybe two more cups of coffee. "Relax," the car continued. "It's me, Trine." By now McLisa had identified the voice. Trine sounded very like Dixie Carter. The human took a deep breath and tried to speak coherently. "It was that double-truck, wasn't it? I'm in a hospital in a coma, having hallucinations." She fought the impulse to scream and claw at the wheel. "Nope, I gave that jerk the slip in one rev." The Saturn pulled gracefully to a stop at one of Toronto's many trolley tracks. "Then it was one of those buses -- oh, God, I'm not dead and damned to drive for eternity, am I?" McLisa couldn't keep the whimper entirely out of her voice. "Cool it, Mom! You're fine, Trine's fine, I'm fine." A small calico-tabby cat with a white chest and paws and wide green eyes was sitting primly in the front passenger seat, tailed curled around her. Tizzie, of course, still sounding remarkably like Sally Field. "No use, kitty-cat," Trine said. "She's just naturally tense. I thought her hands were going to have to be surgically removed from my wheel after the DC Beltway." A smile formed on McLisa's face. It was the sort of smile generally found on the heavily tranquilized. Of course, McLisa thought. My car and my car are dissing me and suddenly I'm in Toronto. It's a war. Ok, CERK and LaCroix, here I come. And, FK Fanfic fairies, this has your little fairy dust marks all over it. I'll get you for this. Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Sun Aug 15 13:07:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G3iG-0002wg-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 13:04:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4036; Sun, 15 Aug 99 13:02:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9964; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 13:02:51 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 13:04:33 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Have Pillow, Have Book (02/03) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ee71a1e23957e20470d42ce84b4aa16f NA: Have Pillow, Have Book 02/03 By Patt Elmore, with suggestions from the crew Time: Just after midnight, Sun., Aug. 15, 1999 Before: "You and Me and the Powder Make 3 Tonight" (01/01) Place: NA Shrine Addicts used with their permission and desire for downright rowdiness ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In a few moments, Erik reappeared through the swinging doors, hot-footing it across the marble floor. The rat was still trying to avoid the cats, now six in number, which made the rat appear to be chasing the man. Erik nimbly jumped atop the nearest cot, taking shelter beside Lisl. "How's the handling going?" Caren asked. "Well enough," Erik replied. He reached down and grabbed Lisl's pillow. He quickly shoved and prodded all of the feathers to one end, until they made a hard wad. Eric jumped off the bed again, took careful aim and swiped at the fleeing rat, just as it ran past. The rat rolled across the floor, then stood up and shook vigorously. When last seen, it was streaking down the anteroom hallway, ten cats trailing it. "See?" Erik stood erect, preening proudly. "All taken care of." "What would you have done if it had been foam . . . instead of feathers?" Caren asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't see you doing anything productive, Ms. I'm-getting- up-as-high-and-as-far-away-as-I-can," Erik replied loftily. "Foam, instead of feathers?" Caren insisted. Erik considered her challenge. He reached over to another addict's bed and grabbed a foam filled pillow. "I suppose I would have done this . . ." Erik swiped at Caren's legs with the pillow, grazing them slightly. A wicked look flared in the Louisiana addict's eyes. "No," Patt said, recognizing a brewing altercation when it loomed. "Not that!" But, as the words were leaving the Third Cousin's mouth, Caren was reaching for her big, fluffy, Grandma pillow. Caren, you see, didn't want to maim . . . just facilitate communication. She trounced Erik atop the head with the huge bolster. "Diversionary tactic," Glennis noted, then poked Dee and Christy. "Grab a pillow and attack!" Dee and Christy nodded and followed Glen into battle. They grabbed pillows from nearby beds and began slinging them at random. As Erik jumped aside to avoid Caren's blows, Lisl was left in line for direct attack. The large Granny pillow found its mark, impacting the tall blonde's mid-section. Lisl crumpled with a loud "Oof!" "Sorry," Caren said, her voice sincerely apologetic. "I'll say you are," Ivy came to the verbal aid of her new friend. "Hit a defenseless woman . . . " The other blonde was already reaching for ammunition. "You don't want to go there . . ." Caren warned, tightening her hold on the Granny. "Yes, I do," Ivy replied, lifting her own fire power. The women swung simultaneously, each connecting with their blow. Caren was the quickest to strike a second time, but Ivy deftly parried the assault with some very fancy Karate footwork. The blow of Ivy's foot sent Caren and her pillow hurtling across the floor. "Stop! Please, stop!" Patt shouted as things proceeded to get out of control. The mature addict held her hands aloft, signaling for peace, but was pretty much ignored. Glennis was engaged in mortal combat with Heather. The MacCousin, sensing battle was at hand, had somehow managed to streak her face blue and emitted a fierce war cry as she thrust her feather weapon at the California woman. Glennis rocked back on her heals, avoided most of the blow and grinned confidently. Glen's smile faded, however, when Dee struck her from behind. "Hey! Why the traitorous act?" Glen wailed in protest as she turned to stare at Dee. "Because you have a big mouth!" Dee swung again, with the intention of filling Glennis' large oral cavity with a good portion of covered foam. Instead, Dee moved herself directly into line of a fierce rounder courtesy of Niteflyer. "There can be only ONE!!" The dark-haired addict giggled with glee as her blow struck home. Mayhem ensued. Over in one corner, Tiff and Bram were holding an interesting discussion. "Feather!" Tiff insisted, striking Bram on the shoulder. "Foam!" Bram was adamant, her blow striking Tiff's butt. "Feather!" "Foam" "Pamphlets!" Jennifer announced, joining the now threesome. She swung hard, jolting both Tiff and Bram with her blow. "Pamphlets?" The two addicts looked at Jen with confusion. "Yep, I found a bunch of these things floating outside when I was feeding Coup." Jennifer opened the pillow case so that Bram and Tiff could peek inside. "They look like those flyers that KC was handing out. Decided to make use of them. Good pillow stuffing--especially for weapon pillows." "And how did you know that you'd need armament?" Tiff asked coldly. Jennifer shrugged. "Patt's writing this, so what do you expect?" Tiff and Bram regarded this statement thoughtfully, then nodded. "To battle!!" they cried, and jumped back into the fray. "Please stop!!" Patt shouted again, and again she was pretty much ignored. "Did Dragon tell you she's in love?" Sallie said to her new companion as the battle raged above their heads. Egrus Toga whirred and beeped, but said nothing. He could be a good listener, you know. "Yes," Sallie sighed dreamily. "He has blowtorch, too. *BIG* blowtorch." Above them, Jesse leaped gracefully from cot to bed to divan and back to cot again. The teenager felled addicts as she went, striking with the grace of Zorro. Jesse clipped Monica's forehead, sending the Puerto Rican woman tumbling. Like a ball to bowling pins, Monica's fall drew Alanna and Christy down in her wake. Both of the latter women regained their balance quickly and began pounding on the still prone Monica. Jesse gave a loud war whoop and continued her bounding. "Stop! Oh, please, stop!" Patt futilely waved her arms for attention. "Having trouble establishing authority?" Jules asked coolly from beside the Third Cousin. Patt turned, her face paling. "Any suggestions?" Jules shrugged. "Let them play . . . then give them grout duty in the morning." The HP smiled, turned and went back to her quarters. Patt surveyed the rumbling room again. "Tis cool," she said, just backing up enough so that Jesse bouncing by did not graze her. As the teenager hopped past, Patt slapped her thigh. "Settle down a little, okay?" Jesse did not hear the words; she just felt the blow. With no thought of consequence, the teen turned and brought her pillow crashing down upon the Third Cousin's skull. Patt went down like a stone. "Ohhhhhhh," several of the addicts stopped their activity and stared at the floor hugging mature addict. "That had to hurt," Caren observed. "I guess she knows now how LC felt when she way-layed him with the Budweiser ," Heather added. A moment of silence for their fallen comrade, then the battle commenced again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part 02/03 To be continued patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 15 13:07:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G3jP-0004Ie-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 13:06:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1821; Sun, 15 Aug 99 13:03:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0003; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 13:03:57 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 13:05:34 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Have Pillow, Have Book (03/03) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 51a47d0e194a4929f6536a833f9ee938 NA: Have Pillow, Have Book 03/03 By Patt Elmore, with suggestions from the crew Time: Just after midnight, Sun., Aug. 15, 1999 Before: "You and Me and the Powder Make 3 Tonight" (01/01) Place: NA Shrine Addicts used with their permission and desire for downright rowdiness ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The battle raged on. Heather war cried, Jesse whooped and Monica bellowed Spanish expletives worthy of any Vaquera. Tiff threw in some Italian phrases, which impressed a reviving Patt. "Need some help?" Erik asked, holding a hand out to the drowsy Third Cousin. "Is there a catch?" Patt asked from her spot on the floor. "Just don't look up my nightshirt," Erik grinned. Patt grinned back. "No deal, if I get a chance to peek," the mature one replied. Erik withdrew his hand and returned his attention to the brawling room. "To arms!" he cried and, clutching his wadded pillow, he waded back into action. Patt rolled to her knees and stood up. The damage still appeared to be minimal--a few feathers and foam pieces here and there, but no extraordinary amount of floating fluff. Maybe things would be okay. "What in blue blazes and Arkansas grief is going on in here?" Several heads turned to see who the voice belonged to. Annie, dressed in formal wear and looking quite splendid, stood at the Peach entrance, eyeing the conflict. "Pillow fight!!" the addicts shouted gleefully. Annie stared at them for a minute, then she shrugged. "Okay, but just remember--you have to clean up any damage. And, lights go back out by 1 a.m." The NunkMommy turned on her well-heeled heel and headed for the anteroom hallway. The addicts booed and called Annie some choice names (all of them out of hearing range) then, realizing that time was wasting, began slinging their pillows again. "I want to ask you something," Christy said as she swung her bolster at Erik. "When the rat incident commenced, you came running out of the Kitchen/Lab. How come we didn't see you in there when we snuck in?" Erik ducked and grinned. "Want the cheesy rationalization or the truth?" Christy followed through and steadied herself for the blow she knew was coming. "Truth first, cheesy second" "Patt forgot about you coming through the Kitchen/Lab entrance." The Nunkamale went back for a hard blow. "But she wrote that segment," Christy protested, rocking back to avoid Erik's swing. "Yep, but she can't remember what she's written five minutes after it's down on disk. That's what takes her so long--she's constantly rereading and regrouping her plot lines." "Oh," Christy bent at the waist and avoided Erik's pillow thrust. "What about the cheesy?" "I was sleeping in the Ratpacker tunnel entrance cove," Erik replied. "That makes sense." "Glad to be able to provide the information." Both addicts swung their weapons, impacting simultaneously. Feathers began to cascade. "Now we're getting to the meat of the matter," Tiff noted with triumph. She turned and let Nite have it with a hard blow to the upper back. "Break a nail and you're *dead* meat," Niteflyer informed the other woman. Jesse bounced by, this time using the floor as her means of transporting herself. She spied something under Tiff's bed and stooped to grab it. "Not the BAG!" Tiff shouted as Jesse pulled the pack into full sight. "But diversity of weaponry is what makes battle interesting," Jesse explained. Several addicts shouted protests regarding Jess' intent, so the teenager shrugged and toed the bag back under Tiff's cot. "When Dragon is in love, Dragon is very happy." Sallie continued her monolog in Egrus Toga's direction. The little bot beeped, but only half-heartedly this time. Sallie didn't seem to notice. "Only one other thing make Dragon as happy as being in love with *BIG* blowtorch man-- treasure." Egrus bleeped in what can only be described as a bot sigh. The little blender began to slowly roll away from the strange scaled creature. "And, to celebrate Dragon in love, Dragon deserve a small token," Sallie rambled on, her eyes beginning to glitter. She looked toward Monica, who was vigorously engaged in pillow pushing with Bram. As if in response to Dragon Sallie's mental wish, Monica's pendent broke and flew into the air, landing several inches from the Dragon's nose. "Dragon must do what Dragon must do." Honest to her nature, Sallie reached out and, unobserved, pilfered the fallen element. It was at this moment that Supaige sat up. She'd been sleeping blissfully through the battle, and now, as she rose, she was greeted by a three-sided assault. The blonde addict whimpered slightly at the blows, then melted smoothly back into sleep mode. By 12:48, the room was covered with feathers and foam chunks, bits of scattered linen and addict hair. It had been a very fine battle. And Patt, bless her, got in the last blow. With wild abandon, she lifted her orange cushion to the ceiling and broke the overhead light fixture, plunging the Shrine altar room into darkness. The room grew still. "Sleep now," the Third Cousin ordered. "Grout tomorrow." "I'm sure GROUT is gonna get you when they discover you've broken that light and they'll have to repair it," Caren pointed out. "Well," Patt drawled, "I'll just add that to my list of things to worry about tomorrow." "Patt . . . I have a question," Jennifer spoke from the darkness. "What is it?" "Errrr, why is the title of this piece , 'Have Pillow, Have Book'?" "Truth: It's a vague pun on the UF zine," the mature addict replied. "Cheesy: It refers to how this segment ends." "????" "Someones getting the *book* thrown at them." Patt smiled in the darkness as the addicts all hushed at this announcement. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End 03/03 patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 15 14:59:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G4RG-0000jc-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 13:51:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2039; Sun, 15 Aug 99 13:49:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2877; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 13:49:11 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 11:43:42 -0600 Reply-To: "K. Astop" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "K. Astop" Subject: WAR: Knighties: Breakfast Woes To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: eb798f284cdfb85835b49b9773f4e006 Title: Breakfast Woes Author: Zoe Place: The Loft Time/Date: August 15th, 1999 9:30ish Right after: Coffee in the Morning Katrinka and Nick s feet used with permission. A strange smell enveloped her nose. It was a pleasant smell, warm and inviting. Zoe frowned in her sleep and rolled over, grumbling, trying to shake off the persistent aroma. It teased her relentlessly. Taunting her to open her eyes and investigate its captivating fragrance. "Come on, Zoe, wake up. You know, you want me. Now, come and get me!" It jeered her sleep-filled consciousness. Her green eyes flashed open, the smell beating her with its subterfuge. >From her vantagepoint beneath the stairs, she spied a set of feet traveling upwards. (I don t remember putting stairs over my bed) she thought, perplexed (or men s feet for that matter). She blinked away her sleepiness, and sat up. (You re in the Loft. You remember, my little slumbering sister, War, Knighties, and Nick? Am I ringing any bells yet?) Zoe squinted, her eyes beginning to focus. (Yes, yes, yes, I got it!) She brushed back her mahogany locks, frowning. "Okay, I smell coffee!" Zoe blurted out, her voice echoing within the cemented walls of the Loft. She was greeted by several grunts and groans from various Knighties that were strewn throughout the insides of the Loft. She cringed, and whispered, "Oops, sorry, guys." She clamored out of her restplace and stretched. It had been only two nights in the loft and Zoe still hadn t gotten use to it. The floor was cold and clammy, and she had never been one for roughing it. She was too accustomed to her soft and comfortable bed. (It s War, sister, not a couple weeks at Club Med !) She scowled at her thoughts, scourging them back into her brain. Just as the hard and cold floor was a new experience, so was War. "Mornin ," Zoe said half-heartedly as she sashayed into the kitchen. "Hey, Zoe, hungry?" Katrinka smiled and gestured to the delicacies that laced the top of the table. "Blech," Zoe shivered, and wrinkled up her nose, "I can t do breakfast. Especially, curry. But," her eyes quickly moved to the pot of coffee that had teased her out of her sleep, "coffee would do quite nicely." She side-stepped to the pot and filled a large mug, in which she threw a heap of sugar and some cream. "Yum, nothing does it better than a hot cup of Java. Jeez, I sound like a Dark Perk," she said, smiling impishly, as she flopped down next to Katrinka. She raised the mug to her lips and took in the beige ambrosia. For several moments, she reveled in the morning beverage, until her eyes fell upon a dirty dish that sat in front of her, "Looks like someone has been shoveling it back already." Katrinka nodded, "I made Nick breakfast." The woman s chocolate eyes twinkled behind her glasses as she bit down on another morsel of her own curry-laden breakfast. "What did he eat?" Zoe blinked, her eyes still on the food-smeared plate. "A bit of everything," Katrinka beamed, "I think he liked the curry best." "You fed him curry?!" Zoe gaped, "Does he even know what that stuff can do to a person? It s like, well, its like consumable TNT!" Katrinka shrugged, causing her long mane to bounce, "He wanted to taste it." Zoe winced slightly. She still wasn't use to the new Mortal Nick and could not, for the life of her, wrap her head around the fact that her favorite flaxen-headed vampire guy was now as mortal as she. Although a Knightie she was, her propensity was to lean towards the Dark end of the spectrum, and Nick s newfound mortality vexed her. She muttered something grudgingly, about accepting him, mortal or immortal, and looked at her ebony-haired companion, "So does that mean he has to do dishes?" A puckish smile curled at the corner of her mouth as visions of soap bubbles and pot scrubbers danced in her head. ~Fin~ From - Sun Aug 15 14:59:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G56H-00063C-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 14:33:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4361; Sun, 15 Aug 99 14:31:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4988; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 14:31:39 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 13:33:27 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: I Bring You A Message Of Peace (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 74ffeb747b9d597237a5b13e3bba0d80 NA: I Bring You A Message of Peace (2/3) By Bonnie Rutledge & KC Susan Nix Starring: Glennis, KC, Sukh, MacCousin Heather, N&NP Leader Soulseeker, CotK Leaders Morgaine & Lisa Harvey, Cousinly Leaders Tok and Tser, Cousin Isabella, Light Cousin Leader Arletta Asbury, and Nick's Cactus Time: Sunday August 15th Location: Various Faction HQs Glennis adjusted her peach cap, trying the catch the proper service-industry mojo for the task ahead. The bellhop uniforms Bonnie had forced everyone to wear were cute, but they were prone to cause wedgies. There were definite pros to the toga as faction costume. The pretty (pretty big) cottage that the Cousins of the Knight called home lay just ahead. In a sudden fit of stage fright, Glennis made one last check of her supplies. Envelopes: check. Kazoo: check. Wheelbarrow: check. Glennis took in a deep breath of satisfaction, then meandered over the moat bridge, up the front path and rapped softly on the cottage's front door. She heard the sounds of locks being unbolted, then the door opened just enough for one CotK to stick their nose out. "Yes?" Glennis saluted. "Special Delivery for your leaders! Lisa Harvey and Morgaine...come on out!" "Who's the delivery from?" "Nunkies Anonymous." "Don't you kidnap people?" "Only on Tuesdays," Glennis promised solemnly. She bowed, then shot the CotK's nose a winning smile that telegraphed the messages 'Yes, I am trustworthy. No, I don't have Sacred Cold Water Balloons behind my back. Yes, it is Sunday.' Apparently, she was successful, for after a minute of hushed calls, the clucking of otherworldly chickens, and intense whispering behind the door, the cottage opened to reveal two women. "You have something for us?" Lisa asked tentatively. Glennis pulled out her kazoo and wheezled a few bars. She then sprang up on tippytoe and did a pirouette. Dipping a hand into her wheelbarrow, she sprinkled a fistful of white rose petals on their heads, then slipped her hands into her pockets, producing two envelopes. Glennis bowed again as she presented each leader with one of the packets. "I Bring You...A Message of Peace." Morgaine and Lisa gave the still-bowing Glennis strange looked as they gingerly opened the envelopes. Inside, they found a simple gilded coupon which read in large letters: This Coupon Entitles The Bearer To One Free PERSONAL TRANQUILLITY DEVICE Of Their Choice In smaller print followed; "Stumped for an idea? Snixco catalogues are available upon request. Delivery of actual PTD's provided by Fanfic Fairies Unlimited" "So..." Morgaine asked. "This means, we decide what our Personal Tranquillity Device is, and the fanfic fairies instantly *poof!* it to us?" "Exactly!" Glennis said cheerfully as she finally rose from her bow. Mission accomplished, she picked up the handles of her wheelbarrow and headed for her next stop, leaving the CotK leaders alone to ponder their windfall. ******************************************************************** KC marched down the Toronto streets with a definite purpose. By golly, she had a job to do, and she was gonna do it! She returned the curious looks of strangers with defiant stares. So what if she was in a peach bellhop uniform? She wasn't going to let that sully her sense of duty. Besides, she looked good in peach! KC was feeling strangely loyal and dutiful. Maybe it was the medication. She soon turned onto the street where the Nick & Nat Pack's refurbished theater stood. She was gonna deliver like no messenger had delivered before, even them Greek fellas! Sure, she didn't drop dead from running, but the lil' trickster was no dummy. She finally arrived at her destination and knocked a bit forcefully on the door. An N&NP head popped out and looked the oddly clad young woman up and down. "No one gets to see the Mommy, no way no how!" the person said. "I need to see Soul," KC declared boldly. "Whatsa matter, you got tiramisu in your ears? I told you, no one gets to see the Mommy!" the person said stubbornly. KC was quickly running out of patience. Nothing unusual there. "Look, ya little ferret," KC began. "I came here to do a good deed. And by Nunkies, I'm gonna do it if I have to give you an atomic wedgie!" KC thought, with an annoyed twitch at her tight bellhop pants. The Packer looked spooked for a moment, then quickly retreated. Shortly afterward, Soul appeared in the doorway. "What do you want?" she asked. KC cleared her throat. "I Bring You A... Message Of Peace!" she declared. The Kissing Cousin beamed, apparently proud of her delivery. "I see...courtesy of whom?" Soul said suspiciously. "Nunkies Anonymous! Where we take the dark side and make it fun!" KC answered gleefully. Soul leaned out of the doorway in apparent interest. "Why do you want do something nice for us? What's the catch? There's no icing involved, is there?" "No catch, my little tomato," KC replied. "It's kind of a karma thing. So enjoy the fruits of our appreciation." KC pulled out a small slip of gilded paper and handed it to the fearless leader, who took it cautiously and read the bold printing on the paper. "One free tranquillity device of my choice?" Soul asked incredulously. "I don't believe it!" "It's real, my little sausage patty," KC said, tugging on her peach gloves. "I guess I had you Nunkies Addicts pegged all wrong!" Soul said. "I thought you were all a bunch of drooly cutthroats!" "A common mistake of outsiders," KC said, moving her epaulettes a bit when she shrugged her shoulders. She then handed Soul a copy of the Snixco catalogue, volumes one and two. The way Soul hunched from the weight, it seemed there may be a possibility of chiropractic treatment in her tranquil future. "When you make your choice, the fanfic fairies will supply. Farewell from Nunkies Anonymous!" "Thanks!" Soul said appreciatively as KC turned to head back to the Jeweled Peach. "Every now and then," KC thought. "I can do a good thing." ***************************************************************** Two women in peach bellhop uniforms and blue face paint assaulted the Cousinly Receptionist. It wasn't a serious assault, more a noisy disturbance. These things happen when people parade around lobbies, whooping and shaking their spears. "We came tae see thae lairds!" they demanded. Cousin Isabella replied that that was all well and good, but their leaders were pretty darn busy at the moment. Noting the cut and style of their outfits, she wasn't very impressed. Totally un-sketchworthy. It wasn't until the visitors threatened to drop trou and show lassie the Scottish moon that Isabella decided the leaders weren't *that* busy and called them down. A puzzled Tok and Tser soon entered the lobby, followed by Arletta, their Light Cousinly peer. Tser's face brightened as she recognized Sukh and MacCousin Heather, some of her old friends from Nunkies Anonymous, then she frowned. "Cousin Gwen is fine, isn't she?" The MacCousin raised a hand. "Nae tae worry. Tha' wee dignified one is well. We've been keepin' a close eye." "We've come for other purposes," Sukh announced. "Such as?" Arletta asked, still curious about these strange blue people, no matter how relaxed Tser was about it. Two fanfic fairies popped into view, carrying a lovely, healthy cactus between them. They fluttered over to Tser, dropping the pot into her surprised hands. "MacBons kidnapped this from thae Knighties last war, and they never quite managed tae get it back tae thae loft. Thae fairies have been tending it," Sukh explained, "but she thought you should add it tae thae Cousinly Critters." Tser pondered that suggestion. "Can a plant count as a critter?" "But the cactus, apparently, only involves Tser," Tok broke in. "Why did you need to see any other leaders?" They cringed as Sukh and Heather raised their spears in the air and let out a battle cry. Even more precarious was the moment when both women reached into their bellboy jackets and produced something from their weaponry of cleavage. "Coupons!" Heather called. "Golden tickets!" Sukh echoed. They held them out to the leaders, chanting, "We Bring Yae... A Message O' Peace!" Tok perked up as she read the inscription on the coupon. "Not bad. There's more than three tickets here, though." "Extra for Bob," Sukh explained. "Extra extra for McLisa," Heather added. "ListMa'am needs Peace mor'n thae Middle East." "Will yae be needin' any Snixco catalogues this merry afternoon?" Sukh inquired politely. "Why not?" Tser said without thinking. The fanfic fairies poofed two enormous volumes into sight. Sukh and the MacCousin tossed them toward the leadership as though they were cabers, then left the building. "Somehow," Arletta observed as she tried to keep from dropping volume two on her feet, "I imagined getting through the day without someone throwing the book at me." Tok shook her head. "We've got to stop getting these strange and mystical deliveries! I never thought I'd say it, but where are the good ol' simple days, when people sent us spray-on hair!?" ********************************************************************** End of Part Two Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Sun Aug 15 14:59:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G56M-00076b-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 14:33:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5940; Sun, 15 Aug 99 14:31:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5002; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 14:31:41 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 13:33:28 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: I Bring You A Message Of Peace (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 39efd8653af724277b3fc7969ad49b80 NA: I Bring You A Message of Peace (3/3) By Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Jennifer, Ary, Shele, 'Nothers Leader Fleurette, Mrs. Connors, Knightie Leaders Nancy Taylor & Jennifer Mendenhall, The Grand High Poobah Time: Sunday August 15th Location: Various Faction HQs Ary and Jennifer were congregated below the loft's security camera. "Last check," Ary said. "Are you absolutely, positively certain there are no outstanding warrants for your person?" "I'm clean," Jennifer insisted. "Really!" "Because you know how arrest-happy TOG is when it comes to NA. Jules said, since LaCroix's only released funds to us for construction purposes, everybody's got to supply their own bail money. Either that, or you become GROUT's indentured servant." "I know, I know," Jennifer repeated. "I'm clean, I tell you! And even if I *had* parked my horse illegally or something, chances are TOG won't answer the buzzer, much less come down." "I knew it!" Ary announced, catching Jennifer in her fib. Cutting off further discussion of her potential criminal record, Jennifer rang the Knighties upstairs. ****************************************************************** "Who is it?" Nancy called. Jenn studied the two women in peach bellhop uniforms waving at the camera. "It's definitely not Avon." Nancy came closer to see. "Oh, no. It's not an attack is it? We've been so busy celebrating the changes in Nick, we haven't really prepared for an attack!" Both leaders paused to share an angsty moment. Any mess would be *their* fault. Yes, the loft had been insulated against spying and such, but it hadn't really occurred to them that an offending faction might just try ringing the doorbell. "We could always not answer it," Knightie Jenn suggested. "That would be the coward's way out," Nancy replied. "Let's walk downstairs ourselves and see what these two characters want, rather than invite them up to the loft. That would just be asking for trouble." "Okay." Jenn nodded. When they exited the warehouse, they found the two bellhops still waving at the camera, albeit some of the sincerity had gone out of their arm-pumping by now. "Who are you?" Nancy demanded. "What do you want?" Jenn asked. Originally, this was the point where the Addicts had planned to break out into a snappy song and dance number. It had worked great in Shrine rehearsal, at least in between the cabbage peltings. Jennifer and Ary hadn't counted on the tight bellhop pants Bonnie would make them wear, though. 'I can see why those boys are hopping,' was Jennifer's opinion. So, instead of snappy, their conveniently placed boombox provided some warbling sitar tunes. Instead of fan kicks, Jennifer and Ary weaved their groovy selves in place, doing a fair interpretation of seasick monkeys. Jennifer produced a bucket filled with plastic daisies and started to throw clouds of artificial petals in the Knightie leaders' faces. "We Bring You...A Message Of Peace!" Ary intoned. Nancy and Jenn waved their hands, trying to keep the plastic flowers from poking their eyes out. They didn't speak, since they weren't particularly keen on eating daisies, either. When the coast cleared of celebratory debris, the Knightie leaders risked a new look, and were surprised to find the two maniacal bellhops bowing before them, four envelopes extended from their stiff arms. Jenn and Nancy exchanged a look. finally, biting the proverbial bullet, Nancy took a deep breath and tore open one of the envelopes. Inside, she found a richly embossed ticket. "Jenn!" she exclaimed. "Take a look!" Jenn did as she asked, read the inscription on the coupon, then frowned at the delivery-wackos. "Who *are* you people?" "Nunkies Addicts!" Jennifer beamed as she hopped to a stand, and Ary followed. They both made brief salutes, then started unning away down the alley. The Knightie leaders heard them call as they became dots on the horizon, "The third one's for Chris.....The fourth one's for Kat....." "Oh." Nancy said, staring at her ticket. Jenn smacked her forehead with a palm. "Addicts bearing gifts of peace during a war? To us? We'd better tell Nick. His becoming mortal could have had some strange side-effects that we haven't realized yet." Nancy nodded. "This side effect wasn't bad though," she said hopefully, but her cheerful expression soon turned to doubt. "I feel bad now. Those addicts came here to give us something *nice,* and we didn't even invite them in for a protein shake." Both heads of the Knightie leaders drooped guiltily. "We're bad hosts. It's *all* our fault." ******************************************************************* Fleurette glanced up from perusing a baby catalogue when Mrs. Connors called her name. "Yes?" The housekeeper was efficient and to the point. "You have some guests asking for you. They said they're from Nunkies Anonymous." Fleurette brightened. It was good to know her addict pals didn't take playing with another War faction as an offense. She wouldn't trade the 'Nothers for anything, but, still, she had been experiencing a bit of Shrine withdrawal. (Or was that morning sickness?) "Please, Mrs. Connors, show them in!" The leader of the 'Nothers' delight increased tenfold as she recognized Ted, the Buff Slave Boy. He was wearing pretty much everyone's favorite costume: the black leather pants with matching vest, featuring lots of muscled chest. "Why, hello, Ted!" Fleurette exclaimed as she rose to her feet. "You're looking suitably devastating today!" There's no law that says pregnant women can't flirt. Ted grinned, one of those grins that implied he was thinking very wicked thoughts. "And you're glowing, Debbie...I like -" Fleurette jumped when Ted's compliments were interrupted by a series of "Mffffiiie! Mfffer-mifffff-mmmmmuuummffllle!" sounds. Peering around Ted's manly form, she finally took a close look at the object he had rolled into the room with him. It was a large hunk of plaster, roughly five and a half feet tall and three feet wide, propped up on a luggage cart. A round peach hat resembling a bellboy's uniform was stuck on top of this mysterious pillar, and a matching uniform was stapled to its front. Around the back, Fleurette espied a lovely rendering of the Appian Way. The column wasn't completely solid: there were three drill holes littered around the top end. Fleurette curiously poked her finger into one of them. "Mmmmf! Mmmmmiikkk! Mffffrrr!" the pillar exclaimed. "Shele says to get your stinkin' finger out of her ear," Ted interpreted. In shock, Fleurette quickly complied. "This *thing* is Shele!!?!! What on earth happened???" "Mrrrreeee-mmmrrrrggg mmmfffffddddttt!" Again, Ted explained. "Decorating accident." "Oh." Fleurette patted Shele's - she hoped - plastered shoulder. "I hope you get better soon." She snapped her fingers with a sudden idea, then moved to rummage through her desk. Producing a Sharpie, she asked Shele, "Do you mind if I sign you?" "Mmm-mmayy." Fleurette glanced at Ted for assistance. "She said 'okay,' didn't she?" Ted grinned. "Even if she said 'hell, no!' what's she going to do about it in her condition?" There came an indignant muffle. "Mmmmmfffddd!" Fleurette used her prettiest calligraphy on an exposed section of white. 'To Shele: The Most Solid Addict I Know. Hugs, Debbie.' Ted apparently decided to get to the focus of their Chateau visit. "Fleurette, we're here on a mission from Bons." "Really? You know, I've been trying to beep her, and she never returns my calls. It's been very frustrating. Is she making some kind of peace offering to apologize?" Ted grimaced. "You could say that, though why she wants to dump all this warm and fuzzy rhetoric into a perfectly good war is beyond me. I say, let the mayhem and nervous breakdowns run their course." "You would," Fleurette retorted. Ted kind of had a 'God of War' quality going for him. "Mmmy - mmmmnngg - mmmmu - mm - mm-mgggghh - mm - mmmmss!" Shele called insistently. Ted pointed toward the plastered poet. "That was her big line. Smile and act appreciative." Fleurette did, cooing and acting impressed. Under her breath, she mumbled for Ted's benefit, "What did she say, exactly?" Ted handed over a parchment envelope, looking a little disgusted. "She Brings You... A Message Of Peace!" With that, he moved to lift the handles of the luggage rack. "We've got to go now. Shele's due for her afternoon snack and sanding. Don't tell anyone I was here spreading joy, okay?" Fleurette nodded, waving them out of the room as she called her goodbyes. Then, she opened the envelope. ******************************************************************** The Grand High Poobah of the Mercenary Guild was in a bad mood. Big surprise. The interesting thing about her Poobahliciousness' irritation was its immediate cause: two fanfic fairies, fluttering their gossamer wings, had just poofed into her office. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?!?" she screeched. "GET YOUR TINY DUSTY BEHINDS OUT OF MY HQ!!!" The Grand High Poobah was holding a grudge from the last war. Big surprise. She was ready to launch into a tirade against the untrustworthiness of Nunkie, who had promised to whammy all knowledge of Merc Central's location out of his cohort's heads, but then she remembered: she'd specified the Nunkie Idiots, not their supernatural plague of henchpeople. "F. Hugh!" she bellowed. There was a fiery, hissing noise, and Laur's evil fairy appeared over her shoulder. "Sic 'em." F. Hugh pushed up his sleeves and raised his dukes, causing the other two fairies to tremble. They squeaked and dove under the Poobah's desk. There was another *poofing* sound, and an envelope appeared in mid-air, just above Laur's head. Gravity kicked in, and it smacked her it the face before ricocheting onto her desk. "What the -?" The GHP ripped the envelope open, muttering promises of doom even as she began to read the golden placard. "A Personal Tranquillity Device??? From the Nunkie Defects??? You've got to be kidding me!" Laur crumpled the coupon and tossed it into the trash. She studied F. Hugh as he ducked under her bureau, looking for some fairy asses to kick. The Poobah was struck by sudden inspiration. An expression of pure covetous greed consumed her face. Maybe there was something she was interested in taking after all. ********************************************************************* Over the course of Sunday afternoon, all the faction leaders and their seconds-in-command received similar visits (yes, all you leaders not mentioned in this post), all resulting in the delivery of identical golden tickets good for one Personal Tranquillity Device of their choosing. What they'd do with them remained to be read... ********************************************************************* Fin for now... Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Sun Aug 15 14:59:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G5EH-0007MN-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 14:42:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4412; Sun, 15 Aug 99 14:39:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5578; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 14:40:00 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 14:46:11 -0500 Reply-To: Chanda Keith Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chanda Keith Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Raven, Sweet Raven To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 83df61b10f9109406fad38a1c3f29268 Sunday, August 15th Noon "Well, here we are." I said as I pulled the van into the alley behind the club and parked. I opened the door and slid painfully out. Then I went around to the other side to unload the animals. Nicky started straining on his leash, eager to jump out and start exploring. "No, you don't." I muttered as I unfastened Fifi's carrier and lifted the little black skunk out. "I'm not letting you out of this van until I'm sure you won't take off on me. There. Now for you." I finished fastening Fifi's leash to her lilac collar and put her back into her carrier before I grabbed Nicky's harness and prepared for the battle stuffing him into it always was. "Okay. In we go." I grumbled fifteen minutes latter as I lifted Fifi and Nicky down from the van and then picked up Janey's carrier. There was no way she would be caught dead on a leash. As I struggled towards the door trying to manage the animals and my cane, I heard an annoyed meow from the carrier. "I'll get your luggage later." I reasured the cat. "There's no way I can manage bags and Nicky at once." I had just opened the back door when a piece of gravel landed under my foot and I crashed to the ground. I was able to hold on to Janey's carrier but I lost my grip on both leashes and Fifi and Nicky darted into the club. "Oh, no!" I moaned as I struggled to pull myself to my feet. My leg was throbbing like crazy but I had to catch my pets fast. For some reason, poor little Fifi tended to meet with hostile reactions. "We come in peace! I cried as I staggered in. Especially the skunk! Don't hurt them!" Chanda Keith ckeith@usit.net nicklovesjanette@hotmail.com Proud Ravenette and Immortal Beloved Our Dark Lady of Forever Knight http://www.usit.public.net/ckeith/Janette.html Propaganda-the statement of one view to the exclusion of all others. The purpose was not to enlighten but to emotionalize issues From - Sun Aug 15 17:40:42 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G7DY-0003cK-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 16:49:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4865; Sun, 15 Aug 99 16:47:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1603; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 16:47:14 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 16:43:40 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: Due North (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0b66e81120d96719122283524b7fe850 Time: Friday the 13th, early afternoon Place: Cousine Celeste's office at CERK Participants: Cousine Celeste and Gozer the Gozarian DUE NORTH (1/2) by Cousine Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Life was good. The Cousine was nicely relaxed, having spent last weekend at the Radisson in downtown Toronto at a Due South convention called RCW 149. She'd won the bids on several very cool charity-auction items, most of them "The One True Ray"-oriented, and was currently wearing one of the Sacred Vomitously-printed Silk Shirts that David Marciano had worn in her fav episode, A Hawk and A Handsaw. The Due South CD she'd won in one of the convention's contests, autographed by Paul Gross, was spinning in the CD drive of her Mac, filling the office with the beauty that was the music of the opening credits. Being an incorrigible filker, she sang her own words to the tune, making it up as she went along: "Vampires in Toronto will carry you away! Forever Knight's addictive, the fans are gonna play! You're usually in Boston, but you're only goin' one way! Due NORTH! That is where I'm goin', Due NORTH! Lacin' up my Gothy boots, Silver sword pins and black silk suits! Due NORTH! "Nick Knight seeks his humanity, but Uncle stomps him down! Now Nicky-boy's detectin', cleanin' up Toronto-town! And Uncle is a shock-jock with the coolest sound around-- Due CERK! That is where I'm hangin'! Due CERK! Leading Cousins is a pain, I'll never do that schtick again-- Dooo-ooooo CERK!" "Oooh, not too bad for an off-the-cuff filk; eh, Gozer-baby?" the Cousine glanced at the couch where a small cat-grin hung in the air over a pillow with a cat-shaped dent in it. The Everett-cat's answer was to reach down and lick one invisible paw with an insolent pink tongue. "Hmph! what do *you* know about the joy of filking, you're just a cat," muttered the Cousine, retaliating to the insult by ruffling up his invisible fur. Gozer chuffed in irritation, then set to putting his coat back in order, the tiny tongue flashing into and out of view as he worked. Life wasn't just *good*--life was GREAT! One of the station's interns had delivered her mail earlier in the day, she reached over and began opening it with a letter-opener that looked a lot like a big version of the pin Uncle perpetually wore on his lapel. Another intern, that nice young girl who really knew how the Cousine liked her coffee, had set a fresh pot of hazelnut brewing in the Braun, a clutch of chilled creamers in a bowl by the cups and napkins. And a third intern, a well-built Communications major from Toronto U, was tapping on her door, the lamb-kin. "Celeste? A couple of boxes were just sent over for you and Lisa Prince from CopyCop. Where do you want us to put 'em?" he asked. Gee, but Canadian interns were sweet. Soon a brace of interns were wrestling three large boxes into a corner in her office, much to the Cousine's joy. "Lisa! Lisa, sweetie-darling; getcher butt down here! They've come! There're here!!!" Celeste barked into the phone. Cousin Lisa was upstairs, having commandeered one of the better bedrooms on the Cousins' floor when she'd reached Toronto earlier in the week. * * * TO BE CONTINUED ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Sun Aug 15 17:40:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G7Lq-0003L5-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 16:57:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2742; Sun, 15 Aug 99 16:55:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2180; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 16:55:52 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 16:55:52 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War: Knighties: Iron Knight Part One To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1577900ca4cab22d494cadd4d1d3c141 F Iron Knighties Part One By Knightie katrinka Chris the Knight Nurse,Zoe, Mindy used with permission 8-15-99 8:30 am "Are you sure he should be watching that?" Zoe asked, pointing to the TV. Katrinka glanced across the room. Nick Knight was watching the show "Iron Chef" on the Asian channel. A challenger challenged one of four Iron Chef's to a duel of cooking. The two then spent an hour cooking in a duel of food. The winner would get fame, but no money. Nick seemed fascinated by the show. Watching with rapt attention. If Katrinka didn't know better, she would say that Nick was falling in love with the show. During the time, several Knighties tried to talk to him, but he just waved them away. "Later!" The only break Nick took where during the first commercial when he made a phone call. Katrinka couldn't over hear Nick talking about 'stoves' and 'tables' "Katrinka!" Zoe said again. "He shouldn't be watching that show!" "Why not? It's a good show. One of my favorites." she shrugged. "But it involves food!" she almost wailed. "Look what he did at breakfast!" "Kat knows what he did, she was there." The fiery red-head Mindy reminded her. "He's going to get sick from eating so much." "Watching and eating are two different things." Katrinka smiled. "Not for him!" As the show ended, the doorbell rang. Nick jumped up, looking at the intercom screen. "Nick Knight." A man looked at Nick through the intercom. "Speedy Delivery. I have three ovens and tables to deliver to this loft." "Come on up. You can use the service elevator." Nick went by Mindy, touching her shoulder. "Let them in." Nick went into the kitchen and began to pull things out of the cabinets. Flour, sugar, and other things. At the same time, the first deliver brought a stove in. She took it to the nearest outlet and hooked it up. The second put a large table beside the stove. They left, and repeated the sequence twice more. Knight Nurse Chris came down the steps. She looked around, still bleary-eyed. "Umm, when did the loft turn into one large kitchen?" "Since Nick discovered food." Mindy sighed. "Nick discovered food?" She watched as Nick began to heap packages of ingredients onto each table. "He's been a vampire for centuries. I think he wants to make up for lost time." "It's all Katrinka's fault! She let him watch a cooking show!" Zoe accused. "It's not my fault!" Katrinka stood up to her full hight of five feet. "I didn't expect Nick to go bonkers!" "You fed him!" Zoe's eyes flashed. "He was hungry! I couldn't let him starve!" "You didn't have to turn him into a food junkie!" Zoe's voice raised, everyone in the loft looked at the two woman. "He's not a junkie! He's simply exploring something new!" "If he keeps eating at this rate, he's going to need to go on a diet!" Mindy stood between the two Knighties. "Calm down both of you! I'm sure Nick has some kind of plan." "Yeah, sure, whatever." Zoe muttered as she watched Nick running around the loft preparing for his plan. Then Nick turned to the four women. He broke into a large grin. "Just what I need." "What?" Chris asked. Nick went to them, putting an arm around Zoe and Mindy. "I need some Iron Chefs." "You want us to find some?" Mindy asked. "Not exactly." "Then what exactly?" Knight Nurse Chris asked. "The four of you will be my Iron Chefs." "But I can't cook!" Zoe protested. "Your just being modest. I am sure you can cook wonderfully." Nick pulled Zoe and Mindy to a stove. "This will be your stove, Zoe." "My cooking's dangerous!" "It can't be that bad!" Nick kissed her on the cheek and left her. "When do we start cooking?" Mindy asked as she was taken to another stove. "We'll start the competition in a few minutes. Just have to find some judges." Nick began to look around the loft with child-like anticipation. --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- ONElist now has T-SHIRTS! For details and to order, go to: http://www.onelist.com/store/tshirts.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------ From - Sun Aug 15 17:40:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G7Pm-0003S6-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:02:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4935; Sun, 15 Aug 99 16:59:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2489; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 16:59:55 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:02:33 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: War: Cousins LCL: We're LATE! (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7cf441ae4981a7e4464cedab13d19352 Title: Cousins LCL: We're LATE! (1/1) Date: Saturday, August 14th Time: Around 9pm Just after "War: Cuz: Phobia Frenzy" Just before "WAR: CUZ: Meeting of Cousinly minds" Place: CERK "There you are," Arletta said emerging from the room she shared with Shelley at CERK. "I was wondering if you were going to make it back in time. There's a Cousins meeting. Brandi and Annette said they'd save seats for us." Arletta paused, seeming to notice Shelley's prone position for the first time. "Umm ... why are you lying on the floor?" Shelley, speechless after her encounter with the Cousinly Critters, just gave her a dirty look. From - Sun Aug 15 17:40:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G7Tq-0002qA-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:06:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2812; Sun, 15 Aug 99 17:03:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2869; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:03:44 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:05:27 EDT Reply-To: Ccfrn1@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Forward Subject: Re: WAR: Knighties: This Little Light of Mine To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cc1e139222423e09fa57f6c1b05b2f8a This Little Light of Mine by The Knight Nurse Time: late Saturday afternoon Place: the Loft With permission from the named Knighties. Sam is mine, and he'll do whatever I want! Chris, the Knight Nurse, boarded the freight elevator that led to Nick's loft. As the doors glided open, she saw Knighties everywhere. Some were renewing old acquaintances, others were new to the loft, exploring every corner with fascination. Spotting veterans Nancy, Jenn, and Chris, there soon ensued much screaming and hugging and jumping up and down. Eowyn, Gemsong, and Michele contributed to the fray, and then began introductions to some of the new faces. "Where's Katrinka?" asked Chris, looking around. "Food shopping - with the Knightie credit card and the Caddy!" answered Nancy. "Wow, sorry I missed that! We'll eat well, anyway! So what's this about a war, and what the heck happened to the skylight?" Chris was peering heavenward at a gathering thunderstorm. "Dunno exactly, but it has to do with Nick's problems, and why we're here," Gemsong offered. "We're working on securing the loft from electronic eavesdroppers again, but we don't even know for sure what the problem is, or what we can do to help." "Well, the first thing we can do is fix that skylight before it rains" the Knight Nurse suggested. How do we find somebody that can get over here quickly? Beth whipped out her cell phone to call information - "Hmm: 'no service'." "Nancy's done bang-up job with the security, I see!" "Thanks," nodded Nancy with a slight bow. "It's a work in progress. We could put out a call on my ham radio, but we'd have to go up on the roof." "Wait!" cried Chris. "Check this out - Nick has Sam's Skylight Repair on speed dial!" Moments later, Sam was assuring the Knighties that he would be right over, even though it was a weekend. "Nah, don't worry about a credit card," Sam assured them. "Nick has a running account with us!" "We'll need some volunteers to watch Sam to make sure he's not planting any bugs while he works", mused the Knight Nurse. "Uh, hel-LO?" She felt a little like the little red hen - suddenly everybody had other interests at heart. As Sam's truck pulled up outside and a lean and muscular man with a toolbelt emerged, Michele jumped toward the elevator. "I'll help out! Can't be too careful, y'know!" Eowyn was now glued to her side: "I'll watch from above." Each took a burly arm and led Sam to the skylight, and watched him faithfully until the job was done satisfactorily to the last detail. finis From - Sun Aug 15 17:40:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G7Zw-0003q2-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:12:32 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5006; Sun, 15 Aug 99 17:10:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3299; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:10:20 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 21:12:12 GMT Reply-To: "Mildred G. Cady" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Mildred G. Cady" Subject: WAR: A request to posters (not a story) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cb5b968f1d6f3d0a6a7468f96e392c2f Please, please, please.... Make sure you put the faction your in/writing for in the Subject header. example- Subject: WAR: MERC: Standstill not just- Subject: WAR: Standstill This makes it easier for everyone to keep track of which posts belong to which faction/storylines Thanks in advance ~Mildred G. Cady~ Merc Mommy General and Computer Genius _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sun Aug 15 17:40:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G7rZ-0004R9-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:30:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2918; Sun, 15 Aug 99 17:28:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4250; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:28:37 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 16:30:26 -0500 Reply-To: litemoon@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Prince Subject: WAR: CUZ: Due North (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 90c23e587722cbb7b5d3a54f7dc796f7 WAR: Due North (2/2) Time: Friday the 13th, early afternoon Place: Cousine Celeste's office at CERK Participants: Cousine Celeste, Cousin Lisa, Cousin Becky, and Gozer the Gozarian DUE NORTH (2/2) by Cousin Lisa Prince and Cousine Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Cousin Lisa sauntered into Cousine Celeste's office. She was dressed in a stylish black leather mini-skirt and a white silk poet's shirt that wasn't tucked in. She and Celeste prided themselves in being among the best-dressed among the Cousins... usually. You could say they were Cousins with Ravenly Leanings. Lisa's saunter was interrupted when she noticed what Celeste was wearing: true, the shirt *was* silk, but the Cousin had never seen silk dyed quite those colors before, in fact she wasn't sure it was legal to have some of the afore-mentioned colors sitting next to one another on a piece of fabric--hadn't there been a law passed some time in the early 80's? Lisa watched the garishly-dressed Cousine as she made an attempt to open the delivery from CopyCop. It appeared that Celeste had been working at it for a while because she was currently hacking away at one of the boxes with a machete like Norman Bates at a shower curtain. So, in addition to wearing a shirt that could cause seizures if one were to look at it for too long, her hair appeared to be possessed by the spirit of Medusa with PMS. Lisa stood in the doorway contemplating the scene before her and wondered if she should just head on back to her room and continue watching her special compilation of LaCroix fang scenes. After blinking a few more times, she decided to get involved. "Celeste?" Lisa called. "You need some help there?" Celeste whirled around with the machete held high, her face contorted with glee and adrenaline, and said, "I'm having a GREAT day. Nothing quite like hacking at boxes to burn off that aggression. Hey, ya like my shirt? I was just at RCW 149 last weekend and it was sooo cool. I bid and won a bunch of stuff at auction. The other bidders were pathetic, I just quietly and with great dignity jumped 'em up by double every time one of them dared open her mouth. They were terrified of me. It was *great*." "Okayyyyy," Lisa said wondering if Celeste had been spending too much time with a group of Perks. "Celeste, has Uncle seen what you're wearing?" "No, why?" she asked. "Do you think he'll want one? I actually got another one, from a second-season episode... oooh, Uncle in The One True Ray's shirt! It would be like a cross-universe story! I hate to give up my shirt, though." "I don't think that's going to be a problem," Lisa replied while attempting to prevent the image of Uncle in those colors from coming all the way into her head. It was a failed attempt, unfortunately, and she had to allow the shiver of horror to run from the tips of her toes and up her back as the vision of LaCroix in one of those shirts took up permanent residence in her mind. With a vigorous shake of her head, Lisa moved the image to the recesses of her imagination where it would have the opportunity to pop up again at the most inconvenient of times. She decided, with a great deal of wishful thinking, that her fellow Cousin was still stuck in Due South land and would be sufficiently Cousinely in a few more hours. "So, how many have we got?" Lisa asked as she walked over to help open the delivery. ******** "Two-hundred shiny new copies Toujours LaCroix zines, just like we ordered," Celeste's disembodied voice said from behind a pile of zines. "How many orders do we have?" "... ... ...." "Lisa...? ...*Lisa*...? ...LISA!!!!" "What? What?" Lisa asked vaguely. "I said... how many orders do we have?" "Wait a minute, I'm in a great spot," she replied. From where she lounged on the couch surrounded by stacks of zines, Lisa waved a dismissive hand in Celeste's general direction. "I thought you'd *read* all the stories in the zine already. I mean, you edited and published the damned thing. It took you more than a year to get it done." "Not the zine. I found a bunch of new Nicolas Chevalier books in the bottom of the third box," Lisa replied. "I don't know why they keep appearing everywhere. You know, I kind of miss having him around. He made life really interesting for a while there. Listen to this.... "The Love of Bunny and Capon by Nicolas Chevalier... Capon blinked at Bunny with a look of pure love. Theirs was a love unmatched in time, unfettered by societal restraint, unmarred by doubt or fear. He loved this woman, adored this goddess, gloried in the rapture of this Venus, basked in the light of this Aphrodite He reached up and caressed her glowing, blushing, radiating face...." "STOP!!" Celeste shouted. "I haven't eaten all day and I still feel like puking. Besides, I'm getting an image of Fabio in that Tarzan, I Can't Believe It's Not Butter commercial." At that moment, Gozer's head appeared, hovering on top of a stack of zines and added his discontent to his human's by blowing a raspberry in Lisa's direction. Lisa gave the cat a look of disdain and said to Celeste, "Tell Houdini, the amazing, disappearing cat that I don't need his critique. And could you get that cat to keep his fur off our zines? People have paid for those, you know. By the way, he *is* house trained, isn't he?" 'She'll pay for that. Oh, yes, she'll pay for that. House-trained indeed. Humph.' Gozer thought as he started to fade out of existence. "Shhh," Celeste said with trepidation. "Never piss off a cat." She glanced in Gozer's direction and saw the look of annoyance on the little cat's face before he disappeared completely and said, "Oh, you're in trouble now. He's pissed." "Oh, I'm shaking. A mad, kittie cat is going to come get me. Who does he think he is? LaCroix? Anyway, as I was saying, I think Nicolas Chevalier's writing is getting a little better," Lisa replied. "He's certainly getting a bit more risque. Listen to this...." Celeste groaned in pain as Lisa began reading yet again. "Capon gently pushed, pressed and pulled the strap of Bunny's carmel-colored cotton camisol off her sensuous, sexy shoulder while carefully, caressingly kissing her long, lithe, lovely neck...." "PUT THE BOOK DOWN AND STEP AWAY FROM THE BOX," Celeste ordered in her most Uncle-like voice while brandishing the machete. "All right, all right," Lisa said with a chuckle. "Maybe his writing is still a bit...overdone." "I think I'm going to have to toss out the TLCs that were sitting directly on those books for fear of contamination." She picked up a zine and experimentally sniffed it. **Knock::Knock** "Someone's at the door," Lisa said in her best impression of Marley from American Gothic--the latest of her favorite television shows to be canceled. Celeste gave Lisa a look that spoke volumes. "Enter freely and of your own free will," she intoned. "Hi, guys," said Cousin Becky, used to the Cousine's usual drama- queenliness. "I'm supposed to tell you that there's a party tonight at the Raven if you're interested in... Hey, what's *that*?" Cousin Becky asked when she caught sight of the zine in Cousine Celeste's hands. A pensive uncle in pen-and-ink stared up boldly at her. Her eyes began to glaze over, her lips parted and she got that hungry for Uncle look that only a true Cousin could have. "It's nothing," Lisa and Celeste replied in unison. Celeste quickly hid the zine she was holding behind her back and Lisa tried, rather unsuccessfully, to shield the piles of zines from their fellow Cousin. "It looks like a picture of LaCroix on the cover of a fanzine," she said excitedly. "'Toujours LaCroix'? Are they for us!?" she fairly bounced. "I'll go tell the others about it," she said as she ran out the door in excitement. Lisa and Celeste looked at each other briefly, then locked the office door and started packing up the zines in order to find a good hiding place for them. TO BE CONTINUED **************** Cousin Lisa litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Sun Aug 15 17:40:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G7uS-0004WL-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:33:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2927; Sun, 15 Aug 99 17:31:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4356; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:31:37 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 06:32:59 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcements: What you don't know CAN hurt you. To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4a81464754776ef1c0c2baff99f1a0b0 Captain Raven, leader of the Enforcements, stared at her computer screen with an incredulous look. 738 messages. She must remember never to take a vacation so close to the war. Her baggage sat unopened near the door, hastily put there while she ran for war information. The war had started when she was still on the plane. She sighed. It was going to be a long night. She heard a groan from the next office, the Man in Black's office. A look of concern flashed across her face. The man everyone called the Man in Black, or Shadowman, was actually an Enforcer, one who ran the Toronto HQ. No one knew his real name. All the best mortal troops that served the Enforcers, called the Enforcements, had been transferred to Toronto for the duration of the war. Everyone else was in already, some having attended the party at the Raven and been largely ignored. The Captain smiled. It was all going according to plan. The moan turned ugly. Tentativly, the Captain moved toward the unlighted office. She fumbled for the light switch and was shocked at what was revealed. The man in black, the mighty Enforcer, was eating Enid's leftover hotwings. He moaned again, in pleasure. Something was *definately* wrong. According to any research she had done, vampires did not sit on rugs and eat hot wings out of the refrigerator and moan with delight. Thinking maybe her jetlag was getting to her, she went back into her office and shut the door to block out the noise. The HQ was silent otherwise. The offices all stood empty, most of the enforcements at their assigned posts. Only a small light was seen from Cousin Mary's office. The captain smiled. She would be smuggling out equipment tonight for her own DP faction. Such was the fate of a new faction. Some of the best troop's loyalties were elsewhere. She sighed and sat down at her computer. <"Just what the world needs, more email!"> The captain scanned the messages stopping at one that appeared hastily thrown together. She smiled as she ran the de-encryptor. ================= From: Lt. Steve; Lt. Enid To: Captain Raven Subject: Chaos All the Vampires 100 mile radius of HQ are now Mortal. Please advise. Will watch all subjects, unknown course of action. Waiting, S, E =================== The Captain stared at the email. The vampires were mortal? Why, of course, that would explain the normally reserved Shadowman's outrageous behavior. She decided to order him a pizza just before she left. What could cause this? The Captain wondered. And what could she do about it? The code itself was in jeopardy. She must find out what happened. ==================== Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Sun Aug 15 17:41:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G80d-0004m8-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:40:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5113; Sun, 15 Aug 99 17:38:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4677; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:38:01 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 15:42:30 -0600 Reply-To: "K. Astop" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "K. Astop" Subject: WAR: Knighties: Fixing a Hole To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: db2b1f90b9a3eeb15a89e0503ce6e2b7 Author: Katrinka Fixing A Hole Time: Right After Iron Knighties about 11 am Zoe, Tina and Eowyn used with permission. Was Zoe ever going to stop crying? Katrinka wondered. It had been an accident, but the Knightie couldn't forgive herself. A hole, there was a hole in the loft. Every time Zoe looked at it, she began to sob again. Eowyn looked at Katrinka with wide eyes. "How are we going to fix that?" "It's going to cost Nick a ton!" Tina said. Katrinka had flashes of her father. When she was much younger, his favorite thing in the world was to say "Put your shoes on!" Then Katrinka would spend a lovely afternoon helping her father remodel the house. "I suppose I better call someone to fix it." Eowyn sighed. "Does Nick have any plywood?" Katrinka asked. "Why would he have plywood?" Tina asked. "We could check the basement, why?" Eowyn asked. "I thought I could nail a sheet of plywood onto the floor, then put a carpet and a table on top of that." "Would that be safe?" "If no one moved the table it would be." "Then we better get to work." Tina said. ****************** They went downstairs. As they looked around, Katrinka wondered if Nick had kept everything he ever owned in this place. There was antique furniture being stored. Boxes upon boxes of things filled the basement. The strange feeling that haunted Katrinka earlier washed over her. Something was going on. There was a box that almost cried out to her. It had the name Zandor Bodenskya written on it.Katrinka felt herself being drawn to the box. She reached out for the box, opening it. The box was filled with photos. Katrinka took out one. A man with dark blue eyes looked at her from the photo. A shudder went through her. "Whose that?" Eowyn looked over her shoulder. "Zandor Bodenskya, he's an old friend of Nicks. A very old friend." "How do you know that? He wasn't in the series." "I know that. But I wrote a fanfic story with him." She took out several more photos. His grandson Brendan, the grandson's lover. Zandor's brothers Radu and Vlad. "They are real. I only thought I had dreamed about them." "You should tell Nick you found this." Tina suggested. "No!" Both Eowyn and Katrinka said at the same time. "Why can't we tell him?" Tina demanded. "Perhaps it could help him solve the puzzle." "Zandor and his ilk are a different type of Vampire. They might not have fallen under this curse." Katrinka said. "I don't even know where they are." "Besides, we should be helping Nick, not trying to find other vampires." Eowyn began to search for plywood. Katrinka put the photos away. No one noticed when Katrinka took a small photo of Zandor and his family. ***************** A few minutes later, the three came back upstairs. Katrinka and Eowyn carried a large sheet of plywood. Tina carried a tool box. They set the plywood on top of the hole. It fit as if it where made for the hole. Katrinka quickly nailed the hole down. They then got a rug and threw it across the plywood. They then shoved one of Nick's tables on top of it. Tina made a sign warning of the hole, and put it on top of the table. Katrinka went off to find Zoe and see if she needed help cleaning up the mess she made. Katrinka@flash.net Always two there are...no more...no less. A master and an apprentice." Visit My Sentai/Anime Trading Page! http://members.tripod.com/~katrinkak/sentai.html my homepage: http://members.tripod.com/~katrinkak/index.html From - Sun Aug 15 17:40:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G7RN-00045n-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:03:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2790; Sun, 15 Aug 99 17:01:22 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2627; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:01:22 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:01:21 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War; Knighties: Iron Knight (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 185658c7db7d4c568fd24166a8ca2a83 Iron Knight Part two Katrinka looked at the table that she had been shoved behind. It was filled with pots, pans, bowls. The ingredients seemed to have been picked out at random. She noticed three types of chili power, and coffee. She couldn't help but smile as she saw curry. Nick had put on a tuxedo. Eowyn was acting as the head judge. She turned to the judge beside her. "I wonder when we get some cookies?" "As soon as they get out of the oven?" Gemsong sat at a table with the Judges. She said in hushed tones. "Welcome friends. Today you will watch four of our group in heated battle against each other. The hour of competition had finally arrived. Now the Iron Chefs stand in anticipation for their assignments." Nick walked to a table that was covered with a tablecloth. There where lumps underneath the cloth. He smiled at the group of Knighties. "Today the food of choice is." He threw off the cover. "Chocolate!" Katrinka grabbed a cookie tray and ran to the table, taking off several packages of chocolate. There was dark chocolate, white chocolate, chunks, chips. "Katrinka! What are you doing?" Zoe hissed. "On the show you have to go and get the main ingredient." she told the other cooks. Knight Nurse Chris and Mindy grabbed a cookie tray and joined Katrinka at the table. With a sigh, Zoe got her chocolate. "Remember, the competitors only have an hour to create at least four cookie variations." Nick announced. "Do we have a recipe?" Mindy asked. "Do you need one?" "Yes!" All four cooks said at the same time. "There should be cookie recipes on the back of the chocolate packets." Nick told them. Each of the cooks checked the packets. "You are not allowed to just use the recipe on the back. You must make a variation of it." "Do something different." Knight Nurse Chris guessed. "Exactly." Nick smiled again. Tine, who was acting as Katrinka's helper took the chocolate from her. "What do we do first?" "Heat the oven!" She said turning it on. Cookies where relatively easy to create. That was, if everyone wasn't watching her cook. Eowyn seemed to take an express interest in the cooking. Katrinka knew her friend loved cookies, but couldn't she wait? "Variations," she repeated to herself. She looked over the table. Katrinka could remember a designer cookie book, they had a recipe where they used curry power. She added two teaspoons to the mix. Tina grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?" "Making cookies." "With CURRY?!!??!!?" Katrinka took a spoon, filled it with dough, and held it u p to the assistant. "Try it!" With some reluctance, Tina tried the dough. "That's good!" "So I'm not nuts," Katrinka smiled. "Oh, just your usual insanity!" Tina began to prepare the cookie sheets. In another kitchen area Zoe was chanting "I won't blow up the kitchen, I won't blow up the kitchen." Zoe didn't know why she always ended up blowing up something with her cooking. It wasn't like she did it intently! She had been banned from cooking almost everywhere she had cooked. It wasn't fair. Someday she wouldn't blow something up! She just needed ractice. Her assistant worked hard with helping her, but she had a sneaking suspicion that something was going to happen. Something just didn't feel right. The first batch of cookies cooked without any trouble. They didn't burn, they didn't blow up. In a small way, that was a success. As soon as the first batch came out of the oven. Nick came over and grabbed a still hot cookie. He ate a bite. Then with much effort, he swallowed. Finally he gasped. "Chewy, very chewy." "Thank you, Nick." Zoe smiled inwardly, glad at least that the cookies could be swallowed. Nick went to Gemsong, who gave him a glass of water. He drank the entire thing. As soon as he finished, there was ding of another timer. Nick went to Mindy's table, and grabbed a hot cookie. He took a bite. "Mindy! This is wonderful! If I could give out the prize, you would get it." "Thank you," Mindy blushed to the tips of her auburn hair. Just then another timer went off. He ran to Knight Nurse Chris's table. Without asking, he grabbed a cookie. He smiled as he took a bite. "This is even better then the last! I didn't realize cookies where so good!" As the hour passed, Nick spent his time going from oven to oven, tasting the fresh cookies. He even had the courage to taste Zoe's. Each batch had the same complement. "Chewy." Katrinka and Tina worked hard on their designer batches. Chocolate cookies with coffee, Chocolate cookies with chili powder. Cookies with four chocolates, cookies with nuts and tons of chocolates. Curry chocolate cookies. Finally Gemsong stood up. "The hour is over!" "It is?" Nick seemed disappointed. "No more tasting?" "You can taste some more during judging." Gemsong smiled. Roz stood up. "Can the contestants bring a sample of each batch to the judge's table?" One by one, the contestants brought their cookies to the judges. Each was tasted, and commented by them. Until the only one left was Zoe. She was afraid to bring her cookies to the table. "Zoe, it's your turn." Nick prompted. Zoe nodded, then she loaded a tray with all the cookies she had made. Perhaps one would be tasty. She hoped. She walked to the judges table. Trying hard to see over the plate of cookies. She tripped over something on the floor. Zoe found herself falling The cookies landed about a meter from Nick. As they landed, the cookies blew up! The room filled with smoke. "Open the windows!" Roz ordered. Eowyn grabbed a fire extinguisher. She covered the area of the explosion with a fine foam. As the smoke cleared. The Knighties realized something. Nick was no where to be found. There was a large hole in the floor where the former vampire had been standing. Tentivily Katrinka looked into the hole, expecting to see a serious injured Nick. Nick was laying on a pile of mattresses. His head was cut and bleeding. "Chris! Nick's been hurt!" Katrinka's former nurse instincts came to fore. She ran towards the stairs. Followed by Chris. They found a stunned Nick sitting up, touching the cut on his forehead. "I'm bleeding." "We can take care of it." Chris opened her first aid kit. She put on gloves and took out some gauze. Then she began to whip the blood off his forehead. "I'm bleeding." He sounded stunned. "I'm not supposed to bleed." "Your human now." Katrinka reminded him. "Human's bleed." Chris used some steri-strips to seal his wound together. Then she bandaged the wound. She checked him for concussion. "You'll be fine. Just a cut." "The next time Zoe tells me she can't cook. Remind me to believe her." Nick told them. From - Mon Aug 16 00:56:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G8Go-0005rf-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:56:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5187; Sun, 15 Aug 99 17:54:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5457; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:54:41 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 14:57:18 -0700 Reply-To: "Shana N." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Shana N." Subject: WAR: DP: Indiana Janes and the Temple of NA To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 32d2928bbec708cc650b67e0e134ec6d *************** WAR: DP: "Indiana Janes and the Temple of NA" (01/01) Time: Sunday, 6am (), post "You & Me & the Powder Make 3 Tonight" Place: NA Shrine, Raven by: Shana Nolan All persons used with permission. **************** A whimper from the back set floated up from the back seat of the Taurus. "For the last time, you two, stop whining. Yes, I know the sun is rising and yes, I know we should all be asleep, but you're the ones who woke me up and made me drive." Regarding the faction figurehead with surrendered sighs, Mary, DP Godmother and Shana, DP Angel, exchanged glances. "Well, she did steal the tapestry... " Tracy growled and shook her head, trying to fight down the headache she still had. Sure, the coffee had helped and sure, the inane amount of aspirin was dulling the ache that was her memory of the Raven party, but still. *Six* AM. Not six PM, *six* *AM.* "Where did you say you got the warrant again?" Mary pulled it out of her purse, holding it up for the tenth time. "You're a cop, we're your faction, we have connections." Shana tried to smile, but it turned quickly to a yawn. "And we have handcuffs." The blonde cop focused her eyes on the road, squinting even through her dark glasses. Sunlight was so overrated, she found it amazing that she had ever done anything but the night shift. "Geez, Shana, you haven't given those cuffs back yet?" "I earned them fair and square last war." "You stole them while I was convincing the RCMP to not press charges on you." Mary shrugged at her fellow thug. Tracy had a point. "And I suppose you want all the other neat stuff from last war returned too, eh?" There was a pause from the front seat. Scratching her head, the homicide cop shrugged. "Whatever, okay. Keep the cuffs. And... we're here." Sliding out of the car, Mary shook off her Godmother self, running a hand through her blonde hair, looking at the building before her. The Shrine. "Gee, I think it's seen better days." The other two sidled up behind her, Shana yawning again. "Sheesh, no roof. Suddenly bleeding walls and jell-o basements are all the more appealing." Tracy nodded and gestured for the warrant, her free hand sliding to her service piece. "Tracy?!" The cop's gaze was surprised. "What?" Mary crossed her arms, worried. "We're arresting her, not shooting her." "But this is a vampire place." "And the vamps are all mortal, not that a gun would stop them in fang mode." Shana offered helpfully. (You sleep next to the Ballroom of Doom and stay naive about weaponry. ;-) ) Tracy shrugged, a scowl on her face as she felt the caffeine content of her blood dropping. "I s'pose. Let's get this over with, I have a bed calling my name." * * * Getting inside was fairly easy, but the two DP and Tracy were having a heck of a time slipping past all the redecoration mess and sleeping bodies. Apparently, the bedrooms were unoccupiable at the moment, and like most sane FK fans, the Addicts were sound asleep as the sun was cresting the sky. Mary's foot ran into a container of grouting, the Thug covering her mouth as she mumbled a few non-PG-13 words. Tracy's head snapped around. "Ssshhh." Mary threw her hands up and pointed to the offending grout container. Off to the side a bit, her auburn hair pulled out of her face with a dark pink scrunchie so she could search for the offending Addict, Shana froze when she caught movement. A cat meandered across the floor. Shana grinned through her teeth and petted it, trying to keep it quiet. Pointing suddenly, Mary reached down, pulling a camo book bag out from underneath a small heap, opening the bag just a bit. Just enough to reveal the corner of the up-until-now missing Tapestry. Slipping away from the feline, Shana stood next to the Godmother. "Um, its intact, right?" Mary nodded. "It better be." "But how'd it fit into such a small bag?" Circling around, Tracy gave her Thugs a look. "Does anyone smell cheese or is it just me?" And that was when Evil Cousin Tiff, scourge of the Tapestry thieves woke up. "What in the name of Nunkies ba-- " Tracy covered the girl's mouth, trying to *not* wake up the other Addicts. "Tiffiney Petherbridge, you are under arrest for the theft of the Nunkies in Repose Tapestry, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say and do can be used against you in a court of law.... " Mary tapped the detective's shoulder. "Um, Tracy, why are you Mirandising her?" Shana whispered, "What about Miranda?" The blondes gave her a look, silencing the DP Angel. "This *is* Canada, yeah?" Tracy huffed, "No, we're in Gainesville, Florida." "We're in Florida?" was Tiff's bewildered question. Resisting the urge to the assembled peanut gallery, Tracy helped Tiff stand up, slapped on the handcuffs and began to guide the Addict from the Shrine, Shana in tow with the Tapestry. Lingering a few minutes behind them, Mary set an official copy of the arrest warrant on Tiff's now unoccupied pillow. Making it past the unstirring sea of NAers once more, slipping through the door, Mary and Shana froze as three guys looking suspiciously like members of a boyband crossed their path to the Taurus. "What'cha guys doin?" "She's, like, with us." "Yeah." Closing the door to the Shrine, now able to make noise if they wanted to, the DP Thugs exchanged glances. Pushing Tiff into the back seat of her "screaming fun ride," Tracy looked over her shoulder, an "oh, no" crossing her lips as she watched her Thugs and the boyband do their FK war impression of West Side Story. "Dark pink? Whassup with that?" "Oh, and I suppose close harmony singing is 'phat?'" "Yeah, man." Tracy crossed her arms. "'Fat?'" Mary leaned back. "P-H-A-T, Trace, it means 'hot' or some such nonsense." The blonde detective still didn't look pleased. Mary and Shana quickly summed up the situation. Leave them be to cause trouble or take them in with Tiff. Dark Perk instincts yowling for a good tangle, they shrugged and yelled "Get them!" A bizarre fight thus ensued, Tracy and Tiff shaking their heads as they watched. "Oof!" "Like, ow!" "Hey!" "Dude!" "Hey!! Ow! New tat!" "Du-ude!" "Ow! Ow! Piercing!" "Like, yow!" A few Batminutes later, the boyband in a messy heap on the ground, the Thugs gingerly checking their new body art, Tracy stepped in and gave Mary a stare. Mary gulped. "Are we going to take them in or would you two like to break out the chocolate pudding?" An evil glint passed over the Godmother's eyes. "No, no, nevermind, we'll, uh, toss them in the trunk." Brushing off dirt and hair gel, the DP Angel picked an earring stud out of her now mussed hair, grinning. "We shoulda brought the Caddy." "Oh, well," Mary grinned back. "Hiya Tiff, shouldn't have filched the Tapestry, huh?" The Addict chewed on her lip. "Or not have gotten caught." "Let's go ladies!" Tracy slammed the trunk closed, walked around the car and slid into the driver's seat. The Thugs nodded to each other, a plan forming in their dark pink minds. "Trace, can we have some coffee after we book them?" * * * Three cups of super tall frappuchinas (well, you knew I couldn't steal the name ;-) ) later, Tracy, Mary and Shana were standing back in the Raven, regarding the restored artwork once more hanging over the bar. "Nice job, Thugs." Mary grinned. "And putting it under Popemobile grade glass was a great idea." "Yup," Shana agreed, sipping her super tall caramel frappuchina. "Hmmm... does this mean we have a new name for the tapestry?" Tracy raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" Mary grinned, suppressing her normal dislike for Lacroix's nickname. "Nunkies Under Glass!" ***************************** Shana, dpangel@thegrid.net the Darth Perk Angel, DP 2nd in Command From - Mon Aug 16 00:57:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G9QI-0000Bl-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 19:10:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3261; Sun, 15 Aug 99 19:08:35 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8895; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 19:08:35 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 19:03:45 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: War: DP: Party Flashbacking To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bcf33fb77ac0b9b07e529dbb766b04c3 Saturday, August 14, 12:--pm "What was I thinking last night." Martin attempts to open gummy eyes and look blurrily at his room, which is a good sized room to him. But thinking back, he realizes it would have been one thing to go to the Ravenette Party, drink, and haze out or vibrate on caffine for a week. But instead he was a designated driver for the DP's. Martin assumes a dazed expression as the memories come back to him in a convienent flashback. *Flashback* Friday Night On the Way to the Ravenette Party Martin's truck had one advantage that even though it was old, it had room for five people, if they sit very snugly, and a large truck bed. So he ends up driving on the way there and says brightly, because he had just gotten enough sleep and lots of coffee from the perfect bean, "Guys, I'll be the driver after the party." The looks of horror and pity that he gets from the others are not encouraging. "What?" He sees the look on Eric's face as the only other man in the truck shakes his head frantically and mouths, "No." Martin also notices movement in the other cars behind him which contain the rest of the DPs and Tracy. Mary looks at the newbie to the war from her passenger seat and says, "Are you sure about that?" She, as well as the rest of the passengers, have been giving Martin directions to The Raven, and leaving him at times confused. Martin looks at Mary and decides hesitantly, "I guess so, Mary. As long as I am not the driver for the trip back from the Vaquero party, its a sacrifice I can make for tonight." His voice get more dramatic when the nervousness goes way. But he gets the feeling that the usual method of deciding who's the driver involves drawing straws to decide the victim. . .er volunteer for the job. The first part of the job was easy; drop the passengers off and find an empty parking place. Martin finds a well lit place about half a block from the Raven and quickly walks back to the Raven. His appearance, though slightly unusual for the party, helps him blend in well in the crowd. The black duster and jeans are fancier than what he is use too, but still quite casual . The dark pink shirt distinguishes him out as a DP and the infrequent flashes of his hidden sword doesn't allow him to blend in near perfectly. Martin wanders from group to group, participating in various faction conversations, and keeping a discrete eye on the rest of the DP's. He sees Janette and Tracy talking a man who is speaking in a french accent. From what Martin can tell from , he is apparently some kind of artist. (I'll have to find out what that is about later from Tracy.) The first casuality of the evening comes a couple of hours from their enterence into the party. Martin listens to the Enforcer's song and notices Maya weaving some though the crowd. He first thinks that she is simply going though the crowd but as the song comes to the close, he notes that she is weaving through an empty space and looks like she is trying to leave, or at least go outside. Gently grabbing Maya's arm, he guide her outside. Martin leaves her just inside, under the watchful eyes of the bouncer, and strict words to her not to move. He wades back into the Raven, looking for the others. Martin finds S.N.B. much in the same shape Maya's in and leads her gently to where he left Maya. He takes a moment to find the wandering DP and brings her back to the spot he had left her. He leaves them both with a bit of coffee and some snacks to hopefully sober them up some. "Now, stay there until you clear up some or I'll will take you back to the mansion. You really don't want me to do that." He gives a quick description of a wake up drink her would give them, which made with tabassco sauce, hot peppers, and other head clearing things. Both womem give quick nods agreeing to stay because of the promise Martin gives and he moves back into the crowd, hoping that the bouncer can keep them there, but having the feeling that he won't. After Martin asks a few people there was a chance he could lock some of the DPs into a closet or basement, and getting a no for an answer. He wryly thinks that maybe everyone he asks thinks he's from a faction that wants to attack the DPs. He continues to keep an eye on the DPs who came with him. Martin finds Eric and quickly leads him back to the others he gathered. He takes a few more trips back and forth, trying to make it perfectly reasonable to the three to stay in one place. Eventally his argument to stay, and several bribes later, they all stay in the place he told them. After a time later, he finds Mary, who is finishing off another cup of coffee at the bar. "Mary, would you like a ride back to the Mansion?" Martin asks quickly, checking to see how she is. The taller blond woman gives an answer so quickly that he misses it. He notes that there has to be another six or seven cups beside her, crumbs of something that smells sweet, and how she is vibrating slightly from a caffine and sugar rush. Martin hopes that was a yes and leads the slightly vibrating woman toward the door, giving noncommential answers and words when she is talking to him. The lack of drinking that night, avoiding caffine, and just drinking nonspiked fruit juice, leaves him unable to understand what she is saying in her hypercaffinated state. He says softly, "Comeon, the doors this way. Now we can stay for a while, as long as you have decaf." Mary gives him a look as though he said something dirty, and maybe he did. He leads her to the door, takes a while longer to round up the rest of the DPs and leads them in the direction of the truck. Martin opens the truck windows and helps all four of the DPs into the truck. "Now, if you feel the need to throw up, aim toward the windows and not the floor. I would like to be able to use my truck without having to seriously clean it out tomarrow. Am I clear, people?" Martin gets nods from all his passengers and quickly drives as smooth as he can, trying to keep them feeling from feeling too bad. There would be time for that tomarrow. He helps his passengers into the mansion, finds them all comfortable places in the living room, and goes to his room for lots of hours of sleep. *Back to the Present* Martin walks slowly down to where the DPs are slumbering and walks past without waking them up, though it is tempting. He goes to the kitchen and makes a large pot of quality coffee to wake up with. "What a night." But it is one he wouldn't have wanted to miss for the world. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 16 00:57:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GAck-0002rz-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 20:27:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5685; Sun, 15 Aug 99 20:25:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2335; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 20:25:31 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 19:25:55 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Williams Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Williams Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Interviewing for a Tour Guide (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c7a857e43b5427fbadbd9a52644fbc3c Title: Cousins LCL: Interviewing for a Tour Guide (1/2) Date: August 15, 1999 Time: Early Afternoon By Annette Williams with permission from all used. "Ok, so we need someone with experience as a tour guide," Shelley said. "And a little personality too," Brandi added. "Maybe with some enthusiasm. It makes people think they're really getting something." "They are getting something, a tour," Annette said dryly. "Look we have to agree on this otherwise we're going to be stuck giving the tours ourselves," Arletta said. "And speaking of giving tours...we received a complaint already." "Really! What for?" The 3 Light Cousins asked simultaneously. "It seems someone handed out copies of the brochure and let the visitors roam about on their own. Now who did that?" Arletta demanded. All three looked at each other then back at Arletta with blank stares. "Oh I see, no one huh?" Arletta said, quite annoyed. "Well it wasn't me," stated Brandi. "Of course not," said Shelley. "That's because you skipped out on your turn." "Those cats were chasing my ferrets," Brandi explained. "Were not!" "Were too." "Were not!" "GUYS!" said a frustrated Arletta. "Look, regardless, don't let that happen again. I had to refund their money. We need that money to run this place." "Yes, Arletta" the three others replied sheepishly. "Now, let's work out some questions for the interviewees." From - Mon Aug 16 00:57:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GBQP-0004k9-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 21:18:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7359; Sun, 15 Aug 99 21:16:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4318; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 21:16:50 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 19:04:17 -0600 Reply-To: Stormer Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stormer Subject: War: N&NPack: Birds of a Different Feather (Part 1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4679cea8aeccdc5bad05d9727b1c13c4 War: N&NPack: Birds of a Different Feather By Rogue Cousin Tammy Friday August 13: Just before and during the Raven's party(fashionably la= te of course) Part One of Two --------- After taking the new N&N warriors on a tour of the theatre, Rogue Cousin Tammy made herself comfortable setting up her digs in the old prop room. Setting out food for Sydney (the cat) and LaCroix (the ferret) and making sure the rose Natasha had given her, from the last war that she had been = in, was safe and sound, she settled down for a bit of a nap. After all, driv= ing from Edmonton on short notice, on a Ninja motorcycle with a cat, a ferret and survival gear for a war was a tiring thing and she still wasn't quite certain how she did it in under five hours. Her friends often joked that you could arrive before you left on one of those things, but that was onl= y to Calgary, not to Toronto. "Ah well," she thought as she placed her head down on the pillow, "It's o= ne of those FK war things=85 I'm surprised it took so long for alternate universe characters to show up in one of these. Wonder what kind of wierdness is going to happen this time=85 Maybe we'll all become vampires= like that story I wrote once and that twisted dream Casey and I had." As the thought drifted from her mind, she found herself asleep. "Hey sleepy, wake up" a familiar sounding voice called out. Tammy grumbled and rolled over to find herself facing Natalie lying on Nick's couch. "Why aren't you with the Natpack?" "Because I'm not Natalie, I'm 'Tasha' remember?" "I get it=85 I'm dreaming again. I thought you were satisfied when you t= old me a war was starting and you coerced me into going=85 Woke me up from a = damn fine sleep too=85" "Yes, I know=85 Bryan=85 Very nice but this is important." "I guess since you're sleeping with the ol' Knight in shining armour over there you may not need fantasy, but those of us who aren't=85" Natasha turned one of those patented 'enough already' Natalie glares on t= he Rogue Cousin and the human sighed and gave in. "Great a figment of my ov= er active imagination is now chastising me=85 Did someone brand Nick on my forehead here??" A spew of blood sprayed from the alternate Nick's mouth= as he started laughing. Natasha's nails clicked on the surface of the coffee table in front of th= e couch. "When you do that you remind me of Janette." Tammy noted. "Good, we're finally on topic=85 There's this Raven party you just have t= o go to. Meet Janette, you'll like her. Really=85" "I'm not so sure=85 Here it's not like she's your=85" "Tammy=85 Tammy=85 Amydrag=85 WAKE UP," Susan shook the dark N&Npacker's = shoulder. Tammy's eyes opened warily and sighed, "Let me guess, there's this party = at the Raven and as a dark representative of the N&Npack I was nominated to go." "How do you do that?" Susan B. looked at Tammy suspiciously, then eyed t= he ferret and the cat. "Let's just say a little vampire told me=85" Tammy stretched and went to = her carry all to find some clothes. "You know you pack like a Raven=85 You're a natural to go." Susan said ta= pping one foot. Tammy pulled out a white silk renaissance shirt, black leather britches w= ith a matching corset and boots then rose to go to the dressing rooms "Thanks Sus=85 Knight Nick says 'Hi'!" And she brushed past knowing the confusi= on she left in her wake. "Hey Tammy," called Michelle Loo just before she was about to enter the dressing room, "I know that look. You're up to something. Can I join in= ?" "I'm out to 'out Raven' the Ravens," Tammy held out her outfit in front o= f herself. "Nice=85 Butter leather and silk, black and white, very classic=85 Very n= ice. I think I may have an outfit that will do for this too." Michelle said as = an evil grin filled her face. "The more the merrier=85 Grab some of the other's too." Tammy set down h= er stuff and pulled out a cell. "I'll arrange for a limo." ******* (At the Raven) First the small, black caf=E9 racer pulled up in front of the bar. 'This= is really weird=85 Last time I was in Toronto it was a place called the Liqu= id Lounge. Yet another of those anomalies that happen when a FK war breaks out.' Rogue Cousin Tammy swung off the bike, her long leather jacket fluttering behind her. Some people that had yet to enter the Raven nodde= d in appreciation of the Rogue Cousin's style as she waited for the limo to arrive. Her hair was in the wild layered style she favoured with her rat-tail at the back beaded and wrapped in black silk thread and moonston= e beads. The limo pulled up drawing the attention of the small crowd outside. The driver, a tanned, muscled, raven haired godling in a tight driver's unifo= rm came around to the side of the car facing the bar and opened the door. Michelle was the first to glide from the back seat. The silk, mandarin collared; sheath dress clung in all the right places, accentuating her figure as she walked. The jade green colour brought out accents in her eyes, while the phoenix that decorated the dress completed the look. Her lustrous black hair was drawn up off her neck in a twist, and held in pla= ce by two lacquered chopsticks. Mysterie was the second out of the car. She slinked out like a panther o= n the prowl. Her knee length, velvet basic black dress was a simple yet elegant choice. A hint of garter peeked through the slit on the right s= ide attached to lace topped black silk stockings. Her hair was brushed until= it shone like satin and her eyes glittered with the fire of her spirit as sh= e approached. Amanda slipped out of the car like a whisper. Her black mini dress with = the princess neckline gave just a hint of cleavage, and a whole lot of leg. After exiting she slipped on the sapphire blue bolero jacket, she had bee= n carrying, which finished the ensemble. Amanda's hair had been curled int= o ringlets and then pulled into a ponytail only allowing a fringe of ringle= ts to accent her face. The final piece in the puzzle was Angela. As she slid from the car wearin= g a black, long-sleeved, off the shoulder top which came down to mid hip, and flared out like a very short skirt after the white silken scarves that ac= ted as her belt and a pair of white, almost see through, silk harem pants the trio approached Tammy. "Where did you get the jacket like Amanda's from Highlander: The Raven?" Michelle asked admiring the flowing lines of the coat. "A custom leather place in Edmonton=85 And don't ask how much it cost." = Tammy winced at the memory then looked at her friends. "Very good ladies," Tam= my smiled, "Fashionably late too. We are going to knock them dead." "Well we could knock them mortal," Mysterie said waggling her eyebrows. "Which brings me to another point=85 We have a lot of men in there, if Janette let the regulars stay, that have a neck fixation. Watch what you= do ladies, or your going to end up with some 'monster hickeys'." Tammy look= ed at the two with their hair off their neck meaningfully. Michelle rubbed = her neck and nodded in agreement. Amanda on the other hand got an evil grin = and muttered something about Miklos. The crowd outside had stopped talking to watch the four women enter the Raven. The doors at the top of stairs swung open and everyone inside stopped. T= he four ladies slipped inside and walked down the stairs in unison. Each st= ep was calculated for effect. As they reached the bottom and made their way into the crowd, the noise of the party resumed. The four went their separate ways. Tammy moved through the crowd. Tasha had specifically said to get to kno= w Janette, so that was what she was aiming for. She started looking throug= h the crowd, wincing occasionally at the music that was being played. She slipped past the DJ booth as Rick Springfield was being played to drop of= f her Concrete Blonde "Bloodletting" CD. She slipped it unobtrusively into the pile of CD's hoping at some point it would be played for the good of all. Noting the crowd of bouncing Natpackers, she shivered uncomfortably and moved away to look elsewhere. Janette would be no where near this bunch. Amanda and Mysterie however found themselves right near the DJ booth as t= he music changed from Rick to Belinda. As they were about to head to the ba= r for another drink, in the crush of bouncing Natpackers they were forced t= o run into a group of Nat sans Nickers. "Sorry=85" Amanda said without realizing who she was talking to. The words between the two factional groups got rather heated until Michelle came and pulled the Mysterie and Amanda out of the fray. As Amanda and Mysterie moved away from the Nat sans group they began to vent=85 "WE force Natalie into being an outlet for our fantasies? Moon ey= ed over Nick=85 What do we look like his harem?" Amanda said loudly. "Fantasys=85 They're in LOVE," Mysterie chimed up, "Why wouldn't we enco= urage true love? They'd rather she was with ol' Uncle." "Nah that would be the Vals", Amanda corrected Mysterie, "Besides Natal= ie has a mothering complex that needs release somehow and it doesn't look li= ke she's going to get it by having kids with someone." "Just remember ladies=85 This is a friendly little war. I don't think ou= r factional differences are going to be solved here. So let's just let thi= s drop." Michelle advised her friends, "Besides I have this feeling", Michelle continued, "That in the end it will be best if we all work together. It's this fractionalization that isn't allowing us to achieve = our goals." Then loud enough for the other faction to hear, "And then there'= s the fact that the show is called "Forever Knight"=85 Not "Forever NAT"=85= If they want a show that's just about Nat, they should go pitch it to Sony."= A cheer went up from some nearby Knighties. Michelle looked at the other t= wo, "Come on=85 I'll buy you some drinks." As they disappeared into the crow= d, both Amanda and Mysterie started giggling uncontrollably and Michelle soo= n joined in after. ------------- Comments to Tabby_Katt@technowizards.com From - Mon Aug 16 00:57:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GBhW-0005Oy-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 21:36:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5856; Sun, 15 Aug 99 21:33:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4842; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 21:33:39 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 21:24:55 EDT Reply-To: CousinWulf@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Wulf Subject: WAR: CUZ: "An Afterthought" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a0b60df900a66bf83829acd7018bbcef "An Afterthought" by Cousin Wulf Time: Saturday, August 14th, around 9:20 pm or just a bit at the end of the Cousins' "A Meeting of Cousinly Minds" Place: CERK Fedora in hand, a Cousin in a long black duster with short blond hair slipped into the back of the room where the Cousins' meeting was taking place, only to hear the words, "Sometime late Thursday or early Friday, a ritual was performed that transformed *all* the vampires in the immediate vicinity of Toronto into mortals." You could feel the shock ripple through the room. Wulf, the late arrival, gaped at Tok in the front of the room who'd made that awful pronouncement. No vampires? As the meeting continued, Wulf became slowly aware that she was standing beside a rather tall man, who, she discovered with a bad start as she actually looked at him... was Lacroix. The General. Mortal. [YIKES!] Wulf thought, tearing her eyes away five seconds later, recovering from her freeze. To her further dismay, a few minutes later as the meeting ended, she felt his gaze fall upon her. "You," he accused, peering down at her. "Er, me, General, sir," Wulf managed to get out. She glanced up at him, then looked at him rather long, wondering. With Lacroix, you wonder whether you're going to live much longer... or what the heck he was going to ask you to, er, do... "What are *you* staring at?" the General inquired, frowning. Mortal. Lacroix. [Nope, can't get the brain around that one.] "A vampire," Wulf answered, lifting her chin. "Potentially," Lacroix answered, glowering. "Shall we say, the once and future..." "Too right, sir," Wulf gulped, her brain still futilely grappling with this new development. Then she realized he was staring back at her. [Oh, no...] "You cut your hair, er..." "Wulf," she said hastily. "Yeah, it's been a hot summer." An eyebrow raised in interest. "Wulf. I see. Well." One more summarizing look, then the General nodded minutely and moved on. [This is not good to walk into CERK and have to face a... a... er, Lacroix like that...] Wulf thought. Grapple. Grapple. [This isn't working...] To no one in particular, Cousin Wulf sighed, "Anyone else need to go to Buckstar's for a coffee infusion? I must be dreaming." The End Cousin Wulf CousinWulf@aol.com From - Mon Aug 16 00:57:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GBsj-0005pv-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 21:48:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5911; Sun, 15 Aug 99 21:46:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5585; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 21:46:00 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 21:37:39 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Our Pensive Post 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8d4219c9c608f1945dac90cef37bb270 NA: Our Pensive Post 01/01 by Patt Elmore Time: Sunday afternoon, Aug. 14, 1999 Place: NA Shrine Cousin Jules used with permission; her dawgies mentioned with her endorsement. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jules, High Priestess of Nunkies, decided as she surveyed the bed-littered Shrine Altar Room. The addicts, except for a few now missing in action, had enjoyed sleeping in this morning. After a fantastic brunch of Pecan Breaded Chicken, Sweet Red Pepper Fettuccine, Baked Parmesan Potatoes, Squash-Carrot Casserole, Nunkies' Salad and Scallop and Lime Soup (all recipes available in the *Recipes from the Jeweled Peach* cookbook--ask Jules and she'll tell you how to get a copy. ), the addicts had, true to their promises, cleaned up the Altar room to respectability. "It still looks like a mob hangout," Jules muttered under her breath. "Hey, Miss High Peesed-Off," an indolent little voice called from across the room. Jules winced and turned toward it's owner. The stout little ex-vamp gave the HP a crooked smile. "Yes . . . Sapo, isn't it?" Jules narrowed her eyes, waiting. Sapo nodded. "Thas me. Hey! You know where the lice-son lady is at?" "I take it that you're referring to Patt?" Jules sighed deeply. "I'm not sure where the Third Cousin is at the moment, but if I know her as well as I think I do, I have an idea." "Well, if you find her, you tell her Kriel is lookin for her," Sapo said, turning to walk away. "Sapo." A thought hit Jules and she called out in curiosity. "It's 1 p.m. in the afternoon. Why are you working? I thought the construction was to continue at night." Sapo turned back toward the HP. "Big boss LaCroix--he give us orders to finish and bonus if we do. We decided that we work in shifts during day. We can do inside work if we hang plastic over window openings." "And holes in the roof," Jules commented sarcastically. "The way this renovation is going, the Shrine will soon look like that poor old broken down church of Vachon's." "Could be worse," Sapo grinned. "You could be livin in Ratpacker Tunnels." Jules watched the effusive little man walk away, then turned and headed off in search of the Third Cousin. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In a far corner of the lower level of the Shrine was a place where few addicts ever trod. Granted, It was a tiny nook. But, when one sought solace, it was big enough. Patt had heard that several addicts were off delivering *Personal Tranquility Devices* to various faction leaders. Nice gesture, the Third Cousin thought. Patt decided that personal tranquility was exactly what she needed, so after brunch and clean up, she had relocated her body to her little haven. The sensible shoe closet. Patt had rearranged the closet into her own little bit of private space. She'd placed an overstuffed lounger in the cove, along with dog agility reading material and a dorm-sized beer fridge. But the coup-de-gras . . . *that* she had placed on the ceiling. When Jules walked in, Patt was staring upward, an expression of sublime contentment on her face. Jules cocked her head so that she could look skyward, confirmed her suspicions and let out a deep groan. "You still have that *thing* tacked up there?" Jules admonished the Third Cousin. "I like it," Patt reminded the HP. The mature addict took a sip from her Budweiser longneck, and indicated with the bottle toward the ceiling. "The colors are so . . . vibrant." "Like black velvet Elvis pictures." Jules smacked her lips with distaste. "It always makes me crave peanut butter and chocolate candy." Patt grinned at her auburn-haired mentor. "That's what it's supposed to do, girlfriend." "Well, bid Mr. Reese in Repose adieu for now," Jules said. "You have a date with Kriel." Patt frowned. "It's Sunday and it's daylight." "And LaCroix appears to have offered the ex-vamps a bonus based on time-frame," Jules replied. "I was told to tell you that Mr. Kriel needs your attendance." "I am displeased by this information, Jules," Patt announced, pushing the handle so that the lounge chair returned to upright position. "I deserve a day off." "We could only wish that LaCroix saw it that way," Jules smiled gently. Patt gave the HP a cursive, then appreciative look. "I don't envy you, Julsey, putting up with him like you have all these years." "It's a labor of love." Jules shrugged and smiled. Then, her expression grew distant. "And, I have this sickening feeling that he will need all our love, strength and devotion even more acutely in the coming weeks." Patt nodded. "You're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you? That our construction crew aren't the only vampires suddenly stricken with mortality-miasma? That maybe LaCroix is walking around with the ability to acquire a tan?" Jules' answer came slowly. "I haven't seen him personally, but I have a sinking feeling that may be the case." "Oh." There was a long silence. Patt looked at her friend. "Want a beer?" Jules smiled. "Perhaps later we'll share some wine." Patt grinned. "Okay. Jules?" "Yes?" "Does this count as our one obligatory, serious, pensive post per War?" Jules brightened. "I believe it does. Thank goodness that's over with." Patt stood up. "I guess I better go see what VampKrieter needs. You want to join me?" the mature one added hopefully. "You're doing just fine handling the construction responsibilities without any help from me," Jules reminded the Third Cousin. "LaCroix would be proud." Patt's grin widened as her ego puffed up. "And," Jules said, standing up also, "I have an errand or two myself to run. I must get over to my under-used apartment and check on Devo and Watson. They're quite self-sufficient, but I must sign the utility checks so they can mail them." "Those are some smart little dogsters," Patt agreed. "Give them a pat for me, okay?" "Will do. Wine later?" "Here or elsewhere?" Jules thought for a moment. "Can you behave?" Patt looked hurt. "Of course I can, Julsey. I'm management now." The HP smiled. "Very well. There's a new place I've heard of called the Docks." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The end 01/01 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Mon Aug 16 00:57:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GCIA-0006ry-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 22:14:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6018; Sun, 15 Aug 99 22:12:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6967; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 22:12:26 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 19:14:16 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--The *Other* Vaq Twin To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a7b85e2ce3553e9299f3e0eb5329924b 15 Aug 1999 Vaq HQ--The Church Toronto, ON 2 p.m. The *Other* Vaq Twin By Vaquera Scribe #3, Felicia Felicia wandered outside with her weapons bag, hoping to get a few katas in. The Vaqs had stayed awake nearly all night, and the others were still laying around the Church. The Vaquera Kenpo Queen couldn't stand it any longer, she being a slacker in name only. She walked into the churchyard and began to stretch. She selected her sai swords. Moving slowly and deliberately, she spun and flung them this way and that, fighting an invisible attacker. At one point she turned, and found a man digging through her bag. "Don't you have any of those chains with the barb things on them?" "Those are Kung Fu weapons, I study Kenpo," came the automatic answer. Felicia snapped out of her near-trance and realized that the man was familiar to her. She stepped forward, extending her hand, "It's Juan, isn't it?" He smiled and took her hand. "Yes. Juan Valdez." Felicia stifled a snicker. "Right. Well. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Felicia Olivier." "The pleasure is mine." The Inca looked thoughtful for a moment, and then continued. "It seems that you have the same condition as my brother." Her hand immediately flew to her hair. "What? I have split ends? I just had my hair cu. . ." Juan burst out laughing. "No! No, that's not what I meant. Your name. You have a Spanish first name and a French last name." Oh. "Yeah, well my very Cajun grandmother named me for a parish in Louisiana. Actually, there are two Felicianas, but she wasn't specific." "Really? A parish you say? How interesting." "Yeah. I figure I got off easily. I could have been Calcaseiu or Tangipahoa." Juan's nose wrinkled. "Perhaps you are right." She shrugged. The Inca looked weary. "So, how are you with the whole mortal thing," she asked. Juan walked over to a pew that the Vaqs had moved outside to accommodate their smokers. He sunk down. "How am I? That is a good question. I haven't given it much thought. Tell me, how is Javier dealing with it?" Felicia sat down beside him. "He's. . .okay, I guess. He's developed some kind of super-sensitivity." His eyes went wide. "Oh?" She sighed. "Yes. Last night I asked him to tell me about the Spanish Armada, and he sort of flipped out." Juan laughed. "You mentioned the Spanish Armada? Oh, that's rich. It's not his recent mortality that caused his reaction. He's just always been kidded by his friend, you know, the Carouche. He's developed a nerve where that subject is concerned." "Ah. Well how was I to know?" "You couldn't. We all have little things that bother us, don't we? Something that always gets under our skin?" Felicia frowned, remembering one thing in particular. "Darn Billy Buckner and his butter fingers," she muttered. "Hmmmm?" She shook her head. "Oh, sorry. Red Sox thing. So, Juan, what brings you by on this fine day?" He stood and started towards the door. "I came by to borrow your faction leader," he said. Felicia quickly recalled the instructions that the VaqMom had given the previous night. "If Juan comes by, I'm *not* here," she'd stated. "Oh, well, Juan, I'm sorry to say that Tracy Sue isn't in the Church." It was true enough. Tracy Sue had gone out behind the church to see to the care of the Vaq pets. "I'm the Second in Command, though, the Vaq Adjutant General. Can I be of assistance?" "Well, Tracy Sue was doing some research for me. Do you know where she might be found?" "Sure. She *might* be found at the grocery store two blocks up on the left." Juan missed the emphasis on 'might'. Just then, the Church doors opened and Vachon stepped out. "Oh, there you are, Feleesh, we were wondering about you." Seeing his twin, he froze momentarily and his eyes went wide. "Hi Juan. Tracy Sue's not here," he said just a bit too quickly. Felicia rolled her eyes and gave him a look from her position on the Inca's other side. Vachon looked confused. "Good day, Javier. Yes. Your Vaq Adjutant has told me where I might find her. I'll see to that now." He turned and moved off. "Yeah, bye," Vachon called after him. He still wore the puzzled look. "Sheesh! Blink, blink, Javier! You are becoming *very* talented at blowing covers!" Felicia retrieved her bag and climbed the Church steps. "I had everything under control." Vachon stopped her before she entered the Church. "Wait. What did you tell him?" She gave a long-suffering sigh. "I just said that Tracy Sue *might* be found at the grocery store." Vachon laughed. "*Might*, huh? That's a good one. Sorry I ever doubted you." "You should be. I've defended you! I'll have you know that there are people who would believe you were dead if it weren't for Vaqs like me. Where's the love, Javier? Where's the love?" Seeing the look on his face, she burst out laughing, too. They entered the Church, and immediately knew that something was brewing. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2 "The War Machine springs alive; opens up one eager eye. ."--Nena, '99 Red Balloons'. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 16 00:57:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GCjP-00004j-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 22:42:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6112; Sun, 15 Aug 99 22:40:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8150; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 22:40:30 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 20:37:59 -0600 Reply-To: Stormer Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stormer Subject: War: N&NPack: Birds of a Different Feather (Part 2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c4847aad5efbffeda2b9ba92ba733329 War: N&NPack: Birds of a Different Feather By Rogue Cousin Tammy Friday August 13: Just before and during the Ravenette's party(fashionably late of course) Janette and Miklos used with permission of the Ravenettes Part Two of Two --------- Tammy was already where the other's were heading. "Miklos... One glass Chilean red, please." The bartender nodded and poured the drink. "Nice outfit", he commented, "Very nice... Faction?" "Nick and Nat Pack..." Tammy commented as she sipped her wine and watched the milling forms on the dance floor. "Not the regular DJ. Even a little Nightcrawler would be good now." Miklos nodded in agreement. "I thought you guys were more the jeans and t-shirts type..." Miklos eyed the Rogue Cousin. "We clean up really well. Besides I'm actually a Rogue Cousin... So that makes me a Dark Nick and Natpacker." Tammy continued to sip and watch, biding her time to ask him to arrange a meeting with Janette. "Rogue Cousin?" Miklos looked even more confused. Cousins tended more towards the austere black on black look. "Yeah, I like tweeking Uncle's nose. Just can't let him pin me down and tow the party line, so I hang with the people he probably dislikes as much or more than the Knighties. Really, I'm representing his interests... I support the Nick and Nat as vampires idea." Tammy sipped some more wine, "Janette really keeps excellent stock." "That won't get much play this war..." Miklos grumbled. "What?? Why??" the Rogue Cousin looked confused. "You better talk to Janette... You obviously haven't been let in on what blonde boy did!" Miklos escorted Tammy to the office where Janette fuming about the music. "Will someone get control of the sound system! That is what I borrowed Caroline from the Dark Percs to do isn't it?? Those scrub wearing women are going to deafen me..." Janette pulled out a cigarette and lit it in agitation. "What is it Miklos?" Janette looked annoyed. The door being open made the noxious music from outside float into Janette's office. "A lady from the Nick and Nat pack to see you. I think you better fill her in on the realities of this war." Miklos ushered Tammy in. Janette's eyebrow climbed. This one knew how to dress. "Please sit. May I offer you a drink?" "Thank you, your red wine is excellent." Tammy commented. Janette nodded and Miklos went out quickly. Janette paced a bit, looking very agitated. Tammy noted she had more colour than normal as well. Miklos came back with a bottle and filled both her and Janette's glasses. "Um... I don't drink the same vintage you do..." Tammy said politely. "Niether do I... Anymore..." "I still can't believe you're all mortal... Every vampire, even Uncle??" Tammy shook her head. "Even Uncle..." Janette rose to escort Tammy out of the office. "This isn't good," Tammy stopped and looked at Janette, "In this case I think we should be working together. I mean if we're all looking for pieces of this cube. It might be in our best interests. You all do want things back to normal don't you?" "I for one, oui. I will propose your offer of allyship, as odd as it is for NNPack and the Ravenettes and we'll see what they say. Anything else..." Janette asked. "Well, next year I was considering playing with the Ravenettes... Just for a change." Tammy said idly. 'There Tasha=85 Happy now!' she thought at the alternate Natalie that was now probably only a figment of her imagination. "We shall talk... I think you would make a welcome addition." Janette nodded and the woman exited the office. Tammy sought out the others who were sitting at the bar singing some bawdy songs with some agreeable Knighties and Natpackers. "Boy do I have some news for you!!" Tammy leaned in close. "We have to get back and let Soul and the other's know!" ------- Comments to tabby_katt@technowizards.com From - Mon Aug 16 00:57:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GDsi-0000RG-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 23:56:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6570; Sun, 15 Aug 99 23:53:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3390; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 23:53:44 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 23:51:42 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: A Bit of Perspective 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 94ea160ccea5a535c2631bb92fe82d5e NA: A Bit of Perspective 01/01 by Patt Elmore Time: Sunday afternoon and evening, Aug. 14, 1999 Concurrent with "Let Loose the Dawgs of War" Place: NA Shrine Cousin Jules used with permission Vachon used with permission Spark used because nobody else claimed him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Kriel?" Patt called out as she topped the stairs to the second floor landing. Jules had told Patt that the ex-vamps had blocked the windows and ceiling gaps with tarps, but she hadn't expected it to be so dim up here. Using her fingers, the Third Cousin felt her way along the wall. "Kriel? If you want to see me, I'm here." She passed several of the workmen, who acknowedged the mortal with a cursory nod, if even that. Patt did take a moment to admire some departing construction-type behinds. Even in mortal guise, the ex-vampires possessed a powerful aura. Patt had once heard that when one was brought across, certain physical attributes were enhanced in the process, allowing the vampire to be more attractive to his or her potential prey. Patt, after years of walking among the undead, believed this to be true. Except maybe in the case of Sapo. Patt grimaced, then grinned when she thought of the toadish little ex-vamp. "And they ask me why I wouldn't want to be chomped on and brought over," Patt muttered to herself. "My luck, I'll turn out to be a Sapa." A particularly fine looking blonde construction vamp walked by, muscles rippling beneath his thin white T-shirt. Patt puckered her lips to whistle, but refrained at the last moment. "Kriel?" The mature addict reached the entrace of the newly begun second floor meditation room. She picked her way across the floor, negotiating around the stacks of building materials and cans of putty compound. At the far corner of the room, a figure was busily welding framework. Patt made her way to the individual, hoping that he might have some idea as to the location of the sought after foreman. Before she made her presense known, however, Patt took a moment to admire the physique of the welder. Due to his posture, the welder's T-shirt had pulled away from the cinch of his jeans, exposing a modest amount of pale flesh. Patt grinned laciviously. Then she frowned. A distant memory triggered a small warning bell in her brain, causing an intense desire to shun this person. Patt's eyes traveled up the workman's back until she noted the long, black ponytail hanging below the rim of the welder's helmet. It didn't take vampiric senses to hear Patt's gasp. Arc torch in hand and flame glowing blue, the welder stood up and turned to face the mature addict. He flipped up his visor and two hard brown eyes stared at the addict. "Spark." Patt's voice was choked. "Go away, Elmore," the dark-haired demon seethed. "I have work to do." Patt didn't appear to understand good advise when it was given. "Wha . . wha . . what are *you* doing here?" The Third Cousin stammered. "What does it look like I'm doing," Spark replied, his voice wrathful. "I'm welding." He flipped his visor back into place and returned to his work. "Bu . . bu . . . but why?" Patt persisted. Spark turned back to the addict, lifting the visor. "It's what I do, human. I weld. I've welded since Nikolai N. Bernados and Stanislav Olszweski secured a British patent for carbon arc welding in 1885. I was there three years later, still mortal, when the blow pipe, or torch if you prefer, using acetylene and liquified air or oxygen was developed." He triggered the switch, causing the flame to glow yellow with oxygen burst. "Where do you think I got the nickname Spark?" "Oh. That makes sense," the mature addict nodded. "But it still doesn't explain why you're here?" Spark stared at the woman unbelievingly. "You really don't know? You are unaware that your master, LaCroix, holds my spirit line in his hand." "Your spirit line?" "My self, my unlife." Spark mentally pushed the addict away. "The elders decided that I had offended his family and, therefore, my spirit line was forfeit. I was handed over to LaCroix for retribution." "Oh . . ." "What you see here, little human, is my *punishment.* My *Community* service, if you will. Now, go away and let me served my time." He pulled the visor down again in a gesture of dismissal. This time, Patt took the hint. She backed out of the room, almost tripping over a pallet of bricks, and fled from the premises. She didn't slow down until she was out of the Shrine and in the alley way below. Patt ran to her marroon Chevrolet truck, hopped into the cab and drove. As she made her way to the lake shore area where she had agreed to meet Jules for cocktails, Patt was struck, literally, by a flurry of pamphlets which gusted in the wind. The flyers swirled and seemed to multiply as the truck sped by. "KC," Patt muttered. Patt pulled into the parking lot of the Docks, one of Toronto's newest nightclubs. Jules wasn't due to meet her for several hours, but Patt didn't mind waiting, as long as Jim Beam would keep her company. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Several hours later, the High Priestess of Nunkies entered what had been proclaimed as the largest NightClub Complex in North America. The advertisements bragged that it was the *Next Generation* in entertainment, with state-of-the-art laser, sound, and *intelligent* lighting. Jules had to admit it was roomy. "May I help you?" a young woman touched Jules' arm. "I'm looking for a friend," Jules replied. "We were supposed to have drinks." The HP looked at the entrance which branched in three directions. "I have no idea where she might be." "Her name?" Jules supplied Patt's name and the woman smiled. "She chose the alternative music room. It's the door to the left." Jules wormed her way through the crowd of people, finally locating Patt, sitting in a solitary booth near the bar. "That doesn't look like wine," Jules observed, sitting down beside her friend. "It's not," Patt confirmed. "I'm drinking bourbon and Coke tonight." The Third Cousin's bleary eyes further verified this fact. "Kriel give you a rough time after I left?" Jules smiled as she sat down. "I never saw Kriel," Patt replied, her words slightly slurred. She proceeded to give Jules a jolting account of her encounter with Spark. "Oh, my," Jules commented as Patt finished her story. "This could be bad--for you." "Or, it could be a minor inconvenience," a soft masculine voice addressed the women. "Depends on how you look at it." "V-man!" Patt seemed genuinely happy to see the Spaniard, while Jules simply groaned. Vachon slipped into the booth beside the HP, adding his own drink to those already on the table. The HP regarded the Spaniard with her normal haughtiness. "What are *you* doing here and how did you escape your entourage?" Vachon grinned. "The Vaqs allow me my personal space. They're just being a little over protective . . . due to my newly reconstituted condition." Jules' eyebrows shot up. "You're mortal?" "Damn . . . it's catching," Patt hiccupped. "We all are," Vachon said flatly, answering the HP's question. "Surely you knew that LaCroix was . . ." he stopped when he realized that she hadn't been sure. "We . . . suspected as much," Jules replied, the sadness deep in her voice. "I hate it for LaCroix . . . he's so proud. So embraced in his immortality." "That's our NunkNunk," Patt chortled. "Vampity, Vamp Vamp all the way home." "He's made it longer than most," Vachon agreed. "You seem to be adapting well enough," Jules observed as Vachon took a sip of his tequila. "Hey, I'm a bit younger than the old guy," Vachon grinned. "It's easier to acclimate when you're part of the younger generation. Heck, did you know this place has Swimsuit Canada competition every Saturday afternoon at 2 p.m.? Don't think I won't be back here next week for the show. "I'm happy you're enjoying your time in the sun, Vachon, I really am," Jules noted. "But you understand my concerns about LaCroix." "And I'm sure *Nunkies* appreciates and shares those concerns, mi fuega." Vachon reached out and touched Jules' hand, which she promptly slid out from under his hold. Vachon sat back, regarding the HP with mischief in his eyes. Then, he suddenly sobered and stood up to leave. "Take care, ladies," Vachon said, his eyes cool. "And one more thing. Have you seen more rats than usual lately?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End 01/ 01 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Mon Aug 16 00:56:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G87R-0005W5-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:47:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5157; Sun, 15 Aug 99 17:45:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5090; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 17:45:06 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 21:46:57 GMT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Mildred G. Cady" Subject: WAR: Calling *all* Harem Wives who are in War 10 To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 65aeb9204b27d7bd8fd9792799afd3ac Even if you're not playing with the Harem... There's something involving you and your precious Nicholas, so please contact Randora Wife #1 or me (Merc Mommy General Mildred), for more information... Randora's e-mails: fknight@acnet.net, fknight@cyberweb.org, texdknght@cyberwe.org My contact info: mgcady@hotmail.com, mercgeneral@yahoo.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 16 01:22:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GFC0-0006M3-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 01:20:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5050; Mon, 16 Aug 99 01:18:15 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3332; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 01:18:16 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 00:13:13 -0500 Reply-To: Amy Reed Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Amy Reed Subject: War: Harem: Friday the 13th, what other day could it be? (2/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2d28058d1945c8aeaf63553837b0f205 Title: Friday the 13th, what other day could it be? (2/?) by: Randora, Nick's Harem, Wife #1 Date: Friday, August 13, 1999 Time: 11am ET After: Don't I know you? Randora was staring at the phone wondering what part of 'You put the furnishings in the wrong room' the person on the other end did not understand. "You ... put ... the ... furniture ... in ... the ... *wrong* ... room! Now get over here and fix it!" She hung up the phone and rubbed at her temples. 'Great, get 6 hours sleep after being up close to 72. Wonderful. I can tell this is going to be a great day,' she sighs to herself. She heard a step then four dogs came bounding into her office. One jumped up into her lap and started licking her face. This was her first clue that Amethyst had arrived at some point. "Amethyst! I'm glad you made it! The fools we hired to decorate the place put things in the wrong rooms. My car quit on me, and I'm supposed to go pick up DragonLady at the airport at 10 this morning." She patted the dog in her lap crushing her into the desk chair. Amethyst looked at her harried leader and makes an offer she's sure she will live to regret. "Um, Randora? It's after 11:00 now. Look, I'll watch over the workmen, you take my van to pick up any of the Wives arriving. You look as if you could use a break." Randora looked at the clock, paled and pushed the dog off her lap as she jumped to her feet. "Man, oh man, oh man, oh man. She's going to kill me and become Wife #23, which will make you Wife #1. I'm out of here! Wish me luck!" she called as she grabbed the keys before her second-in-command could change her mind. She darted out the door to freeze when she opened the door. "Blast, forgot what time it is." She backed away from the doorway and headed upstairs for her purse and sunglasses. She didn't look forward to walking out into the sunlight, but didn't have much of a choice. She walked back downstairs, opened the door, shuddered slightly, put on her sunglasses and hurried out to the van. After only getting lost twice, Randora pulls up at the airport. She looks at her pager (the only watch she has) and notices she's two hours late in picking up DragonLady. She sighs, parks the van and sprints for the door. *fin for now* YFITK, Amy Knightie; Dark Knightie; GWDFC Number-One-Wife & Listowner of Nick's Harem; B.R.I.C.K. Listowner: FK-XStitcher -- "Cross-Stitcher of the Knight" fknight@acnet.net fknight@cyberweb.org - TexDKnght (IRC) Forever Knight Web Site: http://forever-knight.virtualave.net My Football page: http://members.tripod.com/~ReedStuff/nfl From - Mon Aug 16 06:53:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GFgG-0005tq-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 01:51:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5126; Mon, 16 Aug 99 01:49:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4303; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 01:49:27 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 01:40:24 -0400 Reply-To: DragonLady Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: DragonLady Subject: War: Harem: waL s'yhpruM To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5bc9349d0e171d93677ce22d2c949d18 Date: Friday. August 13, 1999 Time: approx. 10am ET WAL S'YHPRUM I glanced at my watch for the umteenth time in the last 30 minutes. The plane was late. Just my luck. I pulled my compact from my purse and checked my forehead in the mirror. Sometimes I think I have "Murphy's Law" stamped there in big red letters. "Excuse me, Miss," I stopped the flight attendant. "What time are we landing?" She looked at her watch. "We should touch down in Toronto around 10:45am. We made good time today." She smiled and walked away. I was getting in 45 minutes late and she thinks we made good time. I stared out the window as the clouds streamed by. My stomach did a flip as the plane began its descent. The landing was uneventful. Good thing, too. My mind was occupied with thoughts of meeting the other wives. So many things to do, so little time to do them. I had to make it through customs, get my bags, find Randora, then it was on to Harem Headquarters and the redecorating, then party hearty. I walked down the concourse to the security station reading signs as I walked. I dropped my purse and small travel bag on the x-ray conveyor and stepped through to the other side. "Excuse me, ma'am. Would you please come with us." It wasn't really a question. I turned and faced a very large man in a security uniform. "Ah, . . . why? Is something wrong?" I stared at him puzzled. He had my purse and carry-on bag in his hands. "Those are mine. What are you doing?" I was beginning to get a little desperate. I was already late and I didn't want to have to take a cab to HHQ. A second security guard took me by the arm and guided me a room with large, glass windows off the side of the concourse. The first man put my baggage on a table and motioned me over. "Please open the bag, ma'am." I stepped over, unzipped the bag and opened it. He looked inside, then put his hand in and rumaged around. "I would really like to know what's going on here! I'm late, I haven't done anything and you're making me later." I crossed my arms and glared at him. He looked smugly at his partner and pulled his hand from my bag. "Ah-ha, what's this?" A pair of stainless steel, fur-lined handcuffs dangled from his fingers. He shook them at me. "This is what we saw on the x-ray machine. Want to explain this?" "What's there to explain!" I huffed. "Don't you know what they are? Give me those!" I snatched them away from him and dropped them into my purse. "I have plans for the weekend. Those are included, you, however are not! Look, if it's any help," I rooted around in my wallet, pulled out a card and handed it to him, "here's my 'Get Out of Jail Free' card." He took the card and stared at it dumbfounded. He motioned to his partner and they went out onto the concourse. I watched them through the glass, talking and gesturing. A third guard joined them and pointed back toward the arrival gates. They talked a little more, then headed down the concourse. I saw my opportunity. I grabbed my bags, opened the door and made a dash in the other direction. Now to get my bags and get out of here. I finally found baggage claim. The conveyor where my bags were suppose to be was empty. "Excuse me, ma'am." I cringed. Slowly, I turned expecting to be hauled away in my own handcuffs. I was pleasantly surprised to find a young man dressed in a Delta Airlines uniform. I smiled. "Hi." "Hi. You weren't, by chance, looking for 2 large, blue bags were you?" "Ah, yes, I was." I was getting suspicious. "Well, I'm afraid they aren't here." "Whaaa?" "Your bags didn't make your flight." I pulled out my compact and checked my forehead again. "Great, just great." "Oh, don't worry though. They're on the flight due in later today and we'll be happy to have them delivered to your hotel. At the airlines expense, of course." "Oh, of course." I echoed grimly. "Just give me the name of where you're staying and I'll take care of it." He wrote down the address of HHQ. "Thanks," he smiled his best 'I've fixed an airline screwup smile.' As he turned to go I caught his arm. "By the way, how many other bags missed the plane?" I asked. "Oh, just yours," and he walked away. "Yeah, just mine, figures." I shook my head. The loud speaker caught my attention. "Will passenger DragonLady please pick up the nearest white courtesy phone. Passenger DragonLady, you have a phone call at the nearest white courtesy phone." I stepped up to the nearest rental car desk. "Excuse me, do you have a courtesy phone. I have a phone call." The attendant brought the phone out from under the desk. I picked up the reciever. "Hello?" "DL? Is that you? Where are you? I'm here to pick you up and I can't find you!" "Hi, Randora. You'll never believe it," I said exasperatedly. "I'm down at baggage claim. I'll be right up." "Ok, but hurry. I'm parked at the curb and the skycaps are threatening to tow me." I hung up, grabbed what little baggage I had and headed for the stairs. DragonLady NNPacker, DarkNN, Nick's Harem Wife #24, B.R.I.C.K. http://dragonlady.virtualave.net http://forever-knight.virtualave.net From - Mon Aug 16 06:53:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GGIp-0007f1-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 02:31:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5259; Mon, 16 Aug 99 02:24:10 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5859; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 02:24:10 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 22:58:47 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: War: NA: You and Me and the Powder Make 3 Tonight II (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fce9f5fdf732699d6c10f483d4c8af53 NA: "You and Me and the Powder Make 3 Tonight II" (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: About 4:30 am Sunday morning Place: The Shrine Follows: "You and Me and the Powder Make 3 Tonight" Permissions by: Cousin Tok to use LaCroix It was dark in the alley behind the Shrine. But it wasn't too dark to build a half pipe! Evil Cousin Tiff couldn't believe she was able to whammy almost the entire construction crew into building this large wooden structure. They were going on the diagrams in her notebook, which, according to the whammied Kriel, were actually pretty good to work off of. Validetta had watched in utter amazement how this mortal control her ex-vamp co-workers with such ease and grace. She also enjoyed watching them walk by in their tight shirts, but that's going way off the PG-13 rating this post is limited to. Tiff informed the Validetta that she could command the men around as well. This was something of a welcome change from the recent days' events. She was in charge. She had the power to command the men to do as she willed. And she was going to will them to work their hands to the bones! "You there!" She called to one vamp in a hard hat. "Clean all these pamphlets from the ground, someone could slip." She turned to face another worker. Validetta commanded another man to clear the alley of rats. Cousin Tiff wouldn't want to teach the NA new and interesting sports in a rat-infested alley. Tiff stood just outside the stable. She went in earlier to comfort the animals sleeping in there. All the noise would startle them out of their slumber. And she didn't want them to be frightened or anything. The post-adolescent addict listened to Validetta command the male conjugate of GROUT. This was great. It had been only a couple of hours and the halfpipe was almost done. By tomorrow, she could be showing everyone the joys of Extreme Sporting. At least if the vamps ever became revamped they might enjoy it. "Voi l`, movimento quella plancia di legno sopra all' estremit`!" the dark-haired woman yelled from across the alley! And you, she continued to, yet another, GROUT worker, "Get me one of those fizzy drinks... what is it called? A soda. I want a Diet Coke !" Tiff smiled as she watched Validetta command them. Validetta appeared to be enjoying herself. Tiff would take a break. Suddenly a tall dark figure appeared as Tiff turned to get a soda herself. "Aaaaahhhh!!!!!!" She cried out in fear. She looked up but spoke before she thought. "Don't do that to a person who has seen 'Blair Witch Project'!" LaCroix starred down at his short addict. "Is that how you young people greet your elders these days?" Tiff couldn't believe it. Nunkies was standing right in front of her and she yelled at him! "I-I-I-I-I'm s-sorry! I-I-I d-d-didn't realize who you were..." Tiff knew what was happening... the stutter signified what had started. A hand involuntarily went up and pulled some of her hair behind her right ear. LaCroix placed his hand on her chin, and lifted it so that he could see her face. A goofy grin appeared on her face when she saw he wasn't angry at her... Tiff knew it the swooning had begun, and if she didn't get away from LaCroix soon, she would become clumsy and drop something... or worse start hanging on his every word. Then it would come... Nunkulear Meltdown. She needed to get away from the Ancient Roman before she embarrassed herself anymore. "I-I-I- have to oversee construction.... over there!" Cousin Tiff sai d, running to the far end of the alley, trying to get away from him before it was too late. No good. LaCroix followed. "You're new here, aren't you?" he continued. Tiff continued to walk without looking at him. "Yes, why do you ask?" Now mortal LaCroix couldn't just fly right in front of her, so he would be forced to use his power of *smooth* in order to get this one to look at him again. "None of the other addicts would have tried something like this." "Oh, really? You don't say, I figured all the addicts are into crazy stunts and practical jokes. Heck, isn't that what this faction is known for during wartime?" Tiff kept from looking at LaCroix. She knew what would happen if she turned her head. "We're just kooky that way." She finished with a chuckle. Stuck in the corner of the alley, no place to go. "The Nunkies Addicts are clever. You, using your Trance Powder to hypnotize those boys and now the construction worker to do your bidding is very clever. I like clever. I like you." Tiff found herself turning around to face LaCroix. "Really?" She asked almost blushing. "Give me your Trance Powder, Tiffiney." Tiff handed him the small glass jar with black lid and white powder encased. "Is this all of it?" Tiff nodded, unable to speak. The swooning had reached final level. Complete and stupidity. "Thank you, Tiffiney." He threw her a small smirk for good measure and that was it. Nunkular Meltdown! Tiff fainted. LaCroix picked up the unconsceous body and took it back to it's bed in the shrine. What Tiff had done was very clever. She managed to whammy almost the entire construction crew without anyone noticing. She did have potential for the future in this faction, didn't she? The work on the Shrine needed to be done on time. But that meant umwhammying everyone on his own, starting with that blasted Italian... Validetta. ************************* Continued in "Indiana Janes and the Temple of NA" *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Mon Aug 16 06:53:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GGUp-0007E1-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 02:43:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5289; Mon, 16 Aug 99 02:41:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6304; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 02:41:46 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 00:46:14 -0600 Reply-To: "K. Astop" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "K. Astop" Subject: WAR: Knighties: Off the Cookie Sheet and into the Sink To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e0af72dbacf679aaccf331523452b9c9 Title: Off of the Cookie sheet and into the Sink Author: Zoe Place: The Loft Time/Date: August 15th, 1999 11:15ish am Right After: Iron Knighties and Fixing the Hole Chris F. (The Knightie Nurse) and Nick used with permission. The two sets of eyes peered over the enormous mountain of dishes before them. The azure set flicked towards his companion, his eyebrows furrowed. "You're serious about this?" He asked tentatively. His companion smiled widely, her grin almost reaching the tips of her ears, "Absolutely." "But, there's so many of them," he murmured, his eyes taking an inventory of the mess in front of them. The pile of dishes was an extraordinary sight. Dirty cookie sheets, pans, bowls, and the like were heaped upwards in a precarious tower - teetering and wobbling. It had only been a half an hour since the disastrous Iron-Chef cook-off, and Zoe had taken it upon herself to teach Nick the finer points of washing dishes. In part as a peace offering to the other Knighties for her cataclysmic exploding cookies, but more poignantly as a bit of revenge against her favorite now-mortal associate for pressuring her into the cookie fiasco to begin with. "And that, my friend, is why you get to help. Think of it as an education in menial labour. Every mortal have to deal with this rite of passage sooner or later," Zoe's grin widened. Nick let out a resigned breath and shook his head, "But look at them, there's so many. Can't we get some of the Knighties to hel-" "They are just dishes, Nick," Zoe interrupted, her grin remaining steadfast on her face, "after all, you want to experience the joys of mortality, you have to deal with the torments of it too. Besides, uh, I think they are busy with hole repair." Zoe winked at him and walked passed the glowering Detective towards the sink. She turned to face him. Stringently, she placed her hands on her hips, her face dissolving into a stern, authoritative countenance, "Shake your tail feather, Blondie!" He let out another sigh and trudged towards the sink, grumbling about domineering and pushy Knighties. Zoe didn't quite catch all of his fussing, but she grinned anyway. He stepped up to the sink, and glanced down at her , "Now what?" "Oh don't whine abo-" She started to utter, but immediately snapped her mouth shut, with a glacial look from her Dish Duty companion that reminded her of the Dark Knightie days of old. (Tread lightly, sister, just because he's mortal, doesn't mean you can tick him off! Besides, after that cookie thing, you're lucky he didn't bounce you out on your ear!) (HEY! That wasn't my fault! I warned him!) (Uh uh, doesn't hold water and you know it!) "Uh, here." She reached out and grabbed a j-cloth and thrust it into his hands. He looked down at the tiny perforated piece of fabric, his eyebrow arching. "Why don't you wash, and *I'll* dry?" He grinned boyishly. "Uh uh," Zoe returned the grin, "Part of this little exercise is learning that first one to the sink, gets dibs!" Still simpering, she crouched down to grab the dish soap from the cupboard by their knees, Nick's legs blocked her entrance. She tapped them lightly, "Schooch back, I gotta grab the soap, man." Nick rolled his eyes and sauntered back. Zoe threw open the cupboard and reached inside. Wrapping her small hands around the yellow bottle, she yanked it out. With momentum behind her, she flailed backwards, landing unceremoniously on her butt. Nick laughed loudly. "Okay that's the kinda funny, that's not," Zoe growled, clamoring back up. With a flick of her wrist, she shoved the saffron decanter into Nick's hands, and then proceeded to dust off her cargo pants, quickly - her face red with embarrassment. (Oh this just keeps getting better and better!) (Smooth, sister, very smooth.) (Oh shaddup!) "Alright," she squinted up at Nick, a slight glare lacing her blushing features, "Let's get to it, Laughing Guy." Nick grinned again, reaching towards the tap, and turned it on, allowing water to splash into the sink's stainless steel guts. "Whatever you say," the infectious grin still plastered on his face, "Just don't break any of my dishes with more of those suave and graceful movements of yours." A splash of water was flicked into his face as the two buckled down to attack the massive dish disaster that sat waiting. ~*~*~*~*~ An hour later, with dishes done, they stepped back from the sink. Zoe's face was full of pride and even amazement, while Nick's held a huge amount of relief. "See? Easy-Breezy Lemon-Squeezy," Zoe grinned. "Sez you. Look at my hands, " he held up his wrinkled palms and ten wrinkled digits with disdain plainly across his features. An playful grin filled Zoe's cheeks, "Welcome to the wonderful world of Dishpan Hands! I may not be able to cook, but I can do dishes like no one's business." "That's it. I'm getting a dishwasher," he retorted wryly. He treaded over to the dining room table, and slumped down in a chair. Zoe suppressed a grin, and tossed her now-soaked dish cloth on the counter and turned back to make a sardonic comment about men being wimps, when she was greeted by a pale-faced Nick with a weird and contorted expression on his face. "Uh, Nick?" Zoe's eyebrow quirked, "it's just dishpan hands. They'll be okay in a few minutes." Nick shook his head curtly, "Its not that. It's - It's-" His face erupted into a painful grimace as his left hand went to his stomach and his right to the table top as he squirmed. Zoe's eyebrows furrowed, confused. A second later, her olive eyes widened to a remarkable size - Zoe had just remembered breakfast. "Oh dear. It must be the curry." "Curry?" Nick said, letting out a haggard breath, "Are you sure it wasn't your cookies?" Zoe shot a quick glare at him, then bellowed, "CHRIIISSSS! We need some Knightie Nurse action stat!!" Knightie Nurse Chris padded into the dining room with a grim expression on her face, "What did you do to him now?" She said accusingly, a frown bursting onto her features. "Me? Wha?" Zoe straightened, "This was not my fault! It wasn't!" Chris shook her head and squatted next to her patient, who had now took to moaning and groaning in his seat. "There's no way am I being blamed for this!" Zoe stomped her foot. "What's wrong, Nick?" the Nurse asked, ignoring the tantrum that her fellow Knightie was throwing to her right. "My stomach," Nick winced, "I feel horrible. I think it was Zoe's cookies." He forced a small smile. "IT WAS NOT MY COOKIES!" Zoe roared, "Didja tell her about the curry, Nick? Huh? Or maybe the rest of crap you've eaten today?!" Nick glowered at the raving Knightie, causing her to inch back slightly. "Curry?" Chris' eyebrows rose upwards. "Yes! Curry, and sausages, and not to mention the cookies!" Zoe placed her arms across her chest defiantly, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. The Knightie Nurse suppressed a smile, "I think I have something perfect for this." She rose from her position and treaded towards her bag that lay nestled beside the couch. With a quick sweeping motion, she lifted it and began rummaging through its insides. Moments later, she found the small pink bottle she was looking for. She pulled it out, along with a spoon, and returned to the dining room, where Nick still grimaced and Zoe still pouted. Chris placed the pink bottle on the table, Nick's eyes immediately flicked to its pale exterior. "What is *that*?" He asked dubiously. "Just a little Pepto to settle that tummy of yours," Chris' face widened with a smile. "I think I need something more than that," his face still held the same doubt. Chris shook her head and twisted the cap, opening the small flask. With her right hand, she tilted it and began pouring the rosy substance into the small teaspoon. Once filled, she lifted it before Nick's eyes, her smile still broad on her face, "Open wide." Nick's face scrunched up in distaste. Grudgingly, he opened his mouth, and Chris popped the small spoon into his mouth. His face instantly dissolved into a visage of displeasure. "Now swallow," Chris ordered, rather commanding. His throat bobbed as he let the disgusting medicine flow down his esophagus. He cringed, as it continued its journey into his stomach. He looked at the two Knighties, abhorrence across his face, "Yuck!" Zoe smirked widely, and patted him lightly on the head, "Good boy." She received the same wry expression from both Nick and her fellow Knightie. She blinked innocently, and stepped backwards towards the kitchen, "Uh, I think I ll start putting the dishes away." ~Fin~ From - Mon Aug 16 06:53:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GGqf-0007ht-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 03:06:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7446; Mon, 16 Aug 99 03:04:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6969; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 03:04:18 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 00:05:39 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: Grandfather, Part I To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2198d90ae416f7a7d34621130095cd2f WAR: UF: Grandfather, Part I By: Julia Kocich and Les GS, with canine psychology supplied by Laurey. Setting: The Hive & the Constantine home Time: Late Saturday afternoon, then later that night, August 14th. After: "NA/UF: I Bring You A Message Of Peace (1/3)" and bracketing the events in "UF: Tail End Arrivals." That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. ~ Shakespeare's Sonnet LXXIII Julia was as happy as she could be, in Toronto. During War. In handcuffs. After all, she had her Personal Tranquillity Device, thanks to Bons. The door to the parlor opened and Lauren poked her head in. "Oh, Lauren! You just missed meeting Bons. See what she brought me?" Julia's cuffed hands pointed to the pale blue talisman of calmness. "Isn't it wonderful?" "Um ... that depends. What *is* it?" "It's my Valium salt lick. Just knowing it's here gives me an inner glow of contentment." "You're weird, Julia." "Thank you," the UF Cobra answered gravely. "I know it's not politically correct: I should be practicing Zen or something to ... 'ground' me. Well, just call me old-fashioned." Lauren sniffed, nose wrinkling. "Speaking of grounding, Megan wasn't meditating in here, was she? It smells... smoky." "Oh, no. That's from Les's Tranquillity Device." "Incense..?" "No. Havana cigars." Julia pointed with both hands to the patio on the other side of the glass of the French doors. Lauren followed her oddly eloquent gesture to see Les ensconced in one of the wing back chairs outside, looking rather Churchillesque with a cigar clamped between her teeth. The imitation was enhanced by her scowl of concentration as she fussed with the Discman in her hands. "Cigars..?" Lauren replied with the rising inflection of protest. "I know. But I told her she could only smoke them outside. She can listen to the CD or drink her Glen Grant if she wants to be tranquil inside." "She got a tranquilizing CD? One of those "Natural Noises" things?" "I don't think Les would find those particularly tranquilizing, do you? No, it's of Lacroix and a chipmunk reciting Shakespeare's sonnets." "A... chipmunk..?" "I'm sure Les would have preferred Nick, but," and here Julia gave a darn fine impression of a Gallic shrug despite the cuff handicap, "it was a gift from the NAs." "Ah," responded Lauren, in perfect understanding. Julia's features settled into an expression of innocence. "And ... while Les is entranced by Lacroix and the chipmunk, why don't you just help ease me out of these cuffs?" Lauren looked dubious. "I could... " Julia searched for a justification... "I could..." Her struggle to obtain a convincing guilelessness was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Lauren, still on the threshold of the parlor, glanced behind her. "Marilyn's got it," she announced. "Does she have her Claymore?" "Yep." "We're safe then. Though, I have to admit, the PTD has really taken the edge off my anxiety attacks about being attacked." "Uh... is that a Good Thing, Julia? Won't that put a lag in your response time?" "You know," Julia replied with an off-hand grin, "I just don't care." "Oh, boy," murmured Lauren. Marilyn, having answered the door and spoken to those outside for a moment, closed the door and came to the parlor. "There are two men in very poorly cut suits at the door wishing to speak to Whoever Is In Charge This Time Around," announced the impressively Amazonian woman. Julia actually became alert. "One of them is tall and lumpily rectangular and the other's short and skinny with no shoulders?" Marilyn's brows rose at the accurate rendition of their guests. "Why, yes." "Oops," declared Julia. "Oops..?" echoed Marilyn and Lauren. `Oops,' generally, is not a reassuring utterance to hear. "It's the Refrigerator and the Weasel, Don Constantine's enforce- er- employees. Show them in, please, Marilyn." Marilyn looked dubious, but complied. Soon the two men, who were as Julia had described them, stood, shuffling a bit nervously, upon the Turkish carpet. Marilyn, after shooting them both a sternly cautionary glance, closed the door to the room, saying, "I'll be right outside if you need me, ladies." Lauren came and sat, cool and poised, beside Julia on the couch. Her companion gazed at the two dark suited men serenely, fingers lightly curled around her Valium salt lick. Lauren hoped she would feel no compulsion to lick the odd blue object while the men were present. After letting R & W fidget for a few moments, Julia asked, "And what might we do for you, gentlemen?" The thugs exchanged glances, then the Weasel, the usual spokesman of the pair stated, "The Don wants to see you." "Certainly. When shall we call?" inquired Julia with a certain stateliness. "Now," rumbled the Refrigerator. "Oh," said Julia, blinking, her fingers tightening on her PTD. "You mean `now' as in `now'?" "Yeah," replied the Weasel, his voice acquiring a bit of an impatient edge. "He's waiting. We got a limo out front." Julia took a deep breath and rose. She turned to look at Lauren. "Would you like to join me, Lauren?" Her eyes widened in appeal. Lauren had to admit she was curious to meet the UF's patron, the previous owner of the Hive. She stood as well, smoothing her skirt. "Why, certainly, Julia. It would be my pleasure." With some trepidation, they left the room, leaving Les, klewless, behind, enveloped in a miasma of cigar smoke, silently mouthing Shakespeare's words. Telling Marilyn they expected to be home for dinner (they hoped), they followed the Don's boys out to the limo parked in the driveway. A short drive later (during which a hissed conversation took place and Lauren finally agreed to unfasten *one* of the bracelets on the cuffs), they found themselves at another stately home, with grounds even more impressive than the Hive's surrounding it. Rather than being led into the house, they were escorted through these gardens to a small planting of grapevines. A canvas awning had been set up over the rows of thick, gnarled vines, laden with heavy bunches of ripened grapes among the dense foliage. In its deep shade an old man, small and wiry, with a shock of white hair, turned from his tending of these vines to smile at Julia and Lauren as they approached. "Ladies, good of you to come. So nice to meet you at last, Ms. Hawes." Lauren had a tiny spurt of alarm that he already knew and recognized her, but smiled in return, murmuring a polite greeting. "Well, we have a little problem." He placed his hand in the center his of his chest. "Bump-bump, bump-bump," he said, and laughed. "Me and all the others... we're mortal again." Lauren and Julia exchanged looks. Not quite sure what to say, Julia only said, "Oh." "It isn't all bad." He turned back to the vines, reaching out to run one finger along a delicate, curling tendril. "My niece, Sophia, with her girls, they make wine for the table. Looks pretty good this year, eh? Despite the morons I got taking care of it. This is the first time in years I get to come out and see to them myself." He peered up as the shading awning, then back to Julia and Lauren, eyes narrow. "But, easy come, easy go, right? A man has to take precautions." "You're... taking this rather well," ventured Julia. "At my age, you have a little perspective. But." He fixed the women with a dark, glittering eye. "But, this can't go on too long. One way or another, things have got to be set right. I'm healthy. Real healthy. But I'm still... old. And trying for another family of my own... well, at my age, people will talk. I don't like talk. The other way would be better. I can *assure* the survival of my family that way." "Is... is there anything we can do?" Julia asked. "I don't know," he stated frankly. "Just keep your eyes and ears open. This probably has to do with..." He waved one hand vaguely about. "...War stuff; you know, that nonsense you get yourselves tangled up in every year, dragging all of fictional Toronto along with you. So, I thought you should know." "Um. Thanks." "No problem. Well, my boys will take you home again. Enjoy, enjoy. Keep the honey off the carpets." Lauren and Julia assured him they would and took their leave. They rode back to the Hive in silence. Once dropped off, standing on their front stoop, Lauren spoke. "Interesting man, if rather old school. He must be quite alarming as a vampire." "I find him alarming as a mortal," declared Julia. "Shoot. I suppose he'll be all right." "Yes, as long as his... business associates don't take advantage of this situation," Lauren replied pensively. "I know there's no way *we* can ... protect Don Con during these two weeks," Julia said with some frustration, "but I wish we could do something..." Lauren's brows rose at the notion of the UFfers protecting the Don, but she nodded anyway. "Maybe you'll think of something, Julia. Let's go inside, you can find your PTD and... meditate on it." Continued later that day, in part 2 From - Mon Aug 16 06:53:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GGrZ-0007ic-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 03:07:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7449; Mon, 16 Aug 99 03:05:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7001; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 03:05:14 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 00:09:25 -0700 Reply-To: Teresita Tazon Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Teresita Tazon Organization: Forever Knight-Vaquera w/ T&V tendencies Subject: WAR: VAQS, "Hanging Out at the Church" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 92839a8e1bb64a3c15d64c40a3fecdf8 WAR: VAQS "Hanging Out At the Church" 01/01 Sunday 8/15/99, Around 4:00 p.m. At Vachon's church/Vaq Headquarters, By Teresita Tazon, Tammy Horn, and Felicia Olivier The Vaquero/as milled around the church that warm Sunday afternoon talking listlessly. The breeze fluttered the tarp that not only stretched across the gaping hole in the roof, but diffused the sunlight as well. This helped to keep the church comfortably cool. It's lack of air-conditioning was no longer a concern. By this time, the Vaqs had settled into their home-away-from-home. The meeting and greeting of new and old friends alike was over, and jello was being continuously prepared to replace what the animals had been licking out of the new moat. Sleeping arrangements had been taken care of, and families telephoned of safe arrivals. Some of the Vaqs had begun their assigned sleuthing duties regarding the strange happenings in Toronto, while the others were still grumbling about Vachon's overly laid-back attitude towards the war. Granted, Javier was human now for the first time in almost 500 years, but enough was enough. This was war and the natives were growing more restless by the moment. "Come on Vaq Wonder Twin," said Felicia, "Let's head outside for while." Teresita had been encouraging Tammy, who was half-heartedly plucking at the strings of her guitar. Teresita rose from her seat on the floor saying "Sure. Sounds like a plan. Tammy, how about joining us?" "That sounds good to me, too." she replied as she carefully laid her guitar aside. "I could use a good stretch. That stone floor is worse than the benches at the Rockapella concert Ter and went to a coupla weeks ago." Leaving the muttering group to their discontent, the three Vaqs walked around the churchyard. They were talking of their various interests as they returned to the main steps and sat down. "I'm glad we're all here, but I really hate to miss my Kenpo classes. Even Kenpo Queens need to practice." Felicia stated as she watched Teresita scrounge through the multi-pocketed black bag that was buckled around her waist. "I know the feeling; use it or lose it. I love archery, but never seemed to have enough time to keep at it. I still remember a lot of it though," added Tammy. Teresita chimed in, "Been there, done that. I had this bunch of kids I taught archery to a while back. I miss it, and I'm getting a bit out of practice myself." The other two Vaqueras frowned slightly as they saw Teresita had lit a cigarette. "That's *really* not good for you," Tammy said, concerned for her friend. "I agree with Tammy. It might have been alright for Janette, but you're not a vampire," Felicia voiced her concern as well. "Uh, besides Ter, I'm really, really allergic to the smoke." "Sorry amigas," Teresita apologized as she moved downwind. "Thanks for caring so much. I've got an online 'little sis' who wants me to give them up, too. She sent me the sweetest message. Poor thing, she was worried I'd be upset," Teresita swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat caused by the warm fuzzy feeling she felt as she realized how quickly she had grown close to the others. "I'm working at it. I've cut back a lot since this War thing started." "That's a step in the right direction." Felicia smiled. "Now, what were we talking about?" asked Tammy. "Oh yeah, we we're getting depressed over our skills deteriorating. Wish I had my archery gear. We could practice right out here. There's plenty of room." Teresita laughed, "I can see it now... Toronto P.D. comes by, sees us with all these weapons, and hauls us off to the big house." Felicia reminded them, "And Javier's hypno-thingy is out of commission. No whammy-us-outta-jail-free card." This increased the friends' giggles. Tammy grew silent for a moment, while behind her glasses, her eyes took on a mischievous glint. "I know what we *can* do..." she began. "What?" the Vaq Wonder Twins asked in unison. They giggled as their voices blended again, "Mind-melt!" Tammy gave them a quizzical look, continuing from where she'd left off before the strange interruption. "I have a plan," she said, drawing them all together in a huddle. "We can go...and buy...and then we'll..." Soon, the Vaqs' loud laughter and shouts of "That'll work," "Kewl," and faint snatches of plans were heard by those inside the church. Tracy Sue, Vaqmommy Extraordinaire, opened one of the big front doors and peeked outside. She was afraid to find out what was so hysterical to her second in command, Vaq-Adjutant (and Kenpo Queen), Felicia, and her Vaq pals. , she chuckled mockingly to herself, The Vaqmommy stepped outside, almost colliding with the trio who were on their way in. "What's so funny ladies? When I hear the words arrows, targets, and church in the same sentence I get a bit anxious." Not giving her troops a chance to answer, she went on "Plus, I'm trying to get everyone to go sightseeing, but no one can agree on where. I don't want to have to worry about you three now, too." Cutting in as Tracy Sue paused to take a breath, Teresita said " Hi Vaqmadre. We were just about to look for you." "We need to call a general meeting right away, Vaqmom," cried Tammy. Felicia hurried to reassure their leader. "We came up with a plan that will take care of the boredom problem. Trust me. You'll like this." Tracy Sue shook her head a bit; what did she have to lose? The four Vaqs returned to the nave, the cavernous main room of the church. Vaqmommy held up her hands for attention, and soon Vachon and all the Vaquero/as were spread out before the four women. Cliff was on the phone, talking to Bre, his wife. Some Vaqueras were still debating the tourist traps, and Echo was trying desperately to interest someone in a game of The Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. Even Vachon wouldn't play with her. His once photographic memory wasn't quite as good with the trivial things as it had been just a week ago. On the other hand, he had been a *vampire* last week, not a mortal. "Do y'all want to do something fun?" Felicia addressed the assembled group. The affirmative replies rose to the rafters. "Okay. I'm going to let Teresita and Tammy tell y'all what's happening." Teresita and Tammy quickly outlined their ideas. There was a happy scramble as the group made their way to the Triumphs. Felicia, Tammy, and Teresita were about to follow the last Vaq out the door when they noticed Vachon hanging back a little. He was fidgeting a bit, looking for all the world like a little boy who'd heard the circus was in town and was afraid he would miss it. "Let's go Javier, or they'll leave without us," Tammy called as she exited into the late afternoon sunshine. "I can go?" the wide-eyed man/child asked. "I wasn't sure... I mean now that I'm mortal and everything..." He hesitated slightly, unsure if he wanted to know the answer to his unfinished question. Blink, blink, and suddenly Teresita had him by his left arm and Felicia had him by the right. They propelled him through the open doorway, affectionate laughter flowing in their wake. "Of course we want you to go silly!" Felicia gave his arm a friendly squeeze of reassurance. "You're *still* Javier Vachon, and we're *still* Vaquero/as. Nothing can change that. We belong together," Teresita insisted as they reached the bikes. Tammy caught the last part of that conversation as her friends approached. "You know what they say, Vaqs in black leather flock together," she grinned, handing each of them each a helmet. Vachon started to refuse the brain bucket; he never wore a helmet. He didn't need one. Oh yeah, that was *last* week, too. Everything was different now. All bets were off. He actually only did it for one reason, though. He had changed his mind as soon as he had seen the pleading silent looks on several nearby Vaq faces. These people, different in so many ways, were united as his followers, and they came through for him time after time. A special feeling of security came over him at that moment, and he knew he would be okay. Whether vampire or mortal, Vachon had loyal friends here. He fastened the strap of the helmet under his chin, and gunned the bike. "Let's move out Vaquero/as," he drawled in a bad imitation of John Wayne. "We're burnin' daylight!" Vachon had waited 27 years to say that, ever since he'd seen The Duke's movie "The Cowboys". His face shown with a light-hearted happiness that he hadn't felt in centuries as he led the way to the We-B-Toys MegaSuperstore. ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Mon Aug 16 06:53:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GGuo-0000yF-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 03:10:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7459; Mon, 16 Aug 99 03:08:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7104; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 03:08:36 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 00:09:58 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: Grandfather, Part II To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 10d43e1eca41a7d2d1f5b47637609563 WAR: UF: Grandfather, Part II By: Julia Kocich and Les GS, with canine psychology supplied by Laurey. Setting: The Hive Time: Late Saturday afternoon, then later that night, August 14th. After: "NA/UF: I Bring You A Message Of Peace (1/3)" and bracketing the events in "UF: Tail End Arrivals." The crescent moon nearly rested upon the horizon as Lauren and Julia took their last perambulation of the day around the garden. Julia, despite her Personal Tranquillity Device, still seemed rather pensive. Lauren had to nudge her with her elbow to bring her from her fugue. "What's the strange clanging sound?" she asked, peering through the darkness toward the expanse of lawn. "Hmm?" Julia looked up. "Oh. That's Laurey lunging Perry. Trash can lid frisbee." "Really?" Curious, Lauren began edging their amble into that direction, Julia absent-mindedly following along. Their path through the garden emptied out onto a wide, grassy area. In its center, dimly illuminated by the moon and stars, stood Laurey. She held a large disk, which, after an impressive wind-up, she lobbed into the air. It sailed off a truly astonishing distance. Perry paused a moment to give it a head start and then bolted after it. His speed was breath-taking. Lauren made her way to stand by Laurey, Julia automatically moving along with her. "Hi, Lauren, Julia," Laurey greeted them. Only Lauren responded. "Hi, Laurey." She watched the antics of the dog, who having caught the lid, was now tossing it in the air over and over, catching it each time with a loud clang. "Can't you use a normal frisbee?" "I could. They get thrashed pretty quickly though and besides, he seems to like to have something with a little weight to it." She eyed the still pensive Julia. "Whassup with her?" "She's worried about the Don." "Don Constantine!? Get real. He survived for years -- many, *many* years -- as a mortal. He'll be fine." "No doubt." Lauren watched as Perry came running back in a stride something between a run and flying, expression joyous, metal disk clamped firmly in his teeth. "I think she enjoys the worrying though." Laurey took the disk from Perry, who grinned at her, tongue lolling. After heaving it out into the darkness again, she smiled and replied, "She does it so well." Julia's eyes automatically followed the gracefully galloping dog and something went `click' in her brain. (With really good ideas, her neurons tended to fire rather loudly.) "Ooh: I know!" she blurted. Lauren and Laurey turned to her, *knowing* they were in trouble: Julia had An Idea. "Tell Perry he needs to change the Don back before his business 'partners' rub him out!" "Julia... um... you know, that's a good idea in theory," Laurey began, casting a concerned glance at Lauren. "But... how am I going to get that across to Perry? It's not like teaching him to fetch, I haven't exactly taught him the "Perry! Bring 'em across!" trick. And I don't think it would occur to Perry to do that unless he really, really liked the person, anyway." Julia had had little practical experience with dogs. She was a decided cat person. Dogs ... drooled. But the one good (and decidedly uncatlike) feature she knew they possessed was that when they were well trained, they did what you asked them to do. "But... Laurey, can't you just *explain* it to him? He did a bang- up job of hiding that manuscript during the last War. Leslie's still looking for her Leatherman toolkit." "Explain it to him how? The manuscript was different, dogs naturally like to play keep-away and hide things--and it was also something solid that I could point to and say 'Take this'. Dogs really aren't good with abstract logic, Julia. Now I'll grant you that Perry's smarter than most dogs, but there are limits." The dog in question returned with the lid, placing it at Laurey's feet when the distracted women didn't take it from him right away. Then he stood there, tail wagging slowly. "How do you know that his abilities aren't as much advanced as the abilities of human vampires are in relation to mere mortal humans?" pouted Julia. Laurey sighed, absently reaching out to play with the tip of the big dog's plumy tail as she resumed speaking. "We could certainly get Perry to *bite* him. *If* the Don threatened us, he'd be Vampire Golden Chow-- but I don't think Perry would stop until he sucked him dry." Julia sighed in frustration. "Well, can we at least try?" Laurey and Lauren shared looks. "Here, you give it a try. Hey, Perry." At the sound of his name, the patiently waiting dog's ears perked up and he rolled his dark gaze in her direction without otherwise stirring. "Perry, Julia needs to talk to you." Julia looked at the big golden dog standing before her on the grass. He lifted his shaggy head and looked at her expectantly, mouth falling open and long pink tongue lolling out in the familiar canine expression that inevitably involved ... saliva. "Um, Perry," she started, then stopped, starting to feel distressingly foolish, even by her own unique standards of foolishness. The friendly chocolate-brown eyes gazed back her, completely devoid of intelligence. `I'm explaining the concept of human mortality and the Mafia to a dog,' she thought. `Thank God no one's videotaping this.' Lauren couldn't stand it any longer. Humoring Julia had its limits. "Julia?" Julia looked up, her own brown eyes showing more stubbornness than intelligence at the moment. "Yes?" Lauren wished she was holding Julia's Personal Tranquillity Device at this moment. It would make things so much easier. "Julia," she began, speaking slowly and clearly, "have you thought this through?" "Perry makes Don Con a vamp again. What's to think through?" "Julia," Lauren went on, making sure she had the other woman's complete attention. "You would have to agree that Don Constantine is a... dignified man." "Yes..." Julia eyed Lauren, puzzled at the turn the conversation had taken. "How do you think he'd feel about being brought over by a dog... even one as... evolved as Perry?" "Oh. Um." Julia did, in fact, begin to think it through. "Well. Well, maybe. If it were an emergency." "He seemed pretty collected, there among his grape vines. Maybe, maybe, if there were some overt sign of risk, he'd consider it." "Well," Julia grumbled, reluctant to give up her brilliant, elegant solution. "It remains an option." "Yes, of course it does," Lauren said soothingly. Laurey rolled her eyes, though she had a certain admiration for Lauren's skillful handling of their volatile Cobra. "And that means Laurey will have a chance to get the idea across to him," Julia said, suddenly cheerful. "Right!" enthused Lauren brightly. "Right," echoed Laurey, far less brightly. "Well, that's all taken care of," declared Julia, dusting her hands together with a melodious chime of handcuff bracelets. "Time for bed, I think. My work here is done." She strode energetically off toward the Hive, leaving Lauren, Laurey and Perry staring after her. The two women looked at one another. "Oy," they declared in unison. "Woof!" agreed Perry. From - Mon Aug 16 06:53:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GGvK-000021-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 03:11:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7461; Mon, 16 Aug 99 03:09:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7127; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 03:09:09 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 00:13:20 -0700 Reply-To: Teresita Tazon Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Teresita Tazon Organization: Forever Knight-Vaquera w/ T&V tendencies Subject: WAR: VAQS, "We Don't Wanna Grow Up" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 977a341cf1c648b5d1b3504ac792f5fb WAR: VAQS "I Don't Wanna Grow Up" Sunday 8/15/99 Time; Right After "Hanging Out at the Church" At We B Toys MegaSuperStore, Toronto (fictional creation) By Teresita Tazon, Tammy Horn, and Felicia Olivier The authors thank Echo for allowing the use of her filk, and for Cliff's suggestion as to the toy-store name. Much was contributed by all the Vaqs. Thanks guys; can't do it without you! Disclaimer: There are several recognizable real-life things used here that the authors acknowledge are trademarked and copyright protected. Our only intent is to enhance the story and have some fun. ============================================================================ Prologue One of the first We-B-Toys MegaSuperStores had been recently built in Toronto. It was huge in scale and dimension. The layout was similar to its American counterpart, but that was where the similarity ended. The only way to adequately describe We-B-Toys was this; A toy store fantasy come to life. It offered its customers the chance to actually try *any* item in its more than abundant inventory. So it was with greatest anticipation that Vachon and his Vaquero/as headed off to the one-of-a-kind Slacker paradise. ============================================================================ = "Into the Tenth War" a filk by Echo Blackthorn, Derived from The Scarlet Pimpernel "When we all go to Toronto, Some by air and some by land. It is only the start, but we know that our entrance is grand. There'll be DPs and the Knighties, Ravenettes watch in the dark. In the start of War 10 we're already making our mark. On our Triumphs, In our leather, We're like bats, Outta Hell. Let us ride, Let us ride to the church with our stories to tell. Into darkness, Into danger, Dodging DPs, Left and right. Won't give in, Won't give up, but give thanks for the start of the fight. BRIDGE # 1 We won't tremble, we won't fear it, We've got that fighting spirit. Cuz we're Vaqs. We'd do anything for Vachon, We'll fight for him with passion. Cuz we're Vaqs. CHORUS War 10 belongs to the Vaqueros, Cuz our brilliant ideas, they do grow. We'll get wilder and wilder, As into the tenth war we go." Singing at the top of their lungs, so that anyone within a half-kilometer radius could hear them over the smooth snarl of twenty motorcycle engines, the Vaqs guided their Triumphs into the parking lot. They parked their mighty fine machines in a single row, until the lot resembled the outside of a biker bar. They sung one more song as they stowed their helmets... "We don't wanna grow up. We are We-B-Toys Vaqs. They've got lots and lots of toys and stuff for Vaqs to play with. Where you can buy a swing-set, that'll put you in debt. It's the greatest toy store there is. We don't wanna grow up, 'cause then we couldn't slack, and we couldn't be a We-B-Toys Vaq!" The group laughed merrily as they reached the entrance of the unbelievable store. Vaqmadre, Tracy Sue, her ever present Whiffle-Bat-o'-Doom slung behind her back, asked for everyone attention saying; "Okay V-Troops, listen up. I want to say something before we go inside." The Vaquero/as shuffled impatiently, but listened attentively to their Vaqmadre. "As a whole, we represent many places, cultures, and beliefs. Above all that, we are Vaquero/as representing Vachon." Tracy Sue nodded in Vachon's direction. Vachon, his arms clad in his black leather jacket and folded casually across his lean, yet muscular chest, nodded back, receiving his due as the Vaqs favorite (ex)vampire. "Thanks, T.S., but what's your point?" he asked, blinking several times. "Simply stated, you should all behave yourselves accordingly, and don't do anything I wouldn't do." With that said, Tracy Sue broke into a not-too-dignified-for-a-Vaqmommy run for the door. "Charge!" she hollered as the doors of the store slid open a split second before she would have crashed *through* them. They couldn't believe they had seen *their* leader do that. She was usually one of those people who liked things calm. Vachon looked at his followers and blinked. Blink, blink. The Vaq Troops looked at Vachon and blinked. Blink, blink. This continued for about a minute. Vachon: blink, blink. V-Troops: blink, blink. Finally, Teresita and Felicia managed to blink at each other. That connection made the Vaq Wonder Twins' power unite, and broke the blinking contest for the two women. They quickly unfazed Vachon. "What was that all about?" Vachon said as he started to blink again. "No!" the Vaq Wonder Twins voiced together, as was getting to be their habit. "We don't have time for explanations!" Teresita exclaimed as she gently shoved Vachon in Echo's direction. "Please, Javs. Just help us unfaze the rest of the Vaqs. 'Kay?" Felicia asked, her voice a sweet Southern and Cajun blend. Vachon reached out and gave Echo a little shake, calling her name softly. "Come on, Echo. Snap out of it." Echo gave a final blink before shaking her head back and forth attempting to clear her mind. Vachon then moved on to Rae, and repeated the procedure. Next was Cliff. Vachon gripped the Vaquero's shoulders and shook him as he had the others. Vachon went on to unfaze to Melissa, Stephanie, and Laplor. Teresita and Felicia made short work of unfazing Tammy, Tabitha, Imajiru, Stephanie, Fiona (Nafs), Erica, and Donna. Once everyone had been returned to his or her original state of mind before Tracy Sue's abrupt departure, they rushed into the store yelling, "Charge!" Seemed they didn't need to worry very much about what Vaqmadre would or wouldn't do. They caught up to Tracy Sue who was playing what sounded like "Jingle Bells" on an electronic keyboard. The Vaqs figured, since it was August and the Christmas holiday was months away, maybe that was the only song Vaqmommy knew. Tammy gently nudged T.S. to the side. "Allow me?" she asked. Tracy Sue nodded and moved off to whisper with Emma. Tammy began playing and was soon lost in her music. The others began to spread out through the enormous building finding something that captured their attention. Teresita went directly to the Nerf toys on aisle 4. Ever the practical one, she wanted to complete the shopping list as quickly as possible. She shrugged as she quickly filled several oversized shopping carts with every weapon Nerf had ever dreamed up. She cleaned the shelves from top to bottom of Pulsators, Super Maxx Dart Blasters, and the futuristic-looking Lighting Blasters. She gathered all the Super Maxx 3000s which shot darts, and the Super Maxx 5000s, which would shoot all types of Nerf ammo. She filled one entire cart with the oversized Wildfire Blaster. The Wildfire was extremely kewl. It held a total of 20 foam darts, and you could shoot forever without reloading. She piled in all the traditional Nerf weapons, as well. These were her personal favorites. The Nerf Archery Sets had a variety of bows that all shot similar Nerf arrows. The last thing she got was The Triple Strike. She had picked it especially for Vachon, in case he decided he wanted in on their fun and games. It seemed tailor-made for Jav, with it's specially designed arrows that whistled piercingly, giving the arrows a screamin' fine ride when launched. Three fins were fitted at the base of each arrow. To Vachon, anything with fins was sexy. If Teresita thought she could get away with it, she'd dress up in one of those mermaid costumes, from an animated film we won't name, and parade around in front of him. Having denuded Aisle 4, she brought her carts up the cash register. The manager asked her if she was ready to pay for her purchases at this time. The manager looked at the woman dressed in a "Got Blood?" T-shirt, a gift from one of her new friends, blue jeans over the tops of her boots and a denim jacket, and his eyebrows began to draw up in a skeptical look implying she couldn't possibly afford all her choices. Teresita stared him down, knowing she had brought plenty of cash, as she retrieved a fresh cart, saying politely, "No, thank you. I've got a few last things to pick up." Traveling through the craft area, Teresita spotted Emma and Tracy Sue. "Hi Vaqmadre. Hi Ems. Anything you guys want to add before I have the manager ring this stuff up?" "Sure is!" Emma replied gleefully, as Tracy Sue commandeered Teresita's cart. Emma and Tracy Sue were both VVPWs: Vaq Veterans of Previous Wars. As such, they knew many odd and various things could come in handy during a War. They began tossing things in the cart with an abandon of a child on an unlimited shopping spree. The craft department had an extensive assortment of shiny pretties, always a good thing since Vachon's friendship with Screed frequently brought the two fun-loving factions into close proximity. Tracy Sue was looking at a Dremmel machine, and Emma was reading the back of a box that had beautiful glass objects on the front. Teresita left the cart with them. As she walked away, she wondered if they were planning to redo the stained glass back at the church. Teresita spotted Cliff who was checking out the marquees overhead. "Aha!" he said triumphantly. He ran down the aisle and skidded to a halt in front of the action figures display. "Hey, Teresita," Cliff called out, "Look what I found! It's from the newest animated version of..." "No Cliff, please! Don't say it! They're great, and so is the flick, but the war could get into big trouble if we say the name!" Teresita stated breathlessly. The movie was a remake of the jungle man who was the 'Baron of the Jungle', or was it 'Prince of the Jungle'? Maybe it was 'Lord of the...' Whatever it was, it wasn't going to be said aloud for fear of very serious copyright and trademark infringements. "Guess this means I can't have a few, uh?" Cliff looked dejected. "I think it would be okay, but just never mention the name. Promise?" "No, problemo, Ter, " Cliff agreed happily. He went off in search of Echo to show her his find. She loved the movie that could not be named as much as he did. He found Echo near the high shelves of the stacked games. "Hey Vaq Sis, whatcha looking for?" "Do you think there's a board-game version of The Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon?" she asked. Now this was a game where you linked one movie or actor to another until finally arriving at Kevin Bacon. Echo had it down to an art-form and was the all-time, undisputed champ. The two searched the shelves. Teresita walked towards sporting goods, drawn by the sound of chanting Vaqs. Once there, she was surprised to see a small-sized baseball diamond where Rae was at bat and JoAnne was the pitcher. The fielders were Becky and Laplor. The Vaqs were yelling, "Aaaaaaaa, batterbatterbatter. Swing!" Rae almost cracked the bat as the ball connected and sailed over Laplor's head. Rae never had a chance to run. Teresita watched in astonishment as Becky jumped in the air and made a spectacular catch. Good thing too as there was a pyramided stack of 11 inch blond-haired dolls in pink boxes directly in the path of the ball. Calling out to her friends, Teresita reminded them to pick up a volleyball set. "Sure thing," Rae said with a wave. "What did you think of my hit? Pretty good, if I do say so myself. We're really getting into the spirit for tomorrow's Blue Jays game." "It was an awesome hit, Rae. I'm looking forward to the game tomorrow, too." Teresita called over her shoulder as she went to find her Vaq Twin. She spotted Maria, Imajiru, Stephanie, and Fiona playing a video game. It sounded as like they were having a good time. They were laughing and the bells on the game 'dinged' as rapidly as a slot machine paying out a jackpot. She turned the corner and had to jump back quickly. Vachon and Felicia sailed by, each on a battery-operated large-sized Jumbo-Wheels Trike. Melissa and Tabitha were close behind, chasing after the wayward pair. The two slowed up as they saw how shaken Teresita looked. "Hey Ter, you all right?" Tabitha asked. "You look a little pale." "Almost as pale as some others we know," Melissa added, as she and Tabs started laughing. "Come on guys. Not funny. My own Vaq Wonder Twin almost knocked me flat!" Teresita exaggerated. "Well maybe she wasn't that close, but they startled me," she insisted. "We were chasing them because it's our turn," Melissa explained, "but I think you need to hear this story first." "A story!" Tabs said, her eyes lighting up. "I love a good story. Is Javier in this one?" "No," said Melissa. "This one is called The Legend of We B Toys." "Cool, more ghost stories. If Vachon isn't in them, then next best is a creepy one." "Okay, sounds good. Just let me arrange payment and delivery with the manager, and I'll meet you at the swings." The friends parted, and Teresita took care of her final pieces of business. Five minutes later they were seated in a single row, each on a swing. They watched Sarah walking across the top of a horizontal ladder on one of the wooden fort set-ups, Erica and Donna cheering her on. When Sarah's balance beam performance ended, the Vaqueras all clapped. Sarah's dance training had come in handy helping her to keep her balance. When it had quieted, and the other Vaqs were back to safer pursuits around the fort, Melissa began her story. "It's said there is something weird about We-B-Toys. You spend a few minutes in the store and you start to feel strange. You get a little giddy and silly, and before too long you find yourself doing what you would do if you were a kid without grown-up restrictions." "'Lissa, that's just a fairy tale. You're telling me Javs and Feleesh are about 8 years old?" "Sshhh," Tabs said, "Let her talk, Ter. This is getting interesting." Melissa, who had plenty of practice at handling interruptions to stories (after all, she had 3 young daughters at home), continued patiently, "Not exactly. They *were acting* like 8 year olds though. It said CEOs and Powers-That-Be become almost infantile. Besides, Felicia dared him to a drag race. How many 8 year old do you know of that will turn down a dare?" Melissa giggled, pushing her swing higher. "None!" laughed Tabitha, thinking of her own daughter, who was soon to be eight. Teresita laughed, too, pumping her swing harder to keep up with the others. She figured there might be some truth the legend after all. Since she had taken care of things regarding getting their purchases to the church, she had been feeling a little more care-free. Felicia and Javier came by on the electric powered ride-ons, saying, and "Come on ladies. Vaq-Sing-Along on aisle 1." They sped away to gather the rest of the Vaqs. Melissa, Tabitha, and Teresita made a bee line for the designated aisle where Tammy could still be heard playing on the keyboard. This War's Vaqs loved to sing. Everyone crowded around as Echo found a doohickey that made drum sounds and Javier grabbed an electric guitar. The band quickly decided on a song. The Vaqs varied, if slightly off-key, voices joining in. "Da-da Da-da-da-da. It's a wonderful thing. It's a worry-free convictionee. Da-da Da-da-da-da." This song about not having a care or problem in this great circle we call life was a Vaquero/as motto and a fitting end to their trip to Toronto's We-B-Toys MegaSuperStore. ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Mon Aug 16 06:53:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GH0D-000174-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 03:16:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5377; Mon, 16 Aug 99 03:12:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7302; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 03:12:47 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 00:14:36 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--Scenes from a Mexican Restaurant To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 19dad44c3e07204ba4e356c5b857ad35 15 Aug 1999 Mordedura's Restaurant Toronto, ON 8 p.m. Disclaimer: All unfamiliar characters contained within are *our* creations. Scenes from a Mexican Restaurant By the Vaq Scribin' Trio: Teresita, Tammy, and Felicia It was with great enthusiasm that the Vaquero, Vaqueras, and Vachon left We B Toys. The toystore had proved to be just the boredom-buster they needed. Now they needed something else. "Oh, guys, I am *starving*," Teresita moaned. A chorus of "yeahs" and "me toos" followed. "Is that what I'm feeling? It's strange. Not at all what I'm used to," Vachon said. "Well, Trace once told me about a great Mexican place near here. Do you like Mexican?" "Ohhhh, Mexican," Tammy's eyes glassed over. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Follow me." The group hopped on their Triumphs and vroomed away. Several minutes later, they pulled up in front of an authentic-looking Mexican restaurant. The sign above read 'Mordedura's'. The group dismounted and entered. Although clean, the atmosphere was very. . .rustic. The furnishings were sparse, and the whole building looked like a fire hazard. The Vaqs were the only ones in the dining room. It was probably a good thing. They shoved tables together and quickly found seats for everyone. They were chattering away when two figures approached. "Javier! So good to see you," one man said with a strong accent. The other extended his hand to Vachon, and the two shook briefly. "Felipe and Jose, how *are* you?" Vachon looked carefully at his two friends. The Vaqs exchanged puzzled looks and blinked. "I'm going by Joe, these days. Ummm, we're err, different, and you? Are you, different, too," Joe asked. "Yes." Realization sunk in. "Oh! Do you mean that they are. . .err ya know, too? Vachon nodded. Echo laughed. "Mordedura's! Spanish for 'bite'! That's a good one, guys!" The two were visibly relieved. "I feared it was just us," Felipe said. "Well, what brings you all here?" "Food!" The Vaq chorus was getting desparate. "Ah, si, si. Look over the menus. We'll get your drink orders." "Hey, where are the others," Vachon asked. "Oh, Rosa is in the back, and Alejandro, Damon, Marisol and Julius are off. We are not busy on Sunday." The Vaqs perused the menu eagerly. Emma frowned. "What's wrong, Em?" This was from Tabitha. "There's nothing here that I like. I reeeaaallly want canoli." Jose turned to her. "Canoli? That's easy enough. Mario's Italian Cafe is just next door. I will happily fetch you some. Any friend of Javier's is okay with me." Emma beamed. "Thank you!" Joe leaned over to Tabitha, taking down her order. He repeated it back, pouring on the accent, "O-kay, less see, the Seniorita would like the vayj-teeble fajitas and a Coke --muy grande. Wheel that bee all, Seniorita? Gracias." "Oh, and guys? We need enough guacamole to denude an avacado tree," Teresita called out. Cliff had taken a seat next to Echo. He politely refused a menu with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head jingling the long dangling ankh earring that brushed his shoulder. As everyone ordered, he pulled a bottle of Big Red(tm) and a pack of cherry Twizzlers Pull & Peel(tm) from the pockets of his black leather jacket. Immediately he began to pick at the soda label with his long wicked-looking pointed finger cuff. He and Echo chatted enthusiastically about the action figure he had purchased. As the band of Vaqueras orders, Echo watched him strip the bottle of its label. He laid the shredded paper aside and stared at the clear bottle of red soda for a few intense moments. Then Cliff stripped a cherry candy from its twisted grouping and with a grand gesture raised it over his head and slurped it into his open mouth then took a swig of soda. Cliff noticed Echo's expression. "What?" he asked pretending to be innocent. "And just what was that all about?" Echo grinned at him. Cliff lifted the candy and bottle up as if in a toast and with an evil smile said, "Blood and veins." Echo cracked up. Echo, who was suddenly exausted, drooped, and finally rested her head on the table. "She reminds me of a doormouse from a child's book," Vachon commented. "I think I'll call her Mouse from now on." Teresita nudged Felicia and Tammy. "We have a mission, guys, and I need your help." The two nodded, and Teresita led them from the restaurant down the street and into a candy shop. "We need four pounds of your finest imported chocolates, please," she told the clerk. "Why do we need that much, I mean, I like chocolate, but isn't that excessive?" Tammy looked unsure. "Trust me, it's very necessary," Teresita returned. Their order was filled, and the three toted their sweet burden back to Mordedura's. By that time, the table was laden with various Mexican fare. There was a sizzling plate of fajitas, some enchiladas, various types of nachos, and canoli. Vachon sampled from each plate, experiencing this way of tasting for the first time in centuries. All was well, and the Vaqs were discussing the advantages of Triumphs over Harleys when the door opened and one of Toronto's finest walked in. "Which of you has a bike with a license plate reading, 'didjgirl'?" Tabitha bounced up. "Oh, that's me!" "You're in a no parking zone, miss." "Oops, I'll just. . ." Vachon stood and said," I'll handle this." He caught the cop's eyes and stared intensely. "You will forget about the parking violation," he intoned. The Vaqs looked at each other. "I know he didn't." "What the hay?" "Oh, brother." "Someone stop him!" Felicia rose from her place and slipped up behind Vachon. She snapped her fingers in his face. "Javier? What are you doin', boo?" ""Did she say 'boo'," Tammy asked. "It's a Louisiana thing," Teresita replied. He shook his head and turned to her. "I'm sorry. I um, I forgot." "He forgot! He's eating food, actual food and he forgot," Melissa said to Tracy Sue. "I hear memory is the first thing to go when you turn from a vampire back into a mortal," she replied. Tabitha trotted toward the door. "I'll just move my cycle now." "Sure miss," said the cop. He turned and wandered out muttering something about long-haired weirdos. Felicia gently pushed Vachon back down in his chair. "You okay?" He nodded. "What? No wisecrack?" She frowned, concern in her eyes. "It looked like you could do without one." He smiled weakly. "Thanks." She nodded and returned to her seat. "Ya know, Trace always said I should keep it from getting away from me, but to lose the whammy altogether? I'm just not adjusting well." Teresita stood. "Well! What do you guys say we get back? I'm suddenly really tired!" There was general agreement, and the group began gathering their belongings. As they headed for the door, Tracy Sue flung an arm around Vachon's shoulders. "Hey, Jav. It'll be okay." He looked dubious. "I hope you're right. I am sorry to put you guys through this. I promise I'll try harder, but it's hard for me. I *liked* what I was." He looked terribly sad. Teresita turned and said, "Okay, we're getting a bit too mushy here. We need something lighthearted, a joke perhaps?" All of the Vaqs turned to Felicia, who had been bringing up the rear. She smiled. "Okay, got one for y'all. There were two women from out of state driving down Interstate 49 from Shreveport to Natchitoches, Louisiana. From the moment they saw the first sign with 'Natchitoches' and the mile distance, they argued about how to pronounce the city's name. The driver said it was 'Knack-i-tow-shus' while the passenger said it was 'Knack-i-toe-shay. This went on for about an hour. Finally, they saw the Natchitoches exit, the passenger said, "Pull off the interstate and we'll go to someplace really close and ask." The driver agreed, and exited. She pulled the car into the parking lot of a diner, and the two women went in. They stood by the counter and waited until a teenaged girl approached them from the other side. "Look," said the driver, "we've been arguing over this for the past hour. Do us a favor and say the name of the place we're at very slowly." The girl looked at the women strangely, but finally shrugged. She said very slowly and carefully."A L ' S C A F E!" The Vaq Troops let out a whoop of laughter, and the too serious moment passed. "I needed that," Vachon said. He regarded his followers for a moment. "I think I need some time alone." The Vaqs looked at each other, and nodded. "I think that's probably a good idea," Tammy said. Tracy Sue smiled. "Okay, but remember, we're coming after you if you don't turn up by morning." "Thanks guys, for understanding and everything." He mounted his bike and roared off. The Vaquero and Vaqueras watched in silence before the mounted their own bikes and headed for the Church. It really had been a long day. Author's note: The actual pronunciation of Natchitoches is as follows: Knach-uh-tish, emphasis on the first syllable. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2 "War! Ha! Good God, y'all! What is it good for? Absolutely nothin'"--'War'--Edwin Starr. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 16 06:53:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GHmz-0006eB-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 04:06:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5453; Mon, 16 Aug 99 04:04:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8450; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 04:04:36 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 04:06:22 EDT Reply-To: BBHinson@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Rebecca Barker Subject: WAR:Cousins: To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 17759ceedde015cad55046bdb81d03f2 This post was meant to drop sometime Friday afternoon. However, due to my uncooperating internet servers (both of them!), this was delayed until tonight. Grrrr..... Date: Friday, 13th August, 1999 Time: Early afternoon (before "Due South part 2" :o) ) Place: CERK Becky, carrying two items of luggage, walked through the doors into the lobby of CERK, and waved to Isabella. It was good to be here, finally. Even though the trip had taken most of the day, at least she was here. Once inside her room, she set her suitcase down, and peered into the other piece -- a travelling cage for her pet. Two yellow eyes stared out from the darkness inside. Becky opened the door and reached in. Almost immediately, she jerked her hand back out. Obviously, her dear, sweet kitty was not as happy as she thought he was. A grey kitten sauntered out, and headed straight for the bathroom. Becky shook her head. Obviously Earl was going to be at home whereever he went. Typical that he was going to lie down in the bathtub. Oddly enough, it reminded her of her husband at home... Becky wondered, idly, what Cousin Tok was going to think about the new arrival. Well, it wasn't as if Earl would be alone. The Cousinly Kitties would be there as well. She walked over to the window and drew back the curtains. All in all, this afternoon was shaping up to be a good one. Apparently not all of the Cousins had arrived yet; the Cousinly meeting would be held when they all managed to show. Becky was curious. It was early enough in the afternoon that even a few of her close friends would still be asleep, never mind all of the vampires of Toronto. There was a little more activity going on at CERK than usual, and she was sure that she had heard the unmistakable rumble of Uncle's voice. Well, no matter... at least not at the moment. Things would be explained at the meeting. Becky smiled. It was going to be a good war. * * * * * * * * * * * * End ~Cousin Becky From - Mon Aug 16 06:53:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GJ1S-0002BF-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 05:25:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9402; Mon, 16 Aug 99 05:23:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1794; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 05:23:38 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 02:53:06 +0000 Reply-To: xina@LIGHTSPEED.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Anderson Subject: War: GSS: At the Cousin Meeting (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cdca9ee3431d9d3001a4183b87b9e5ce At the Cousin Meeting Time: Saturday, August 14th, around 9PM Place: CERK A half dozen GSS agents sat attentively in folding chairs against the wall up near the podium during Tok and Tser's speach. At Tok's revelation to the crowd, of LaCroix's newly imposed mortality, some of the GSS agents nodded knowingly, having discovered the news previously on their partying/fact finding outing of the other night. The agents of the GSS always being eager to keep in step with the situation, in time of any war, had frequented a few interfactional hangouts among them Buckstars and the Raven until they had as much of the story as they could possibly get from hearsay and drunken gossip. The two new recruits, Agents Silver and sHolmes sitting together on the end of their row however, gasped at the terrible news, because they had not yet been briefed. "Magic", Ace grumbled. "Shhhhh." Some of the others shushed trying to hear the end of the briefing. LaCroix continued, "....only that I have confidence in you, my troops, and that any reasonable expenses will be covered. This intolerable situation will not be allowed to continue. Is that clear?" Several GSS agents had to restrain agent Striker from disrupting the meeting by jumping reflexively to his feet shouting, "YES SIR!" They succeded in holding him down bouncing a bit in his seat and muffling his fanaticaly devotional cry. The meeting ended with LaCroix circulating briefly among the Cousins. He eventualy got around to the back of the room near where the GSS sat conversing among themselves about the new information and what their plans would be for finding out more about the Galen's cube, and possibly paying a visit to Nick and those meddling Knighties. "...It was him, its got to be!" agent Ice growled, "I've never seen the Knighties so cheerful... well the regular Knighties, not the Dark Knightie-ish ones so much." "Personaly I wouldn't care if it was only Nick.. or even only the rest of that bunch, But LaCroix?" Agent Ace said incredulously, "Somebody is taking their war pranks too far. Way too far this time! It's like the Lurkers have attacked already or something!" Tami glanced quickly about. "Kim, careful when you say that.." "Well, you guys, we also have to look at this realisticaly." Striker butted in changing the subject back, "LaCroix WILL be a vampire again. Period. He will either be changed back by the use of whatever it was that de-vamped him in the first place, or he will seek out vampires who weren't caught in the humanising field and do it the old fashioned way. Though he wouldn't be as powerful as before in that scenario. So our main goal is obvious." "Help find the rest of the Galen's cube pieces." Agents Silver and sHolmes simultaneously spoke aloud the thought that they all shared. "This still sucks." Ace pouted, "Is there any way we can get 0079 back here?" she added wishfully thinking fondly of adventures past. "Nope, we don't have a working interdementional device." Joe replied sharing her wistfull nostalgia for their group's founding duplicate General from War 8. "Who?" sHolmes asked, puzzled. "We'll explain later" Ace answered. "Wait! I was just thinking." Ice interjected smirking deviously. "There is a bit of positivity in this catastrophy after all! *Nick* is mortal now." "We know Nick is mortal now." Tami replied dismissing the obvious statement. "No, you don't get it. Nick Knight doesn't have vampire powers anymore." She said very slowly. 6 Cousinly faces broke into big evil grins and the GSS agents startled many nearby Cousins with several spontaneous rounds of Mwahahahaha's. "Planning something wicked I hope." LaCroix interjected wearing a shadow of his old mischevious smile. "Perhapse." Striker replied, "It depends on oportunity as well as intent." The General frowned. "...But ofcourse you know all about that." Striker finished, a bit embarased. "Yes, well I want you to keep an ear out on the street for any news of the other Galen's cube pieces." LaCroix finished. "I know that your group excells at that sort of information gathering." "We'll do our best Sir!" Ice replied energeticaly. The General looked them over one last time in a much less imperious and hungry, and much more "fellow human" way than they'd ever experienced and nodded his silent goodbye, turning away back into the crowd of worried, lost looking Cousins. The GSS shared a few worried looks amongst themselves before breaking ranks to go about their own various projects. ----Kim From - Mon Aug 16 19:32:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GN3r-0005GT-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 09:44:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6627; Mon, 16 Aug 99 09:42:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4651; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 09:42:19 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 06:34:10 -0700 Reply-To: Lauren Hawes Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lauren Hawes Subject: WAR: UF: The Premise Hits the Premises (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e8462121da73ba2ffb3dcf9cb2389d6e WAR: UF: The Premise Hits the Premises By: Lauren Hawes, Julia Kocich, Leslie GrantSmith, and Fenris Setting: The Hive, UF HQ Time: Monday, August 16th, Early Morning. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? William Shakespeare, Sonnet LIII As has been known in all times and all places, through all recorded history, the rolling, green and dense, stately manicured lawn of the Hive sloped gently away from the vast house. In the distance, swans glided silently on the pellucid waters of the lake and in its secret depths elvers shimmered and flashed, dreaming of elusive mysteries long since forgotten by all but them in their ancient anguilliform wisdom. The Hive itself, sentient with the long accumulated resonances of the humans for whom it served as domain and sanctuary, was in a good mood. It felt a little shiver of anticipation as a large white van motored slowly into the drive. Although unexpected, the Hive knew somehow that it had been expecting this strange turn of events. Inside the house a woman walked briskly towards the front door, having heard its chime and she thusly went to answer its summons. Her heels tapped lightly down the polished oak floor as she made her way quietly past Megan's room. A wisp of incense curled up from under the door. The other UFfers slumbered peacefully, exhausted by their long journeys, busy weekend, and the confusion that had arisen over which backstory they would need to follow. In the kitchen, a pot of honey, untended, bubbled gently on the stove. Lauren opened the heavy door and walked out onto the marble steps that swept down to the driveway, gazing with relief at the vehicle parked thereon. The familiar blue and orange icon spoke of an epoch, existing in the present, where carefully crafted plans were executed with alacrity and sworn agreements fulfilled in a timely fashion. The woman's heart became suffused with peace and a rare contentment. "Fed-Ex." The dark-haired female driver extended the clipboard. "Sign here please." After claiming her package, Lauren straightened and handed the clipboard back. It was then she noticed the embroidered name patch on the woman's uniform. It read "Dru." Lauren opened her mouth to say something, but reconsidered as a ripple of light appeared around the driver. Lauren watched as Dru's hair began to shorten and her features wavered and changed, scintillating and oscillating in the curving formless waves so beloved by crystallographers. A distant snapping sound was heard. A tall man with dark hair and brilliant eyes took shape in front of the UFfer. He wore a different uniform, cut from a maroon fabric that was rather form-fitting. His dramatic appearance did not unduly alarm Lauren, for she had long resided in the City of Angels, where the unequivocal process of transmutation was a commonplace occurrence. "Who are you?" "I am an immortal spark from the seed-ground of the stars, escaping from the sheaths of substance. And I was never here, nor are you to consider my lack of presence as any sort of residual signifier." "Dude, you're lost. The Castle of Mon Capitaine is further down the road." Lauren pointed east, where brick turrets were faintly visible in the morning sun. At these words, the man smirked and snapped his fingers; the annoying flash of light surrounded him, and he was gone. In his place stood a tiny fawn-colored creature, its slightly moist and bulbous eyes bright with anticipation of a snack. It barked. "What was that flash? Hey, Cujo." Julia had come out on the front steps, cradling a large cup of coffee in her hands; her cuffs clinking musically against the china. "Textual disconfirmation." "Hate that." Lauren sat down on the steps and began to open her package. She upended the box into her lap and a pile of beads spilled out. A rather large mathematically shaped form bounced and hit the step with a flat clang. It was a ... bead? No, not a bead, for no hole pierced its center. A cube? A trinket? An icosahedron? An object encompassing both mass and void? Lauren ignored it and began to compare the clarity of two strands of carnelians. Julia sat down, then reached for the peculiar manifestation of personal adornment. "What is this? It's big for a bead." "I don't know ... sometimes they throw in extra stuff. Freebies. Junk mostly. Stuff from ... Taiwan." "Yeah, but ... what would you call it? I mean, how many sides does this thing *have,* anyway?" "Hard to say. Can we settle on ... infinitely improbable?" "Could you make it into a pendant, with interlinking sections that could become activated and thus add to the mix of intrigue?" "Julia, are you ... yourself today?" Lauren queried, giving her companion an odd look. "Maybe you better lay off the Tranquillity Device for a few hours." But she took the thing back and considered it. It was rather ... lumpy, and the faint and faded etchings of brass that criss-crossed its surface did not add to its appeal. "Not really my taste. You want it?" "Moi? Read my War resume: no piercings, no jewelry." "C'mere, little dog dude." Cujo pranced happily back and forth in the driveway as Lauren tossed him the unnamed and unnameable object, the thing without a significant signifier, the 'what' with no 'why.' "Catch." The Chihuahua pounced. Tugging mightily at the only corner of the object he could fit his mouth around, Cujo pulled and pulled the orthogonally-challenged matrix from the driveway into one of the flowerbeds that lined the front of the walk. The dog scrabbled in the dirt, shoved with his nose, and finally maneuvered the cube into place. Panting, he flopped down beside it. "Cute dog." "Yeah. Want some coffee?" Julia helped gather up the beads, and both UFfers returned to the Hive in search of breakfast. Cujo scampered after them. Nestled in the rich loam of the azalea bed, the unnamed thing sat forgotten by each and every individual obligate aerobe within the confines of the grounds of the estate. But the Hive felt its inchoate presence, its profound yet unspeakable thingness, and was content. *The End* From - Mon Aug 16 19:32:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GN60-0005LS-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 09:46:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6639; Mon, 16 Aug 99 09:43:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4785; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 09:43:48 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 09:45:33 EDT Reply-To: LdyofSable@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Lee Subject: War: NA: Boy Bands R Us (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: aba46cfa736db3f9cb3e3f27a625fef0 NA: Boy Bands R Us By: Jennifer Lee Place: Sacred Shrine to Nunkies Time: Monday Morning, August 16th Kriel, Travis, and Chad used with the permission of their creators. Travis and Chad, the two remaining members of 98 Degrees of Five Backstreet Syncs, were moping by Tiff's empty palette. Their sniffles, sobs, and off-key wailing could be heard throughout the building. The poor guys just didn't know what to do without their leader, or the other three fifths of their group. It was becoming somewhat annoying, to say the least. Jennifer had heard of Chinese water torture, the Spanish Inquisition, the Moorish prisons, but this was worse, much, much worse. Never in her like had she been subjected to such horrible punishment as Boy Band Wailing torture. Couldn't they go into a studio and wail? At least someone could mix it, and it wouldn't sound quite so bad! She had to act, before someone, namely two fifths of 98 Degrees of Five Backstreet Syncs remaining, got hurt. So she did. Putting on her best concerned fan face (which really wasn't very good) she walked over to Travis and Chad and knelt before them. "Hey, are you two okay?" she asked. "Noooooooooo," wailed Travis. "Like, uh uh," sobbed Chad. "They totally took our leader," wailed Travis, his voice a trifle flat. "Like, the other three guys are gone," cried Chad, his voice waaaay too sharp. It was all Jennifer could do not to slam her fingers deep, deep into her ears. Instead , she pulled out some of the trusty earplugs her dad had loaned her and put them in. "What's the point of having 98 Degrees of Five Backstreet Syncs when there are only two of us?!" complained Chad and Travis in questionable harmony. "Calm down, m' boys, calm downm," Jennifer said. "Okay, look. Why don't we give you two something to do until the others get back, okay?" "Okay," Chad sniffed. "Totally," Travis sobbed. Jennifer smiled ingratiatingly. "There's a good partial boy band. Now, until Tiff and your other three fifths get back, I think Kriel might appreciate your help." "Who's Kriel?" the boys asked. "You'll see." And the did. "You want to WHAT?" Kriel demanded when Jennifer had told him her plan. "I want you to take these two and put them to work, preferably at something that doesn't require them to vocalize, until Tiff gets back with the other three band members." "No way," Kriel said. "If you haven't noticed, GROUT is for the undead." "Well, you're not undead anymore, so why don't you just take these two? Unless, that is, you can't handle them..." Kriel glared at the addict and resisted the urge to hiss. "Fine," he said. "Come on, you two. We'll see if you're good for anything." The two members of the now depleted 98 Degrees of Five Backstreet Syncs strode mournfully after the un-undead foreman. Jennifer, on the other hand, immediately ran off to find other addicts, crying, "They've got Tiff!!!" From - Mon Aug 16 19:32:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GNj8-0006xu-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 10:27:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6923; Mon, 16 Aug 99 10:16:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9193; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 10:16:05 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 10:22:07 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: One Woman's Trash... To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0c4def96451efa163ebd8b3359bd64f7 Independent/CGW: One Woman's Trash... By Brenda Bell FOLLOWS: Independent/CGW: Home Away From Home Pen is real and is used by permission. "Miguel" O'Malley, Consuela, Dennis, etc. are fictional characters belonging to the Celtic Glow Worms and Tequila Fiends. Typographic note: I didn't want the server to mess up the posts with the upside-down question marks and exclamation points, so I put right-side-up ones in instead. *************************** Sunday, 15 August, 0900 Eastern Daylight Time, just outside the Fiendish Glow "Garbagio, garbagio, garbagio, garbagio... ?Porque los citizens de Toronto make them tanto garbagio?" Consuela O'Brian-Eccevarrio muttered, making her way through a pile of feathers and papers outside the staff entrance to the Fiendish Glow. Except that they were scattered all across the street, on a Sunday morning, it could have easily been one the results of one of those sidewalk solicitors who handed out pamphlets to any and all passersby. "!Dios! Muy garbagio," she muttered, kicking aside the last papers leading up to the alleyway behind the Glow. The headline on the last one caught the older woman's eye and sped her heart rate to twice it's normal rate... "French Overthrow of Canada Imminent High Food Prices sign of Overseas Invasion" "!Madre de Dios!" the pub cook exclaimed, picking up the flyer and running towards the door. "No anudder coup!" She was so worried about the invasion that she never saw three pair of beady eyes watching her from the dumpster. *************************** 1100 Eastern Daylight Time, upstairs in the Glow Worms sleeping quarters The alarm had rung an hour ago, but Pen never heard it. Caught in a Tequila-induced nightmare of stampeding vampbears, she was too busy fighting off hordes of medievally-dressed teddy bears, eyes a-glow, fangs dripping red, to realize that the even beat of their feet was actually a drum competition from the Halifax Tattoo(1), the recording of which had been sent them by a non-Warring friend in the Knight. The pounding got louder and louder, and the vampbears drew nearer and nearer, their growls sounding more and more like... ...the skirl of bagpipes, coming from right outside the bedroom door, and someone banging like the Devil. Pen's consciousness fought her way past the angry vampbears far enough for her to turn over and rise half-way from her bed. It was a bad move. The second she bore down on her left hand her wrist collapsed on her and she fell back to the bed, holding the injured wrist and whimpering in pain. "Pen! Pen! Are you ok, Pen?" came a sound from beyond the door. "WHAT THE #$(*&@#&$^&@^%!%!!!!!!!!!! DO YOU THINK?!?!?!?!?!" she yelled back, massaging her wrist. The volume of her own voice made her cringe in pain again; and she shrugged her shoulders to her ears to try to block the echoes and the incessant loud cacophony from beyond her door. "Shut that #$(*)#&@)(@^!!!! thing off!" she mumbled, trying to avoid the sound. "What was that?" a whisper peered into her room through a too-bright crack in the door. A muffled moan was Pen's only reply. A few seconds later, the noise stopped. Blessed silence. Then came the light, and someone pushing on her back, rocking her none too gently. "Time to rise and shine, Pen!" it told her. "Breakfast in less than a half hour," it warned. Pen fought her way through the blankets, rising this time on her forearms against the now-subsiding pain in her wrist. She rose to meet a fully-dressed Brenda, more cheerful than anyone ever had a right to be -- particularly at dawn on a Sunday morning. Pen cussed as her fingers ran over a particularly sore spot on her naked wrist. "I told you you should've kept that strapped up overnight," the older woman nagged. "Yeah, babe, yeah..." she waved off. "Well, it's after eleven," Brenda offered, trying to get the morning back on track. A bleary-eyed Pen looked over towards the VCR to verify that yes, indeed, she was running late. "Shower, shower, caffeine, shower, shower...." she muttered, lumbering to her feet and out the bedroom door. On the way out, she collared the kirtle-skirted woman. "Don't you *EVER* do that to me again!" she warned. Brenda looked puzzled. "Do what?" she asked. "Bagpipes in the morning. It should be illegal," she admonished. "Bagpipes in the morning..." Brenda smiled dreamily. "What a *wonderful* way to wake up!" Pen strode off to the shower while Brenda considered the very-non-PG possibilities of waking to the sound of bagpipes with her Very Significant Other lying next to her... ********************************** The Fiendish Glow, 1130 Eastern Daylight Time At eleven-thirty sharp, Pen and Brenda descended the stairway to the pub for their traditional Sunday brunch and staff meeting. Unless there was a lot of business to attend to, the atmosphere was laid-back and convivial... almost a ceilidh type atmosphere. Today, it was tense and quiet. *Something* was wrong... It didn't take long to find out exactly *what* was wrong. Instead of everyone congregating around the buffet, several of the boys were gathered around the Latina cook, who was shaking a flyer between sobbing and spouting forth a mixture of Spanish, English, and Irish obscenities. "I cumm here looking for good life," she sobbed, "and now dees high-price #(*&@^@!! want to cumm tek eet from mee..." "Consuela, look at me," an Irish lilt followed. "There's going to be no French invasion. France and Canada are both members of the United Nations, which is less than two hours' away in New York. If France tried to invade, don't you think the Mounties would be on it in an hour, the army and air force within a day, and a UN peacekeeping effort would be on station within the week?" "Ay dun no," she replied half-heartedly. "Miguel" responded with a soft, soothing stream of heavily-accented Spanish. "What's up?" Brenda sidled up to Dennis, who was standing on the outside of the knot of people that had gathered around the two cooks. "Soam coakuhmeymie insurrectionist pamphleted Toaronto," he explained. "Pat an' Seamus jus' finished swaiepin' oap their gaerbage noa." The woman picked the top sheet off the indicated recycling bin and began reading, cringing at every misspelling, and her brow wrinkling at every turn of faulty logic. By the time she finished, she looked like a water bomb ready to explode. "Whae's sae funny?" the Irishman whispered. "It reminds me of the 'Victims for Vamps' group -- you know, the idiots who believe that every mortal should have the opportunity to be stalked and dined upon by a vamp... that cross-over clinics should be provided in all the provincial universities... that vamp blood should be fed to every person with an IQ over 150 after they've had their 2.3 kids... and be approved as a bona-fide cure for every mental illness known to mankind...(2)" the woman chuckled, remembering her first encounter with this sort of would-be political activists, back when she was a college sophomore...(3) "The person who wrote this flyer has worse than a grade-schooler's sense of spelling, and absolutely *no* understanding of logic!" she shook her head, chuckling. "Whoever would think of taking over a country by replacing its wait-staff?" "The Chuyneese did it buy plottin' in the boxing rings," he reminded me. "Not *quite* the same thing, Cleary," she responded. "Besides, most folk cook at home most of the time, anyway. Or they go to MacBurgers or Harby's. Or they go to a chain like Thursday's or The Olive Grove. Or they come to a place like the Glow... More than half the population can't afford to even stare at the window menu of one of those places mentioned in the flyer." "Opening time," Pen noted, looking at her watch. Outside the Metro entrance to the pub, several dark critters skittered across the poured concrete platform, disappearing into a shadowed corner and up the stairway to the street. ********************************** (1)Yes, there really *is* a Halifax Tattoo. No, I didn't get the non-warring friend in question to record it for me. And no, I don't know if there's really a professional audio or video recording of any part of it available for retail sale. (2)Consider what it did for Joey's intelligence and communication ability in "Fallen Idol"... of course, the withdrawal process ran a lot like "Flowers for Algernon"... (3)I really did run into this type of group -- though obviously not in the vampire arena. It was an anti-nuclear-energy group called "Mutants for Nukes". On Hallowe'en, its costumed adherents paraded through campus, handing out copies of their "manifesto" which included such gems as putting high-level radioactive waste-water in grade-school drinking fountains and using spent fuel rods in living room fireplaces... Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Mon Aug 16 19:32:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GO75-0003N4-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 10:51:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1018; Mon, 16 Aug 99 10:44:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3147; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 10:44:34 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 07:36:19 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA: I Need a Drink! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 924faea9ab78e9258a8ad89bf9e3a0d9 Let's hope I don't screw up the posting of this ***** WAR: I need a drink! Location: Shrine and then Streets of Toronto, Fiendish Glow August 16, around 3:00 am Everybody used with permission *** (The Shrine) Sukh tossed and turned and opened bloodshot eyes at the sounds of the ongoing construction. MacCousin Heather was grinding her teeth in near-sleep. Suddenly she jumped up and began a rather uncharacteristic Scot-Irish red-head temper-tantrum. The strange thing about it was the fact MacCousin had not had red hair in years. "I canna take it anymore!!!! " she wailed. "Bang! Zap! Boom! I can't sleep!" Sukh stared at MacCousin, waiting for her to settle down. Lucius yawned, fluffed out his tail and went over to nibble on MacCousin's feet. "Ow!" Heather whined, like a fussy bride-to-be. She was crankier than usual. Lucius purred, oblivious to the pain he caused. "I think we need to find another place to sleep," MacCousin grumbled. "I need a drink." Sukh picked up her pillow. She had to deal with Heather worrying about wedding arrangements. ***** Ten minutes later, the noisy addicts were packed and ready to find night lodgings. "Should we take the Destroyer of Pencils and Pens?" MacCousin stared at the black cat that had so generously helped them pack, by jumping into their suitcases and shedding black hair amply over their clean togas. "Why not?" said Sukh. Lucius walked into his kitty carrier and meowed. Sukh and MacCousin walked out of the shrine and into the streets of the city. ***** "I guess I should have called a cab," grumbled MacCousin under a barrage of suitcases and a kitty carrier. "Whew," began Sukh moving her bag from one hand to the other, "after so many escapades over the last few years you'd think running around town would get easier." "Every escapade leads us to better understand ourselves," replied the MacCousin in an oddly philosophical tone. Ever since she had been engaged, MacCousin Heather would once in awhile murmur a wise statement or two. However these were usually interspersed with drool, wedding worries and nonsensical crossover tales about a certain spyboy on TV, a certain British agent and his arch nemesis, so whatever wise statement was said was usually lost. At any rate it was better than listening to her whine. Sukh stared at her cohort a moment. "You're scared!" she exulted. "Am not! Am not!" replied MacCousin, with renewed zeal in a brogue she claimed to be Scottish, but actually could also be Irish. The MacCousin used the same brogue regardless. "You're scared of getting married." "I am not," replied MacCousin Heather, she shrugged for a moment and continued in a small voice. "I'm just kind of worried about certain things, like uhm...the shrine as well as the other place we hang out." Sukh looked at the renegade addict. "Have you even told Chris about your activities?" "Uhmmm...no," replied Heather in a tiny voice. "He just thinks I belong to some secret societies." "Argh!" grumbled Sukh, shaking her head. "He has met the Keeper/Destroyer of Pens, right?" "Yes, he likes Lucius," replied MacCousin Heather. "Well, you'd better tell him about NA," said Sukh, "soon!" she emphasized. "I know," grumbled Heather. "I'm meeting up with him at the 'Glow' later. I'll tell him then." "Speaking of the 'Glow'," Sukh's eyes danced a moment. "I need a drink! Let's go and annoy them!" MacHeather grinned. "Sounds good to me, I can figure out how to explain the Shrine to Chris there!" The two plaid-toga'ed, blue-faced women headed up the street. "What does Nunkies think?" asked Sukh. "I'm not sure," MacCousin made another face. "He does know right???" Sukh asked. She and MacCousin had irked LaCroix and incurred the HP's wrath on several occasions. If Heather left LaCroix out of that knowledge loop, well...'that would be trouble.' "Yeah, I told him I was getting married," MacCousin Heather assured Sukh. "He kind of gave me that look. Sort of like when he caught us watching that show that time". Sukh stared at Heather as she continued. "Nunkies asked if that was what I wanted and I said more than anything. He nodded and kind of mumbled something about how almost all of his original not so vestals had abandoned the shrine and he left me there. He didn't say goodbye or anything. In fact it was worse than the time he caught us watching...well you know." MacCousin looked sad for a moment, contemplating the loss of being single in the shrine. Lucius meowed his concerns, luckily the glowing sign came into view. "You did bring the spyboy tapes right?" giggled Heather. "Wouldn't leave home without them!" Sukh grabbed the tapes from her large backpack. ****** MacCousin Heather Keeper of the MacNunkies Tapestry http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/ ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Mon Aug 16 19:32:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GOPN-0001GR-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 11:10:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1127; Mon, 16 Aug 99 10:57:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4624; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 10:57:37 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 09:59:26 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: The Price of Virtue (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 157369ba357ae6c3a23cece6e2c87d8b NA: The Price of Virtue by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Third Cousin Patt, Cousin Tiff (She's Evil!), Bons, Monica, Christy, and RevSam Time: Monday August 16th, Morning (After 'DP:Indiana Janes...' and Tiff's Bail Hearing) Patt hated using her cellular, but she especially hated using it for this kind of call. "Bons...Tiff's bail hearing didn't go so well." "What do you mean? She *did* make bail, didn't she?" "Yep, she and the three toenotes. It's just the bail amount was a little high for our budget." Bonnie took a wild guess. "Half a mill?" Patt blanched. "Good god, no! It's five thousand. It might as well have been half a mill, though. Remember we've got Revenue Canada to think of, which means the NA Bail Fund is a bit depleted at the moment." "Hmm...how much do we have?" "Fourteen dollars and a Nunkies pop." "Hmm...Patt?" "What, Red?" "I'm holding your platinum card..." "Drop it." "But, Pa-att!" "Drop it!" "Tiff's in jai-" "Anybody charges so much as a battery to that card, I'm getting the beer bottle." "Okaaay! I see you haven't picked out your Personal Tranquillity Device yet. Don't worry. I'll get the bail money. Somehow." That's what Patt was afraid of. ****************************************************************** Bonnie and Monica kept their dark glasses on, even inside Bugby's Candy & Pawn Shop (just down the street from a certain Mexican restaurant favored by Vaqs). When Monica looked as though she might straggle near the entrance, Bons clutched at her sleeve and pulled her close. "I can't do this by myself! It's your support that makes me saucy!" "Maybe sauciness isn't what's required, considering..." Monica replied cryptically. They swiftly approached the counter and rang the bell. A tough looking man quit shoveling gumdrops into a canister and gave them his attention. "Yeah? Whaddya want?" Bons answered in a small, meek voice. "I'd like to pawn something." Monica reached out and touched her shoulder. "You don't have to do this, you know." Bons shook her head emphatically. "No, it's okay. I want to. For Tiff's sake. For her boy band. I want to pawn!" Bugby slapped the countertop. "Well, hand it over, and let me take a look." Bons appeared a bit taken aback. "It's not something I can exactly pull out of my pocket!" "Yeah? What is it? A wide screen TV? Something bigger. Let me warn you - I don't do cars." Bons nibbled on her lower lip. "No, that's not what I meant, either." Bugby was growing impatient. "Well, what *did* you mean? Whaddya want to hock?" The Scribe lifted her chin and said matter of factly, "I'd like to hock my virtue." Bugby's eyes widened incredulously, then he burst out laughing. "That's not a good sign," Monica murmured under her breath. Bonnie, naturally, took exception to the shopkeeper's laughter. "Excuse me!" She rang the counter bell repeatedly, while Bugby continued to guffaw. "Excuse me! I don't see what's so amusing! Are you interested in buying my virtue or not?!" Bugby straightened, smothering his chuckling a little. "Okay, I'll give you five bucks." Monica's brows lifted. "Canadian?" "FIVE BUCKS!?!" Bonnie shrieked. "That's highway robbery!" "Nothing of the sort," Bugby explained. "The principle of pawning's simple: you get more cash the better condition something's in. Just from looking at you, lady - and I use that term loosely - I can tell your virtue's been used and abused something awful." "Well, I never!" Bons exclaimed. Monica tapped her on the shoulder. "Actually, Bons, you have. He's got you there." "But not *that much!*" Bons protested. "That's the way it is," Bugby repeated. "Now, I'd give you two hundred for those pumps you've got on, but the virtue? Naaah." Pursing her lips together, Bonnie pointed her thumb at Monica. "What about her?" Monica spazzed. "Bonnie!" Bugby shrugged. "A Loonie." Monica double-spazzed. "WHAT?!?! I'M NOT THAT KIND OF MONICA!!!" In a heartbeat, she was halfway over the counter. "Lemme at him! You're meat! You're toast! You're meat on toast!" Bonnie grimaced as she grappled to halt Monica's rampage. "Look what you've done," she chastised. "You've upset her." "Let me at him! Let me at him!" Haltingly dragging Monica out of the shop, Bons called over her shoulder, "I may be back." Bugby went back to scooping gumdrops. ************************************************************************ Two hours later... Slowly, one pair at a time, Bugby was counting out cash as Bons placed her non-sensible shoes on the counter. Monica had been left back at the Shrine this time, with a sedative, but Bonnie was by no means alone. RevSam was there, praying for forgiveness. "She knows not what she does, Lord." "I know what I'm doing. I have to, Rev," Bonnie said plaintively. "To deliver Tiff and the 98 Degrees of Five Backstreet Syncs from evil." RevSam nodded in understanding, but it was still a painful thing to watch. Especially with all the crying going on. Christy had already gone through two boxes of tissue. "But you cah-han't!! You *can't* sell your non-sensible shoe collection!!!! What will all the little kids in flip-flops look up to?????? NOOOOOO!!!!!!! WWAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!" RevSam moved to console her. "It's okay, Christy," she crooned. "Let it all out." Christy blew her nose and bawled anew. "The horror! The horror!" Bons remained remarkably composed, considering she was waving goodbye to a lifetime of unreasonable footwear. It wasn't until Bugby counted out, "Five thousand," stacked the money in front of her, and moved to pack the precious shoes out of sight that she allowed a sniffle to escape. "Please. Can I just have...*sniff*...one moment to say goodbye?" Bugby nodded, figuring saying 'yes' was the only way he'd ever get these strange women out of his shop. For one last, sweet, sorrowful moment, Bonnie hugged the pile of non-sensible shoes. "I'll never feel the same about any shoes again, I promise. Even when there are bunions, even when I sprain my ankles or straps break, I'll never have with them what I had with you." A single tear trickled down Bonnie's cheek as she lifted her favorite mules. "And you, my little daisy shoes, I think I'll miss you most of all! The good times we had together: throwing you at Spaniards, hitting the Caddy, going to Wonderland, dancing to ABBA....Oh, boohooboohooboohoo!" It was up to RevSam to collect the money - as far as she was concerned it was blood money - and usher the two weeping willows outside. "You'll see them again one day. You'll see. We'll find a way," she vowed. "Now let's go spring Tiff and her toenotes and head back to the Shrine. You'll feel better then." "WAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" *********************************************************************** Fin for now... From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GPkJ-0003QM-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 12:36:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0140; Mon, 16 Aug 99 12:25:45 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4594; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 12:25:45 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 12:12:39 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: WAR: Enforcers: Something Must Be Done (1/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fef85b1e30d238a83b41ad6169081d97 Time: Monday, August 16. 12:00 in the afternoon. Place: Rooftop of Enforcement Headquarters Written By: Enid Rodriguez=20 Enforcer, Twilight Knightie, and Nick Wife # 28 http://www.hometown.aol.com/enidknight Enid paced back and forth across the sunlit roof, her arms tightly folded across her chest. She sighed as she gazed=20 at Toronto=92s skyline. Toronto was just as pretty in the day as it was at night. =93You should have stayed in New York.=94=20 Enid told silently scolded herself.=20 Mortal? How could it be? Enid thought to herself.=20 How did it come about? It could destroy The Code.=20 Something had to be done, something MUST be done. =93Collecting your thoughts?=94 a deep voice rang up from the nearby stairwell. It was The Man in Black, her boss, their leader. Enid looked up at the sky, =93You shouldn=92t come out=20 here Sir. I know your...mortal, but you should keep away=20 from the sun just the same...=94 =20 However, before she could say anything further she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was no use, when he wanted to do something, he did it. =93I don=92t take orders Lieutenant Rodriguez, I give them.=94 Enid nodded respectfully, =93Yes, Sir.=94 The Man in Black glared around him, and=20 after a few seconds of silence he sighed. =93It=92s overrated.=94 Enid pouted in puzzlement. =93What is Sir?=94 =93The Sun, it=92s overrated.=94 He said flatly. His pale skin looking almost white in the light. Enid nodded again, she agreed with that somewhat, being a night owl herself. =93However, the food has been...=94 The Man in black closed his eyes and smiled. =93Wonderful=94=20 Enid growled slightly. She didn=92t like this, she didn=92t like this one little bit. She and the other Enforcers would have to make things right, if only to protect The Code.... and her leftovers. From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GQbs-0005vq-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 13:31:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2334; Mon, 16 Aug 99 13:26:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0233; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 13:26:28 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 12:27:47 -0500 Reply-To: Kalira Isbell Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kalira Isbell Subject: WAR: HAREM: It's a Battle to the Death! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a2af05c15b0e13a5aae4fd8bab5bf5c9 Title: It's a Battle to the Death by: KaliraRael Place: Harem HQ time: after waL s'yhpruM AH-AH-AH-CHOOOOO!! DragonLady stared at the (almost) controlled chaos with watering eyes and a burning nose. Randora stood behind her with her mouth hanging open. Inside the HHQ, war had been declared. Dust bunnies hopped madly in all directions, Estelle (who had arrived shortly after Amethyst) raced madly after them with a broom in hand attempting to corral them. Mostly unsuccessfully. Amethyst was in a corner with a dust rag and can of spray cleaner doing battle with a Dust Devil. It looked like she was getting the better of it (in *that* corner anyway). KaliraRael was perched on a ladder. She had a wood plane in hand and was attacking the warped section of the Demon Door with sadistic glee. "Take that! And *that*! Throw me to the floor, will you?", she howled. Curls of wood shavings littered the floor around her. DragonLady turned to Randora. "I thought someone was supposed to come in and clean the place before we arrived." "They were!" Randora replied. "They didn't. It's been one sorry case of 'if anything could possibly ever go wrong' after another around here." DragonLady nodded her head in understanding. She heaved 1) a sigh and 2) her luggage up the stairs toward her suite. Some things one just begins to accept after a while. She was half way up the stairs when she heard voices. Men's voices. "Careful now. Don't drop it. You don't want *her* to come upstairs and yell at us again. Easy now. Just a few more stairs and.....hold it, I said *hold* it! LOOK OUT!!!!!!!!" CRASH!!! Thump, thump, thump, *thump*, THUMP! BANG!!!!! ..... ..... ..... Randora looked at Amethyst. "What now?" Amethyst looked a trifle nervous, and gave a weak smile. "Um, the delivery people are here to move your furniture?" Randora's face turned bleach white, then red as she raced up the stairs, past DragonLady to the second floor landing. There she stood in shock, staring at her antique armoire lying on its side the top decorator piece broken off, two workmen flat on the bellies on the steps. One workman had a section of broken bannister in his hand. Her face went from red to maroon, then shaded on toward purple. The two workmen scrambled to their feet and began talking rapidly. "It'stimeforourlunchbreaksowe'llbebacklaterbye!" They raced out the door and into the street. Ranodra turned around just in time to see everyone hastily go back to what they had been doing. Deprived of her target, she angrily kicked at a passing Dust Bunny....and missed. "AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!" She stomped downstairs and headed for the kitchen. Surely, there was something *there* that needed defeating!! From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GRLB-0000bi-01; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 14:18:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2620; Mon, 16 Aug 99 14:15:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4316; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 14:15:34 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 13:14:41 -0500 Reply-To: dornhoff@prairienet.org Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Janet Dornhoff, DVM" Subject: War: NP: Bouncing Matilta (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9c1e899e808ca69d476b2c700e9d9f42 Title: Bouncing Matilda (2/2) By: Meg Anderson, Janet Dornhoff, and the NatPack Location: The Raven, then a Limo that goes who knows where Time: Sat AM, as the Party has all but died After much bouncing, dancing, and singing, the NatPack all congregated to a table nearer to the bar than before. This time Mikolos managed to understand *most* of the orders, although no-one could figure out why *all* of Kimberly's whiskey sours were purple and tasted vaguely of rum, or why every other margarita that was ordered was - rather than fluorescent lime green - very carefully layered in colour; red, yellow, green, blue, purple - and tasted more like a screwdriver than anything else. Much of the Pack was bordering on, if not completely, drunk. "You know," Melissa pondered, "Who's gonna drive us home?" "Me!" Meg instantly volunteered, polishing off her - seventh? - Coke (tm). She was nearly vibrating. "No, you're not," about six Packers replied in unison. Meg pouted. "Neither am I," Melissa giggled. Jill cracked right up, and bounced while she laughed hysterically. "Neither is she," Judy added. This only made Jill laugh - and bounce - harder. She did this for several minutes, with the rest of the group giggling at her, getting more to drink, or simply waiting for something to happen. Janet, sipping a hot chocolate that actually had mint in it (sign language comes in handy in a noisy bar), smiled to herself. She was still perfectly sober, but she had no intention of volunteering to drive a dozen bouncing NatPackers in an unfamiliar van unless forced to. Still, going home sounded like a good idea. The caffeine in chocolate could only go so far towards keeping her awake. "Hey, guys?" Her voice almost echoed in the rapidly-emptying bar. The sound system had blown its last fuse in the middle of a battle between straight LaCroix fans trying to play Concrete Blonde, and UFers who'd discovered "Gay Vampire Boogie." [Yes, it's a real song, recorded by Cynthia McQuillin on _Moon Shadows_] Several wobbly NatPackers turned, and Meg's caffeine-soaked head spun so fast she almost flew off the stool. "Can you help me find my CDs? I think some of them got, um, lost, stolen or strayed, as the saying goes..." The Packers fanned out, crawling under tables, behind the bar, and over passed-out partiers. It became like a giant Easter egg hunt, with gleeful squeals of discovery from the back rooms, the CERK booth, and the Men's room. James turned at that last one, looked at the door, and stalked into the back rooms, muttering, "I'm the only male NatPacker here. I don't want to know. I *don't* want to know!" "I see one! I see one!!!" Meg sprang onto the top of the bar, wobbled, and reached up into one of the chandeliers. She caught onto the supports, leaning out over the room, and caught the CD just as her feet slipped in a puddle of purple margarita. Her shriek turned into a Tarzan yell as she swung back and forth in an arc of about two feet. "That's it, next party, we cut Meg off at five Cokes," Melissa quipped. Jill dissolved into giggles as Meg let go and landed neatly on top of a barstool. "Ta Da!" She wobbled again and sat down hard on the bar, between the red and orange margarita puddles. "WHAT is going on in here?!?" The NatPackers turned, guilty and not-so-guilty-but-definitely-amused looks on their faces, as Janette glared down at them. Janet pointed to a stack of CDs on the dry end of the bar. She had almost finished getting the discs back into their boxes, coming up with about forty extras that weren't marked with the Raven or CERK logos, either. "We were just cleaning up, getting ready to go home." "I think," Janette growled, poking at a "Billboards Top Hits 1981" CD as if it were something dead, "that would be a *very* good idea." "Who's gonna drive us home?" Melissa pondered. Three...two...one... Everyone collapsed into giggles. Judy knocked over the stack of extra CDs, and everyone scrambled around trying to collect them and mostly kicking them back under tables and chairs. Janette glared down at them, swearing under her breath in archaic French. "Oh, very well!" Janette stalked over to the phone and stabbed out a number hard enough to make the buttons scream in pain. "I suppose you won't all fit into a taxi." Janet flashed a thumbs-up to Meg behind the bar. James considered going after a CD next to Janette's left foot, realized the position that would put him in, and decided Debbie Gibson wasn't worth it. "I have called for a limo," Janette bit off the words, and if she'd been a vampire at that moment, her eyes would be glowing red. The NatPackers gave a cheer anyway. "You will take your CDs and your giggles and GET OUT!" With that, even the bounciest NPs sobered enough to pick themselves up, grab an armload of CDs, and scurry for the door. Janet thought about pointing out that not all of the CDs were hers, but decided it was easier, and safer, to sort it all out later, when the owners were sober enough to ID them. The NatPackers poured out onto the sidewalk outside The Raven, bouncing, giggling, and talking a mile a minute. A mugger took one look at them and ran the other way. Three cabs headed for the hills. A streetlight blew. In the midst of a debate over exactly *how* an autopsy is really done, the limo pulled up. Black, of course. Tinted windows, of course. And about half a block long. Everything but a hot tub on the back. The driver started to get out to open the door for his passengers, but Robyn had already yanked the door open and NatPackers spilled into the spacious back compartment. Janet bounced into the front passenger seat, trying to remember exactly where Natalie's apartment was. Robyn joined her. Somehow, everyone fit inside and the doors closed. Kimberly began punching buttons at random, opening the sun roof and two windows and turning on the radio and intercom. The divider between back seats and driver was already down, so that a dozen conversations were coming at the front seat from two different directions at once. Judy stuck her head out the sun roof. The passenger radio was playing Doctor Demento, while the front was tuned to NPR. "Um," the stunned driver turned to Janet, who was ogling the buttons and dials around and on the steering column. "Um, where can I take you...ladies..." "And James!" piped a voice from the back. "Okay, let's go!" The chorus of Natpackers made the driver shake a little, but he recovered and pulled away from the curb. "Where to?" "Nat's place," replied Kimberley. "Uh huh, which is where?" Kimberley paused. "Ummm . . . I can't remember." "Me neither." Janet said. "Ow! Jill, don't kick me!" Maureen yelled. "I didn't!" The air in the heat vents started to cool down, and then became almost icy. "Did too!" "Did not!" The heat vent began warming up again, and the radio jumped to a pop station. Robyn spoke up, ignoring Jill and Maureen's (drunken) bickering. "I *think* we turn left at the next set of lights." "Right," Melissa said, crawling into James' lap. He looked startled but didn't complain. "Did too!" Jill and Maureen suddenly burst into giggles. "Okay," the driver replied, switching into the left lane. "No!" Melissa cried, causing James to jump and cover his ears. "We *turn* right!" "Oh, you're right," Robyn replied. "Hey, Lynn - wanna race?" Lady Angst hollered across the back seat. The driver quickly switched lanes and just barely made it into the turn. The radio switched from cutesy pop music to a talk show. Not CERK, unfortunately, so Kimberley kept going. "You're on!" Lynn grinned. "Wait, we weren't supposed to turn there!" Judy exclaimed, popping back inside. "Ready... Set.... *GO*!" The back two windows began rolling up. "Well, should we turn back?" The driver asked worriedly. "Hah! I beat you!" Lady Angst was bouncing with glee. "But seriously, do you think blood actually flows in vampires' veins?" Janet looked thoughtful. "Nahh... we'll find a connecting road somewhere." Melissa laughed. "You did *not*! I want a rematch!" Lynn yelled, bouncing angrily. "Well, that depends. What are you referring to?" Meg raised an eyebrow. The driver looked worried but continued driving straight. The back two windows rolled down again. "Ready... set... *GO*!" Kimberly glanced up from the radio into the front seat and did a double-take. "You know, for a minute there, I thought it was Natalie up there." Robyn squirmed around to get a look. "She's right, you know. Your hair's about right, and the shape of your face..." Janet started to smile speculatively. "I was just thinking... in the dark, do you think I could pass as Nat?" "Ooh! I wonder what this button does!" *click* "KIMBERLEY! The d*mn fridge door hit me in the *head*! .... Hey, coke!" Debra tossed a coke from the small fridge to James, who bounced thankfully, despite Melissa, who giggled. "Probably.... oh!" Understanding dawned, and Meg snickered. Janet stuck her tongue out at Meg. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Meg! I meant that it might be useful for the *War*!" A chorus of "Uh huh, *sure* you did!" rose from the back seat. Judy poked her head back into the limo. "I know this neighbourhood. I got lost in it on the way to Nat's today. We're in the totally wrong area. Turn right at the next intersection." She was really enjoying the night air, not to mention how beautiful Toronto looks at night. The driver compiled with her request. "Noo! Your *other* right!" Judy's yell from outside the limo was very audible, and the driver whimpered and did a reflexive U-turn. Janet grinned and sank lower into the seat. "Although, now that you bring it up, Nick *is* cute." The windows were rolling up and down constantly now, with laughter to accompany their movement. "He isn't *that* cute!" Several people in the back collapsed into giggles. Classical music filled the back, and nearly everyone leapt to change the station. The next station that came on was playing a loud, vaguely mournful, rock song. "Oooh! Teh Kewr! Stay here!" Meg told Kimberley. [Ed: neither 'Teh' nor 'Kewr' is a typo; that is how she pronounces 'The Cure'.] Melissa looked out a window. "Judy, are we going the right way?" "But we might get some valuable information..." Janet continued. "Nope!" Judy called from the outside. "Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me," Meg crooned along with the music. "Judy, any ideas?" Debra asked. Judy was tired of yelling and ducked back into the limo. "Uhhhh.... turn left right here?" The driver (who was becoming rather wild-eyed, Robyn noted), swerved to the left, miraculously keeping the limo on all of its wheels and avoiding anything that might have brought damage to the limo or anyone inside it. Lady Angst fell over, but quickly got up and continued playing with the window buttons. "Aaaahh!" James and Melissa shrieked as they were pushed to the right of the car. Lynn "oomph"-ed when they hit her. They quickly got off so that she could resume her window rolling. Kimberly, Maureen and Jill sprawled on the floor and smacked into Debra, who very nearly spilled her coke. Meg was so deep into the song that she didn't notice a thing, and just continued singing. Judy ducked into the limo again. "I know where we are!!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Just keep going straight for two more blocks, turn left, turn right, and we're right there!" The limo driver grinned maniacally, stomped on the gas, ignored every bit of signage, and made it to Nat's apartment building in record time. He slammed on the brakes, jolting everyone out of their seats and onto the floor. "Ow." *thud* "Will whomever that is on my arm please *get the hell off*????" "Help!" "%$#@!! I think I'm sitting on your coke, Debra." *crunch* "Is that *my* leg, or Judy's?" "That's your leg." "Robyn, I'm stuck." "Agh!" One by one the members of that elite group known as the NatPack fell out of the limo. They'd just closed the door when the driver sped off into the night. "We didn't even pay him!" James said with disbelief. Jill shrugged. "We seem to have that effect on a lot of people." James nodded. "I noticed that." "He'll probably send the bill to the one who called for the limo in the first place," Janet grinned. The 12 Packers trekked up to the apartment, and, suddenly exhausted, collapsed on their sleeping bags. They were asleep within minutes. -Janet "You're only young once, but you can be immature forever!" From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GSIz-00038n-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 15:20:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3131; Mon, 16 Aug 99 15:09:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1060; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 15:09:58 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 10:44:00 -0700 Reply-To: Lorna Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lorna Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Post Party Depression 1 of (?)8/14/99 PM To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1b55e29f0810ffabc586baa6edc96e3e Ravenettes: Post Party Depression 1 of (?) by Lorna Sat Aug 14th late afternoon Starting at the Raven and then all over Toronto Kathy used with Permission Lorna woke up with a groan. The party had been a blast even with that awful music from the Nat Pack. It wasn't until she tried to roll over and felt the pain shooting up from her hips that she realized that she had forgotten her pillow. The darn thing wasn't stylish but it helped ease the strain on her hips when she slept. Muttering to herself about a shopping trip as soon as she was able to get out of bed she started the time consuming task of getting up out of bed on a bad day. The thought of shopping brightened her mood considerably though. In a relativelly short time she is dressed in a black silk dress and she is ready to go. She remembered Kathy saying something about needing some stuff as well since her Garment bag had been lost by the airlines. Quickly locaating Kathy she lets her know the game plan and the two are in short order out the door and in Lorna's van. Kathy behind the wheel the two Ravenettes prepare to hit the stores of Torornto. With Lorna navigating the two only get lost once or twice on their way to their first and least glamorous stop of the day. "What do we need at a medical supply store, Lorna?" "I forgot my pillow and this is the only place I can think to get a replacement." After quickly explaining what she needs to the person in the store she soon has the wedge shaped pillow and the two can quickly venture to the more fashionable stores in Toronto. "That is sure an ugly looking pillow Lorna." "I know Kathy, but a little material and you will never recognize it. It sure is comfortable for sleeping though." "Since the Raven is on the way why don't we drop this off and see if any one else is awake?" Kathy always came up with good ideas so back to the Raven we went. From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GSNW-0003Nn-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 15:25:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9303; Mon, 16 Aug 99 15:20:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2086; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 15:20:03 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 13:55:36 -0500 Reply-To: dornhoff@prairienet.org Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Janet Dornhoff, DVM" Subject: War: FoSsiLs: We know who's *really* in charge here! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9e452a6dfdcafdfd36c5397ed403a9c7 Title: Greeting the Lord of the Manor By: Janet Dornhoff Time: Friday afternoon (between "Settling In" and "Sleep, Socks, and The Raven") Place: Natalie's apartment As the Pack spread out through Natalie's apartment, the Forever Vet knew there was something more important to do than search for dark chocolate. She glanced around the room and spotted Sydney watching the group from behind the couch. She sat down on the floor next to the arm of the couch and carefully went about greeting the true owner of the house in the proper catly manner. That is to say, she studiously ignored him. In the midst of all the hustle and bustle, Sydney was drawn to the island of calm. Janet gently extended her hand, looking at the cat indirectly (a direct stare would be a challenge) and speaking calmly and sweetly. "Hello there, Sydney. Would you like to come say Hi?" Sydney casually strolled over and took a delicate sniff of her fingers, ears forward, tail held high. He could detect at least two other cats, plus lingering traces of a number of others. There was a faint scent that reminded him of Natalie when she came home from work -- latex, antiseptic soap, lingering steel and formaldehyde. "Can you smell Lois and Clark? Those are my cats, back home." Of course he could smell them. Cats were continually amazed at how weak humans' noses were. Surely they realized that if a chemical test could tell whether someone had held the metal of a gun in the last several hours, a cat's nose could tell what sort of metal it was. Even with the obnoxious perfumes in lotions and soaps, they couldn't hide their stories from four-foots. Sydney rubbed his chin along her fingers. A scent gland near his jaw released his own personal perfume, giving the hand his seal of approval and mark of ownership. Accepted now, Janet began skritching him behind the ears. Relaxing, Sydney stepped up into her lap and snuggled in. Before long, he was purring so loudly they could probably hear him back home in Champaign. Janet spoke quietly to him, giving him a run-down of potential FoSsiL help back in Illinois, including the vet school. "If you guys are anything like my little ones back home, you probably know Natalie's password from watching her log on so many times." The cat purred louder still. He not only knew the password, he knew exactly how to get the modem on-line and log onto Natalie's account. He also had a hidey-hole behind the fridge where he could slip outside without Natalie's knowledge. If their pet humans were in trouble, the FoSsiLs were quite capable of getting involved, although they would probably keep to the shadows unless absolutely necessary. After all, it was so much fun to watch the humans play-fight like kittens. They could tussle all they wanted as long as no one bit too hard. Thoroughly buttered up, with the names and locations of several new contacts, Sydney got up, stretched, yawned hugely, and gave the human one last rub before strolling out of the room. Janet snatched a few M&Ms the next time the bowl went by, and settled into the corner between the couch and the wall. She could catch a little sleep before the party; she probably wouldn't be getting much in the next few days. She could still hear the purring faintly from somewhere beyond the couch, and it lulled her to sleep. -Janet Dogs have owners; cats have staff. From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GSiS-0001Ho-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 15:46:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9437; Mon, 16 Aug 99 15:34:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4149; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 15:34:18 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 12:35:05 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR: Nothers: Ratsies in the Stone Work 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c23c5a5a8a0081b4be65216d3416c56b Title: Ratsies in the Stone Work 01/01 written by Fleurette B. Place: Chateau des Autres Time: Saturday, Aug. 14th, shortly after "The Morning... ah! Afternoon After" Disclaimers: Fleurette, the ratsies & and the voices of Libby & Screed used by permission. >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Fleurette sat in her office staring at the strange pendant in her hand. On the desk before her were RSVPs for Monday's Grand Opening, left ignored in favor of the necklace. "Odd," she whispered again. "I wonder where is came from?" "Squeak!" came an answering voice... from the closet. It was accompanied by the sound of numerous shuffling feet. Curiosity peaked, Fleurette crossed the room to the closet and threw open the door. The sight which greeted her caused the prgnant woman to scream loudly. "Rats! Rats! Where did they come from?" She stared at them--a group of 20 lil ratsies--in shock. "Where did you come from?" she asked the one who appeared to be the leader. "Squeak!" he answered her. The other ratsies just blinked. It kind of reminder her of Vachon. Vachon, she thought, an inkling itching at her brain... "Screed!" she exclaimed in excitement. Of course, that was it! Screed could come and take the lil ratsies away. All she had to do was contact him, but how? "Oh, i wish Libby was here..." she muttered. "Libby! that's it! I'll call Libby!" Rushing back to her desk, Fleurette pulled open the bottom drawer. There, in a plastic sack, was a special project she'd been working on for several months now. When she became Scout Mistress for the Nunkies Scouts, Fleurette had discovered that with the title came a great deal of responsibility. Time and time again, she'd found herself in situations where she needed phone numbers--Bonnie's, Julesy's, Patt's, LaCroix's even--and she never seemed to have them on hand. So it was that the Scout Mistress began the slow and arduous task of compiling a complete listing of useful phone numbers. She'd dubbed it "The Prepared Scout's Guide to Emergency Calling" and if ever there was an emergency, thirty ratsies in her closet two days before the Chateau's debut in FK-dom certainly qualified. The Guide had several numbers for Libby. One for her work, home, Merc Central, and Screed's cell phone number. Of course, this was War and Libby wouldn't be home or at work. Fleurette decided to try the Mercs first. No answer. why was she surprised. Merc HQ changed locations every year or so. Who knew how old the phone number she had actually was. That, of course, left Screed. Sighing, Fleurette dialed the number. " 'Ere's Screed jammy-jammin' at yer!" came the carouche's voice when he finally answered the phone. "Screed?" she began. "Ummm... hi." " 'Ello? Wot ya be wantin' Screed fer?" "Ummm..." she was always nervus talking to Screed. Mostly, this was because she could never understand him. "This is Fleurette, Libby's friend. Do you remember me?" "Aye. Oi 'members yew. Yew wants tew flap yer jaws h'at ma Libs-mate?" Before Fleurette could tell him that she actually wanted to talk to him, Screed's voice was replaced by another familiarly squeaky voice. It was just as well, she inwardly sighed. She didn't know if she could have explained the problem to Screed anyway. Trying to keep calm, despite the fcat that she could still hear the ratsies squeaking in her ears, Fleurette told Libby about her little visitors and explained the dilema Nothers would be in if their "guests" were not vacated by Monday. "I don't know how to say this," Libby said, dropping out of Ratpacker-ese for a moment. "Screed can't help you, Deb." "What do you mean, he can't help?" Fleurette asked. "He's mortal," came the reply. "Mortal? How is that possible?" "Nobody knows. But he's mortal. So's Vachon." Fleurette was beside herself at this point. "Then how am I going to get rid of them before the Grand Opening?" she asked. "I dunno," Libby replied. "Speed-E-Terminators?" she suggested. The End but continued in "A little Peace Might be Nice." by Fleurette B. fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GTMr-0003Gh-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 16:28:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3986; Mon, 16 Aug 99 16:11:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2292; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 16:11:18 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 16:10:53 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS/RP: There's Profit in Pesticide To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f6fe8dbc2414ae5b8e36a247b386449e WAR: MERCS/RP: There's Profit in Pesticide (1/1) by Laurie MercBard and Libby with thanks to Brenda Bell Everyone used with permission! Time: Monday afternoon Filk verse to the tune of Bill Sykes from Oliver The GHP stared with satisfaction at her computer screen. "Good first verse," she chortled. "Should annoy those Nitnatpickers no end." She began singing ... Factions barely know we're playing Inside Nat's flat we'll be staying We might even be decaying Cause everyone knows that we're ... "YIKES, WHAT WAS THAT?" The VOICE suddenly emerged, waking up F. Hugh, who had been dozing on the computer monitor. The GHP looked down in annoyance, then jumped back shrieking as a dozen rats, looking quite pleased with themselves, emerged from under her desk. F. Hugh began flitting and diving, and the rats promptly dispensed, running every which way, including up the Poobah's leg. "WHAT ARE THOSE RATS DOING HERE? WHERE'S THE HOUSE MOMMIE? WHERE ARE THOSE INSIPID RATPACKERS? WHERE IS SCREED? GET OFF OF ME!!!! MY LEGS ARE NOT MOUNT EVEREST!!!!" Laurie swatted at the rat perched near her knee. Sara suddenly entered, carrying a rolled-up newspaper in one hand, and dangling Libby and Michele from the other. Barnabas had been left in Screed's care in the tunnels. Laurie glared at the two miscreants, who took one look at the GHP and began wailing. "Tell her!" Sara ordered Wails and glares. F. Hugh, sensing entertainment, took time off from chasing rats to pay attention. "Why are these *creatures* here?" the GHP demanded. Sara wasn't sure if she was referring to the rats or to Libby and Michele. Johnsie, who was trotting behind Sara trying to grab all the shiny pretties falling out of Michele's and Libby's pockets, stopped in mid clutch and looked into the GHP's eyes as pitiful as possible. He came close to mirroring Barnabas' Basset sorrow. "H'it h'aint OUR fault!" "When there's rats concerned, it is ALWAYS your fault," the GHP growled. "H'it h'ain't this time," Michele said. "Yeah," Libs echoed. "H'it h'ain't h'our fault Screed's caroucheness got broke." "What are you jabbering on about?" the GHP said in exasperation. "Tell her EVERYTHING," Sara said, shaking Libby so hard various coins, tokens, and bits of aluminum foil fell out of her pockets. Johnsie pounced on them. "But H'all o' the vamps h'are mortal now," Libs cried. "'Least h'all tha' were h'in ol' Hog-TO-BonBons when h'it 'appened. Wit' Screed bein' all mortality loik, the ratsies are rampagin'! Johnsie n' me, we think Kenny moight be leadin' 'em. Kenny's a nasty ratsie, tha' h'one h'is." *THUD* Sara suddenly deposited the two Ratpackers on the floor, opened the office door, and whistled. Ramona and George, the adorable but demanding Merc Central house cats bounded in. Laurie glared. "Where did these two *adorable* but *demanding* house cats come from??!!!" she howled. "Didn't they read the sign on the door that said No adorable anything allowed? Except me, of course," she added as an aside. "Same with demanding; I've banned the use of the word Gimme in Merc Central by anyone but me." "I'm house-sitting them for the summer," Sara explained. She glared at the Ratpackers. "And since it looks like we're going to need some pest control around here ..." "Yes, of course," the GHP growled through clinched teeth,"because you ARE pests!" All three Ratpackers began to protest loudly and insistently. Their cries echoed through Merc Central. Sara began yelling, "QUIET!" while thwapping them with a rolled up newspaper. "BAD Ratpackers. BAD!" The shouting and the thwapping suddenly ceased, as everyone noticed the Poobah had gone pensively silent. Those $ signs were coming out of her eyes again. Sara caught a few and put them in her pocket. "Get all the Mercs at HQ in here right now," Laurie ordered. When all available Mercs had gathered in her office, she issued a stream of orders. "I want you to go out and buy up all rat traps, rotentcide, pesticide, and fly paper within a 100 mile radius of Toronto. All of it. Every single bit. I want to corner the market on every single product that can control this ..." here she shuddered ... infestation. "In fact, I want you to go out and buy up every extermination company in the area, as well. The other factions are likely to be looking for that stuff. There's profit to be made! Now, MOVE!!" The assembled Mercs nodded and filed out, followed by the three no-longer forlorn Ratpackers. The trio stood in the main hall, staring after the departing Mercs. All three wore mischievous grins on their mugs ... uhr, faces. "Didja 'ear tha'?" Johnsie said. "Sure did," Michele cackled. "They think tha' h'all that quackery h'iz gonna control h'all the lil' rampagin' ratsies?!" Libs howled with laughter. "Tha's the best thingee Oi've 'eard since the last time Oi listened ta a would-be polly-tician runnin' fer h'office. They maze make sum shiny pretties from those uther factions, but tha's the sum o' h'it, tis h'is. Won't do 'em innygewd 'bout ratsie riddin', though." All the lil' ratsies within hearing distance joined in with maniacal laughter. Especially Kenny. * finis* From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GUBZ-00009v-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:20:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2785; Mon, 16 Aug 99 17:17:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0219; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:17:52 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 12:32:52 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR:Nothers: The Morning... ah! Afternoon After part 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f1e1a8b2c4cade141ae512803e053438 Due to RL hassles, Fleurette was unable to post this on time. She's sorry, but here it is now! NightDancer >>>>>>>>>>>>> Title: The Morning... ah! Afternoon After part 01/01 written by Fleurette B. Place: Chateau des Autres Time: Saturday, August 14th, 1:00 PM, the day following the Raven party. Disclaimers: Mrs. Connors & Andre are Nothers private property & not real people. They don't care if I use them in this story. I'm my property, so I'm using me anyway! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Fleurette moaned as she sat up... very slowly. She had a killer headache and motion sent a wave of mild nausea through her tummy. this wasn't because of any hangover, however. In fact, Nothers fearless leader hadn't imbibed so much as sparkling water the whole night. Mornings just weren't her thing these days-- atleast not until that first glass of orange juice, good breakfast and her multi-vitamin. "Morning, baby," she muttered to the child growing inside her as she finally opened her eyes and stared at the alarm clock which had not gone off. It read "1:00" in big, red digitized numbers. "Afternoon, baby," she reiterated. "After the Grand Opening, I promise-- no more late nights. Mommy just can't handle them right now." She dressed and headed down the stairs in search of food. As Fleurette neared the bottom of the stone stair case, she could hear the sound of Andre, Nothers' chef, throwing someone from the kitchen. His voice was raised to frightening levels. She rounded the corner just in time to see Mrs. Connors face the kitchen door as it slammed in her face. "Ms. Fleurette!" The kindly older woman said in a near worried tone, "will you please tell that man to let me in there?" Fleurette sighed. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Connors. We really *should* have warned you. Andre doesn't like people in his kitchen." "Then how am I going to fix brunch for all of you night owls?" the house keeper asked. "Like this," Fleurette said, approaching the kitchen door. She pressed a red button located on a panel by the door. A buzzer sounded and the chef opened the door, blocking any entry with his body. "Yes, Meez Fleurette?" he asked in a gruff voice. "Brunch for me, please, Andre," the faction leader said politely. "And maybe you could have something ready for when the others start living again?" Andre wrinkled his brow at what could have been construed as a direct order. "Yes, Meez Fleurette," he said again, closing the door in her face. "See?" Fleurette said to the housekeeper. "Easy, wasn't it?" "I suppose, dearie, but I still wish he'd he let me in. I feel as if I have nothing to do." Fleurette had to sympathize with the old woman. When she'd been hired, she'd been under the impression she would be performing your typical housekeeping duties--cleaning, making up the rooms, fussing after her tenants like they were her own children... cooking. While she actually did most of these things, Andre abjectly refused to let her go near his kitchen. >>>>>>>>>>>>> Sometime after a sumptuous and low calorie brunch, Mrs. Connors returned bearing package wrapped in brown paper. She held it out to Fleurette, saying, "The nice boy at the gate just brought this in. There's no address on it, only this note." The white scrap of paper she handed her boss said simply, "for the owner." "I guess that means it's for me," Fleurette said. She waited until Mrs. Connors left to open the box. Inside, wrapped in green tissue paper, was a strange pendant on a gold chain. The Pendant was smooth surfaced with god and silver etchings upon it. They seemed to be some sort runes. "Odd," she whispered, setting the box aside and rising from her chair. "Mrs. Connors," she called out. "Where did you say the gatekeeper found this?" The End Fleurette B. fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GULy-0001I5-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:31:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0627; Mon, 16 Aug 99 17:22:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0772; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:22:37 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 14:22:23 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Roz Rides Again To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d372c09b83bca833060338372f55f092 Knighties: Roz Rides Again by Chris Rosmini The Loft Late Saturday afternoon, shortly after "This Little Light of Mine" Named Knighties used with permission "Where's Chris?, I need to know how to start the pump on the fountain" Liz called from the top of the stairs. "She's working on the skylight." "She's down in the garage, unpacking those cactuses." "The manual's in the Radio Shack" came simultaneous replies. "You know, I hate to say it but I think you'd better be Roz again." said Beth, who was helping Chris R. hump said cacti out of the elevator at that very moment. "Does anybody know why the freight elevator is shut down?" she asked the room at large. "I think a couple of people are sleeping in it." Sue said. "After that all-nighter in the Radio Shack they need some peace and quiet." "Been there, Done that, Have the psychic scars to show for it!" Chris said. "Called myself Roz that is, not slept in the elevator, although that's not such a bad idea. It took me _months_ afterward to figure out who I was when I did what. I'm still answering e-mail addressed to somebody else. It's very disturbing," she said _very_ seriously, "You start with a little e-mail, pretty soon you'll be getting her phone calls and before you know it she'll be wanting her own credit card." She negotiated a tricky maneuver between a toolbox and a pile of folding chairs. *This War is going to have enough Identity Crises going around as it is.* she thought, remembering the revelations of the preceding night, "Nick likes that name, 'Roz'." said Sue, who really understood the pressure points, but had avoided the cactus transport team out of disinterest in inadvertent acupuncture. "Tell me again why we need more than one of these things." "I'm telling you it'd be another fracture in my Tenuously Integrated Personality." she said, carefully sliding the plant onto an already overloaded table. "And after last time I just had a feeling we might want spares." "You're a Gemini, fragmentation is part of your nature. You'll get used to it in no time." Beth said unsympathetically as she dodged Sue who was now trying to locate the ringing phone. "Ummm-hmm, that's what they said about driving a stick shift on vacation last year, and there are probably French drivers cursing my name to this day." said Chris as they headed back to fetch yet another cactus. Sue unearthed the cordless phone, which had been trying to hide under a pile of luggage, and spoke with it briefly. "Hey, there's a message for Chris ...." she said with long pause and an evil grin. "Guy want's to know if he can have that article for the journal a month early." "Horticultural Society or Medical journal?" Chris asked warily. "It's the plant one." Chris R. looked around her at the preparations for War, the busy Knighties, thought about the ex-vampire they were there to protect, thought about writing five pages on periclinal variegation and grinned. "Oh well, OK, Tell 'em Chris is out of town for a couple of weeks. 'Roz' is here for the duration!" **************** Chris Rosmini (aka "Roz") chrismin@earthlink.net Knightie Co-Warleader From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GUTW-0003Y8-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:39:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0682; Mon, 16 Aug 99 17:29:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1474; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:29:48 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 14:31:38 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR:Nothers: A little Peace Might be Nice. 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d6dbb5b21eefdbe261ceb22e95844fa8 Title: A little Peace Might be Nice. 01/01 written by Fleurette B. Place: Chateau des Autres Time: Sunday, Aug. 15th, after my story "Ratsies in the Stone Work" & "I Bring You a Message of Peace" (by Bonnie Rutledge) Disclaimers: All people used by permission. Speed-E-Terminator is a concoction of my own making. if you need to use them, just ask. The Fanfic Fairies are property of Nunkies Anon. But Bons *did* say thta when we figured out what we wanted, the fanfic fairies would deliver. The Snixco catalog is also NA property, courtesy of KC Susan Nix. But since I'm not only Nothers but NA, of course I have my own catalog. Use it all the time! >>>>>>>>>>>> Fleurette swore vehemently. Normally, she didn't curse, but in this case, she sort of felt justified. She'd just gotten off the phone with Speed-E-Terminators... for the thrid time that day. First, they said she couldn't come out on a Sunday. It was the only day they didn't work. *Then* they said they'd come... but only after she promised to pay double for their normal services. Then *they* called her... saying they couldn't find le Chateau. "Oh, brother!" she muttered angrily. "How stupid can some people get?" Vivily remembering how many times the man on the phone had asked "where?" when she'd repeatedly given him directions the resort, her eyes fell on the coupon Ted and Shele had dropped off earlier that day. Fleurette smiled when she thought of how handsome Ted looked in his leather ensemble. It was almost enough to melt her tense muscles. And Nothers faction leader *had* been tense lately. She wasn't sure if it had to do with the baby, the war or stress over the rats in her chateau. Whatever the cause, though, Fleurette had cought herself on several occasions desperately desiring a really good massage. "Massage!" she exclaimed happily, grabbing for her Snixco Mail Order Catalog . She began flipping thorugh the book, fingers flying at the speed of light. There were numerous hand-held, electical massage units to choose from. The she spotted it-- The Snixco Deluxe Massage-In-A-Box . "This is what I want," she said, tapping the ad with her index finger. **poof!** Instantly, two glittery fairies appeared before her. Between them, they carried a medium sized box sporting the Snixco label. She thanked them and then they were gone. Sadly, before she could open the box, the men from Speed-E-Terminator arrived. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> "What do you mean, you *can't* find any rats? There were nearly thirty of them in my closet just a few minutes ago!" Fleurette nearly exploded as she faced the three men standing before her. "I'm sorry, ma'am," their spokesperson said. "But we just can't find any." "They're hiding!" she exclaimed. "Go find them!" "Ma'am," he said again, "I'd hate to be the one to point this out, but your walls are made of stone. Where do *you* propose they are hiding?" "I suppose you're tellingme that you're not going to do anything about them?" Fleurette asked. The three men shook their heads. "Then I guess you can go, but *don't* expect me to pay you for services you didn't perform," she told them angrily. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Back inside her own private rooms, Fleurette took the Massage-In-A-Box and opened it. Instead of a hand-held machine, however, was a smaller box and an instruction sheet. "Just add water," she read aloud. Shrugging, she headed to the bathroom for a glass of water. Returning, she read the instructions one last time before adding two drops of water to the box. **POOF!** Instantly, the box became two human beings, one male and one female. "Hello!" they said in unison. "I'm Tony and I'm Tanya. Thank you for ordering the Deluxe Massage-In-A-Box from Snixco." >>>>>>>>>> The End Fleurette B. fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:42 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GUz0-00031O-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 18:11:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1046; Mon, 16 Aug 99 18:07:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6456; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 18:07:50 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 18:08:24 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: WAR: Enforcers: Something Must be Done (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d4161f4c698b3d65994971564082db6f Place: Enforcers HQ Time: 6:00 in the evening Written By: Enid Rodriguez All enforcers used with permission Even After a lengthy chat with the Man in Black, and the arrival of her captain, Raven. Enid didn' t feel any more at ease. The HQ wasn't buzzing with it's usual gossip and planning, something wasn't right. Something was very wrong. Jen, Technical Lieutenant of the Enforcers noticed Enid's grim face. "You looked pissed, what's up?" she asked casually. Enid looked up at Jen, who was slightly taller than her. "Something feels off." She answered quickly. "Well, hot wings will do that to you..." Jen quipped. Enid shook her head, "It's not that Jen, it's something else." Raven, the Enforcement Faction Captain appeared from her office. Which was the second largest one, next to the Man in Black's. She watched the two enforcers chat. Enid looked uneasy, almost angry. She figured she better address this now. "Enid, may I have a word with you in the main conference room?" Enid swallowed the lump in her throat, "Yes, Sir. Coming Sir." Enid followed Raven into the conference room, where a black oblong table reflected the room's track lighting. Raven offered Enid one of the leather chairs. "Please, take a seat." Enid sat down, "Thank you Sir." "Up to now the other factions have been so busy with each other they haven't noticed *us*. However, the time has come to make the enforcers known." Raven said. Enid nodded in agreement. Raven then pressed a button a spoke into the intercom. "All enforcers in the main conference room, now." Raven then sat back and crossed her legs. One by one they filed in. Raven made eye contact with each and every one. Finally, the Man in Black appeared. "Everyone, please...sit down. We have lots to discuss." Sugar, Spice, and every little vice. That's what *THIS* crazy chick is made of! Supply Lieutenant of The Enforcers, EnidKnight LadyEnid Lady Enid's Forever Knight Page (Enforcers, Twilight Knighties, and Nick Wife #28) From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:45 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GVcJ-0004gZ-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 18:52:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3612; Mon, 16 Aug 99 18:48:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1229; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 18:48:27 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 18:51:41 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: A Knightie Flight To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3df06e43ea201eb21b6e8f86490b953f War: A Knightie Flight by Sandra Gray Time: Aug. 13th, starting in early morning Places: Virginia, Washington, D.C. and Toronto Sandra pushed up her glasses and looked down at the ground as the plane departed from Weyers Cave airport, suppressing her vertigo to catch a last glimpse of the ground and her family. They had not been thrilled that she was going to Toronto, Nick's free airfare notwithstanding. She thought wistfully of the Saturday yard sales she'd be missing. And the county fair started on Sunday. But the Knighties needed her. Nick needed her. *Maybe I won't be gone that long.* In Washington, D.C. Sandra changed flights for the next leg of her journey to Toronto. She avoided looking out the window this time. Her feelings were mixed when she finally arrived in Toronto. She was glad to be there to help, but she also felt a strange foreboding as she headed for the loft. Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GW22-0002XK-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:19:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3797; Mon, 16 Aug 99 19:16:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4081; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:16:56 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:20:38 -0400 Reply-To: Beth Leitman Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Beth Leitman Subject: WAR: MERC: "Mercs, packages, and chocoaltes, oh my!" (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ef4e6c328624ee55d442ba9e22fef8d9 This is a multi-part message in MIME format. ------=_NextPart_000_0014_01BEE81C.6C2A6A80 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Title: Vaqs, packages, and chocolates, oh my!=20 Date:Monday, August 16 Time: 6:15 p.m.=20 Note: All used with permission.=20 Beth glanced down at her wrist as to check the time, then realized that = she had forgotten to put a watch on. Great, well, she had left HQ = fifteen minutes ahead of time, so she should make it to the church on = time. Showing up late for your first job with the Mercs wouldn't exactly = go over well. <> She thought with a = shudder. No, that would be a very bad thing. Her luck held, though, and = Beth made it the vaq HQ right on time, 6:15 exactly. Running a hand = through her red hair nervously, she removed her green sunglasses, and = headed into the church.=20 "Beth, isn't it?" A brunette asked with a smile.=20 "Yup," She answered, nodding her head. "You're Teresita, aren't you?"=20 "Got it in one." The Vaq extended a hand to the Merc she had hired. Beth = shook it, smiling.=20 "Pleased t'meet ya..and..um..everyone else."=20 "Oh, sorry! This is Felicia, Tammy and Tracy Sue.." Teresita indicated = the other three Vaqs standing nearby.=20 "Nice t'meet you all as well.." Beth shook everyone's hand.=20 "You know, with that outfit, you could almost pass for a Vaquera.." = Tracy Sue said to the Merc with a laugh. "Can I help it if I like to wear leather?" Beth asked with a shrug. She = slipped her black leather jacket off, and slug it over one arm, clad = just in a T-shirt, pants and boots now.=20 "I'm sorry to break up the conversation, but if we don't go we'll miss = the Blue Jay's game." Felicia reminded everyone. =20 ------------ Later that evening=20 Beth sat cross-legged on the floor, petting Javier's cat, Carmensita = with a hand. The cat purred and rubbed up against her, tail twitching. = Beth frowned. She didn't mind the job at all, it was just that she had = expected the delivery to be here already! It was nearing eight o'clock = for the gods' sakes! But, she considered, the payment of 3 pounds of = chocolate was sitting right over there... No, she shook her head. Snatching a few of the candies wouldn't be the = best idea. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she leapt up = to open it.=20 "Stay there.." She murmured to the cat, hoping it didn't get the urge to = run outside. Carmensita sat down in the spot were Beth had been seated, = and stared at her, unblinking.=20 " Finally!" Beth exclaimed, turning the doorknob. "What took ya so long?!" "Sorry, miss.."The delivery man sounded slightly upset. "Just been a = busy day.=20 "Yeah..so, the packages..?" She was handed a clipboard and a pen.=20 "Need to sign for it first.."=20 "Oh, yeah, no prob." After scrawling her signature she gave the items = back to the man. He then stepped back, moving a hand towards the = numerous boxes.=20 "They're all yours!"=20 "Whoa whoa whoa..don't think so, buddy. Aren't ya gonna take 'em = inside?"=20 He shook his head. "Sorry, only deliver them. Don't carry them in.."=20 "Great, just great." She muttered darkly, along with a few other = phrases.=20 --------- A little while later, close to an hour, Beth was back in her previous = spot, and all the boxes were tossed in a corner. It had started out = neat, then the Merc had just gotten tired and given up, opting to just = get the boxes in. Her job was mostly done, now she just had to wait for = everyone to get back. Which would be..sometime.. <> Beth thought to = herself.=20 The End ------=_NextPart_000_0014_01BEE81C.6C2A6A80 Content-Type: text/html; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable
Title: Vaqs, packages, and = chocolates, oh my!=20
Date:Monday, August 16
Time: 6:15 p.m.
Note: All used with=20 permission.
 
Beth glanced down at her wrist as to = check the=20 time, then realized that she had forgotten to put a watch on. Great, = well, she=20 had left HQ fifteen minutes ahead of time, so she should make it to the = church=20 on time. Showing up late for your first job with the Mercs wouldn't = exactly go=20 over well. <<And it would probably upset the GHP>> She = thought with=20 a shudder. No, that would be a very bad thing. Her luck held, though, = and Beth=20 made it the vaq HQ right on time, 6:15 exactly. Running a hand through = her red=20 hair nervously, she removed her green sunglasses, and headed into the = church.=20
 
"Beth, isn't it?" A = brunette asked=20 with a smile.
 
"Yup," She answered, = nodding her head.=20 "You're Teresita, aren't you?"
 
"Got it in one." The Vaq = extended a=20 hand to the Merc she had hired. Beth shook it, smiling.
 
"Pleased t'meet = ya..and..um..everyone=20 else."
 
"Oh, sorry! This is Felicia, = Tammy and=20 Tracy Sue.." Teresita indicated the other three Vaqs standing = nearby.=20
 
"Nice t'meet you all as = well.." Beth=20 shook everyone's hand.
 
"You know, with that outfit, = you could=20 almost pass for a Vaquera.." Tracy Sue said to the Merc with a=20 laugh.
 
"Can I help it if I like to = wear=20 leather?" Beth asked with a shrug. She slipped her black leather = jacket=20 off, and slug it over one arm, clad just in a T-shirt, pants and boots = now.=20
 
"I'm sorry to break up the = conversation,=20 but if we don't go we'll miss the Blue Jay's game." Felicia = reminded=20 everyone.
          =             &= nbsp;           &n= bsp;=20
           &nb= sp;           &nbs= p;            = ;            =    =20 ------------
Later that evening
 
Beth sat cross-legged on the floor, = petting=20 Javier's cat, Carmensita with a hand. The cat purred and rubbed up = against her,=20 tail twitching. Beth frowned. She didn't mind the job at all, it was = just that=20 she had expected the delivery to be here already! It was nearing eight = o'clock=20 for the gods' sakes! But, she considered, the payment of 3 pounds of = chocolate=20 was sitting right over there...
 
No, she shook her head. Snatching a = few of the=20 candies wouldn't be the best idea. A knock on the door interrupted her = thoughts=20 and she leapt up to open it.
 
"Stay there.." She = murmured to the=20 cat, hoping it didn't get the urge to run outside. Carmensita sat down = in the=20 spot were Beth had been seated, and stared at her, unblinking.=20
"
Finally!" Beth exclaimed, turning the doorknob. = "What=20 took ya so long?!"
 
"Sorry, miss.."The = delivery man=20 sounded slightly upset. "Just been a busy day.
 
"Yeah..so, the = packages..?" She was=20 handed a clipboard and a pen.
 
"Need to sign for it = first.."=20
 
"Oh, yeah, no prob." After = scrawling=20 her signature she gave the items back to the man. He then stepped back, = moving a=20 hand towards the numerous boxes.
 
"They're all yours!" =
 
"Whoa whoa whoa..don't think = so, buddy.=20 Aren't ya gonna take 'em inside?"
 
He shook his head. "Sorry, only = deliver=20 them. Don't carry them in.."
 
"Great, just great." She = muttered=20 darkly, along with a few other phrases.
 
          &nbs= p;            = ;            =     =20 ---------
A little while later, close to an hour, Beth was back in = her=20 previous spot, and all the boxes were tossed in a corner. It had started = out=20 neat, then the Merc had just gotten tired and given up, opting to just = get the=20 boxes in. Her job was mostly done, now she just had to wait for everyone = to get=20 back. Which would be..sometime..
 
<<There really are advantages = to wearing a=20 watch..>> Beth thought to herself.
 
The End
------=_NextPart_000_0014_01BEE81C.6C2A6A80-- From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GW5a-0005tb-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:22:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1587; Mon, 16 Aug 99 19:20:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4336; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:20:44 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 18:22:31 -0500 Reply-To: litemoon@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Prince Subject: WAR: CUZ: Lions and Tigers and Human Vampires, Oh MY! (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4d9154936060d2c17e675a4fd438d819 WAR: CUZ: Lions and Tigers and Human Vampires, Oh MY! (1/2) Time: Saturday, August 14th, after Cousinly Meeting After: WAR: CUZ: Meeting of Cousinly Minds and WAR: GSS: At the Cousin Meeting Place: CERK, the Cousinly War Room Characters: Cousin Lisa, Cousine Celeste, Cousin McLisa, Cousin Marie, Cousin Bean, Cousin Becky and Tizzie the Cat Please note: Nicolas Chevalier and his novels are Lisa's creation from War 8, and have a penchant for showing up in every war since that one. His novelizations are all in good fun and are not meant as anything other than a bizarre commentary on the War. LIONS AND TIGERS AND HUMAN VAMPIRES, OH *MY*! (1/2) By: Cousin Lisa Prince and Cousine Celeste Cousin Lisa and Cousine Celeste stood in the corner attempting to go fairly unnoticed. Ever since Cousin Becky had run off to tell everyone about the 'Toujours LaCroix' fanzine, they were waiting to be cornered by LaCroix-fanfic-crazed Cousins...not to mention a very probably irate LaCroix. They had meant for the whole TLC-zine operation to be fairly covert. Lisa, of course, had snuck another one of Nicolas Chevalier's new novels into the meeting. Cousinly meetings had a penchant for being a bit boring unless LaCroix himself was chairing the meeting. Since none of the Cousins, as far as Lisa knew, had seen LaCroix yet, she figured that seeing her favorite vampire was fairly unlikely. "The Life of DeTroix by Nicolas Cheveliar..." 'Hmmm,' thought Lisa, 'looks like Nicolas has created a new character.' "DeTroix was distraught, distracted, devastated and generally depressed. His entire, exciting, existential existence had been turned upside-down, topsy-turvy, whoopsie-daisy, and iggy-wiggy. Everything that he thought he was had changed, morphed, generally become screwed up. "'DeTroix,' Wok said, 'I'm not exactly sure how to break this to you, but you're just a human... a simple, sweating, blood-filled, faulted, b-o capable man in need of a shower...or a very large stick of deodorant...my GOSH, what a stench! Dude!' Wok turned and hurried out the door before she was overcome by the venomous, vaporous fumes slithering off of DeTroix being. "'Oh, the horror, the horror,' sobbed DeTroix as he dropped his head into his hands and sobbed like the wimp that he was. How had this happened? He was always so special, so virulent, so masterful, so menacing, so marvelous and now, now he had...oh the horror...body odor.'" "Lisa...*Lisa*...LISA!!!" Celeste yelled into her ear. "What? What?" Lisa asked, still chuckling in a rather evil, nasty manner. "It was just starting to get good." "'Good'?" Cousine Celeste cast a jaundiced eye at the book Lisa clutched possessively to her bosom. The cover showed a man with eyebrow-pencilled eyebrows over piercing eyes, and a very weird, white-puff-topped haircut, clutching the hilt of a fancy sword. A full, astronomically correct moon hung like a rancid cantaloupe just behind his right ear. Bizarrely, just below his chin was a smaller version of the same guy, except this time the fellow had tiny blood-dripping fangs protruding from his closed mouth and a half-clothed babe leaning against his left shoulder, two tiny bite-marks on her long, swan-like neck. He seemed to be wearing a motorcycle jacket. She suppressed a shudder. "That's a whole new definition of the word 'good', one I never heard of before," Celeste said. "But, check it out, this meeting is starting to get good. That would be 'good' in the more traditional sense, of course." The two Cousins stopped talking and started listening. There was a lot to hear. Cousin McLisa wandered up to the Cousinly pair where they stood at the back of the room absorbing the new wrinkle in LaCroix's existence -- and if one thought about it, the soon to follow new wrinkle in his skin if they didn't find a way to solve this problem. McLisa held a laptop computer in one hand and what could only be a Zombie Beachcomber in the other. She was being followed, or possibly watched, by her cat, Tizzie. Noticing her, Lisa nudged the Cousine in the ribs, and got an *eep!* in reply. Celeste rubbed at the sore spot, then did a double-take when she, too, saw McLisa standing there. The Cousine had spent half of War 9 chasing McLisa from mantlepiece to chandelier to the couch, then back to the chandelier when the McCousin had, for some reason, decided that she was a cat. Celeste relaxed noticeably when she saw that the McCousin wasn't washing herself with her tongue or hacking up fur balls. "I guess you've been to the Cousinly bar," Lisa said. "My cat Tizzie always says, 'When in new environs, roll around on the floor,'" replied McLisa as she put down her laptop and her drink and rolled on the floor for a few minutes. Celeste clapped her hand to her forehead and sighed, "Oh, nooooo; not again!" Tizzie, the Cat, pointedly turned in the other direction, made a gesture at her human with one hind leg and walked away in a haughty manner. "There," said McLisa, standing up and joining her friends. "Finally took care of that pesky itch. You'd think a CERK shirt would be enough to keep out a mosquito, wouldn't you?" McLisa took a long pull on the zombie beachcomber, then added, "My cat always says with a CERK shirt, it was probably a vampire mosquito." Cousin Bean, Cousin Becky and Cousin Marie, who were standing nearby, gave McLisa a worried look before moving slowly away. Bean turned to Marie and Becky and said, "Some people just shouldn't be allowed to drink." Lisa and Celeste simply glanced at each other knowingly. Lisa raised an eyebrow and said, "Yup, definitely Zombie Beachcombers." "...with a cat nip chaser," added the Cousine. TO BE CONTINUED ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Mon Aug 16 19:33:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GW7o-00060P-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:25:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3838; Mon, 16 Aug 99 19:23:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4656; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:23:03 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 18:24:45 -0500 Reply-To: litemoon@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Prince Subject: WAR: CUZ: Lions and Tigers and Human Vampires, Oh MY! (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 22c496db7c6dde18bfd79461bb599b62 WAR: CUZ: Lions and Tigers and Human Vampires, Oh MY! (2/3) Time: Saturday, August 14th, after Cousinly Meeting After: WAR: CUZ: Meeting of Cousinly minds; WAR: CUZ: An Afterthought, etc. Place: CERK, the Cousinly War Room Characters: Cousin Lisa, Cousine Celeste, Cousin McLisa, Cousin Marie, Cousin Bean, Cousin Becky, Cousin Wulf, the GSS, Tizzie: McLisa's-cat, and Gozer the Gozarian. LIONS AND TIGERS AND HUMAN VAMPIRES, OH *MY*! (2/3) By: Cousin Lisa Prince and Cousine Celeste When the announcement concerning LaCroix's current state of existence was made, Lisa and Celeste looked at one another and began chuckling evilly. Oh, the thoughts running through their minds were decidedly Cousinly. LaCroix would have been proud of them if those thoughts hadn't been about what the Cousinly pair could get away with now that he was human. Their chuckles got a bit louder and they started to get looks from the Cousins around them. Cousins Becky, Bean and Marie moved a bit further away from them. "First the other one rolling around on the floor, now these two apparently going insane," said Becky. "I think someone has got to keep an eye on that trio," Marie added in a whisper. >From the front of the room, Tok asked, "General, is there anything you wish to add?" With the announcement of his presence among them, every Cousin in the room had turned to look at Uncle. He stood tall, bearing up under the scrutiny, all of ten feet away from the dastardly duo. Their evil chuckles turned into a big, wide, evil smiles, and the two moved in to get closer to their now-human Master. McLisa, who had been standing next to them calmly sipping her drink, fell into step behind them, as did Cousins Becky, Bean and Marie. Unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on your point of view--before they had a chance to close in on LaCroix, Cousins Bean, Becky and Marie waylaid them. "Hey!" said Cousin Bean, "aren't you the ones with the neat party-favor?" "*Gulp*! Party... favor? What party favor?" said Lisa innocently. "Yeah!" said Cousin Marie, "a pamphlet or a book or something called 'Toujours LaCroix', with a really sexy cover! You're Cousin Lisa and Cousine Celeste, right? Where can we get our War gift? Cousin Becky told us all about." With that Becky nodded, smiling exuberantly. "Why, what *ever* are you talkin' 'bout, darlin'?" said Celeste in a really phony Southern accent that fooled nobody. "Mah lil' ol' name is Cousin MarySue, an' this heah is mah lil' ol' sister, Cousin Betty Lou; how d'you do? It's mah very first Wah, and Ah'm just rarin' to get out there and cause some lil' ol' mayhem, y'all." She batted her eyelashes. McLisa, a true daughter of the South, turned and stared hard at the Cousine with narrowed, displeased eyes. "Uh, yeah," said Lisa. "We...I mean...us'in were plannin' on... plannin' on dumping a great 'ol big 'ol load of, uh, chitlins, whatever the heck they are, on little 'ol Nicky's big 'ol apartment. Ya'll come back now, ya' hear? Gotta go!" She and Celeste scurried off, disappearing into the crowd, McLisa tagging along behind them. "Hmph!" said Cousin Marie. "Yeah, right," agreed Cousin Bean. "That was a great 'ol big 'ol load of something, but it wasn't chitlins." "I don't get it," said Cousin Becky, "I definitely saw those zines." TO BE CONTINUED ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Mon Aug 16 19:34:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GWEf-0006IX-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:32:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5612; Mon, 16 Aug 99 19:29:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5042; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:29:05 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:30:21 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Let Slip the Dawgs of War (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5dbfc063d827b7ab7b2e379aeff1ce92 WAR: NA: Let Slip the Dawgs of War (01/01) by Third Cousin Patt and Cousin Jules Time: Sunday, after 'One Pensive Post' and concurrent with 'A Bit of Perspective' Place: Jules' Apartment; the Shrine; a club at the Docks, and...the docks Jules got off the elevator and heaved a sigh. It was nice to be in the peace and quiet of her high-rise apartment building, safe from ex-Vampire construction workers and plaster dust that would, without fail, clog her pores. Now that was a thought. Finally managing to find her ring of keys - which contained a very beaten up, plastic-encased photo of Nunkies in black leather jacket (she would have to get it replaced) - Jules opened her apartment door and was met by the Masters of Doggie Excitement, Watson and Devo. They fairly knocked her down in trying to greet her, but she didn't mind. Having a dog around always seemed to put things in perspective: what was important, what wasn't, and who your real friends were. One thing was certain: unlike that small part of the cosmos, otherwise known as *men,* you would never wonder about a dog's loyalty, devotion and love. A dog would never leave - well, unless he saw a bone he couldn't refuse and, in the process, happened to get lost. You didn't have to wonder if a dog was thankful for your efforts - you could see that for yourself in his wagging tail. "Sheesh," the HP sighed as she scratched behind two pairs of ears, "I've gotta stop watching 'My Boyfriend is a Vampire'!" Patt's pal, Fred, was there, but he remained ensconced in a comfy chair. He turned briefly way from the latest agility offering on "Animal Planet" to let Jules know of his presence. The MiniPin then decided to do his version of the Flying Wallendas, jumping back and forth over the 'chasm' between his chair and another, just because he could. Well, that and the fact that he knew the human's arrival heralded the all important *din dins.* A short time later, and she'd fed and watered her canine companions and gathered a few 'necessities' for life in the war zone: her latest Lancome 'gift with purchase,' clean towels, and a large tube of nail glue. Having given each dog several hugs and good-bye kisses, she was soon out the door and on her way to The Docks. About 20 minutes later, Jules pulled up to the Docks complex, parking the Jeep in a less than well-lit section of parking lot. She didn't like it, but the busy-ness of the complex didn't allow one to be choosey when it came to parking spaces. she told herself, trying to keep confident and not let the isolation of the parking accommodations get to her. she answered herself in her mind, Finally locating a club that looked somewhat interesting, the HP settled in for a few minutes with a vodka tonic and waited for her fellow addict to arrive. Her eyes scanned the darkened club. Nothing of particular interest, though she was enjoying the music. For a moment, she thought she recognised a head of shaggy dark hair. "Nah," she said, "it's got to be your imagination Jules..." ************************* A couple of hours later.... With a last cryptic question concerning rodent population, Vachon had left the company of the two Nunkies Anonymous members. Leaving Jules alone to tend to a sloshed Third Cousin. "You are a sight," Jules admonished, but in a kindly tone. "We need to get you home and to bed." Patt's awareness level was not quite nil. She drew back from Jules' suggestion with fear in her reddened eyes. "I . . . I can't go back to the Shrine. Not with *Spark* there. He'll kill me." "If he were intent on bodily harm, he'd have done it by now, I imagine," Jules explained carefully. "He's probably been there since Friday." Patt shuddered. "Doesn't matter. I ain't goin' back and you can't make me." Jules tapped the table, considering options. "I'll post you a bodyguard." Patt shook her head. No dice. "I can get one of Kiki's buff boys to watch out for you," Jules offered coyly. Patt shook her head again, but not quite as firmly. "I'll throw in a case of Bud." "Done!" Patt shook the HP's hand. Jules rose to leave, but Patt remained seated. "What now?" Jules inquired, arching an eyebrow. "I'm just waiting for the merry-go-round to stop," Patt grinned foolishly at the HP. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After securing Patt's keys and making sure the maroon Chevrolet pickup was locked, the women headed for Jules' Jeep. The parking lot was even darker and more deserted than when Jules had arrived, and she felt a familiar prickle of warning touch at her spine. "How far to the ferry?" Patt chimed out loudly as she wobbled along. "Oh, but for Cerberus at moments like these," Jules said, enjoying that she got the punch line this once. "We should be so lucky that you'd go play with the Cousins." "Hey," Patt noted through her drunken state, "YOU invited me to join NA." "Join, yes," Jules nodded in remembrance. "Infiltrate . . . that's another matter." "Well, if you wanted *filtered* addicts, ya shoulda got a Brita ," Patt quipped. "Which, brings me back to the water issue. How far to the fer . .?" Patt halted her speech when she took note of Jules' face. The HP wore a decidedly apprehensive expression. "Company," Jules said softly. The addicts were close to Jules' Jeep . . . perhaps some fifty yards away. Three nocturnal-looking men dressed in black were leaned up against a dark blue Monster truck, watching the women's approach. "Tommy Lee Jones they ain't," Patt observed, sobering quickly. "Want to turn around and go back the other way?" "That would probably be prudent," Jules agreed. "But, I don't think we'd make it." "Helluva time for LaCroix to go mortal," Patt said, verbalizing Jules' same thoughts. The HP fervently wished that, at this moment, LaCroix still possessed the vampiric intuition which seemed to inform him of addicts in danger, need and . . ." "Need some help?" A familiar masculine voice spoke softly near Jules' ear. Jules jumped, but recovered gracefully. "Vachon . . . thank goodness." The Spaniard smiled. "I normally reserve my aid-rendering activities for my own faction members during War time, pretty lady." He looked at the three hoodlums who now started to approach them. "But, this once, I'll make an exception." "Are they vamps?" Patt asked, moving behind Vachon. "Ex-vamps," the Spaniard corrected. "But, yeah, I think I recognize them. They're some toughs who live down near the docks." "This is the Docks," Patt started to argue, but Jules slapped a hand over the Third Cousin's mouth. "Hey, fellas, how's it going?" Vachon pleasantly addressed the three sullen characters. "Times are tough, bro," one of them replied. "Food sources drying up and new needs to address." "Have you tried the local deli?" Patt asked, blinking her best innocent look. "I hear they're running lettuce on special." "Keep her quiet." Vachon shot a warning at Jules. The HP nodded and clapped her hand back over the mature addict's mouth. "The killing drive is the worst, man," the tough continued. "That don't go away, no matter how *humanized* this disease makes you." "I know," Vachon nodded in agreement. Jules' and Patt's eyes widened in understanding. "I'm fighting it just like you." "Then join us, friend." The verbal ex-vamp looked beyond Vachon to the addicts, then back to the Spaniard. "Let's have some fun for a change. Like old times. Watch them scream and squirm." Vachon shook his head. "Can't do it, bro. I've given these ladies my word, and I have to keep it." The dark ones sneered. "Mortal," one of them spat at Vachon. "Whipped little piece of sunshine." "Look, fellas, I'm trying to be nice here," Vachon held up his hands in a placating manner. "I've been really trying hard to be nice this War." "And, this type of behavior is definitely invading his spatial peace," Patt shook Jules' hand off her mouth and popped in. "You heard the Spaniard. Be nice and go away." "I want the fat one," one of the up-until-now-quiet fiends spoke up. He offered Patt a yellow-toothed grin. "More to rip apart." "Is this where we run?" Patt plucked at Vachon's sleeve. "Either that or call for backup," Vachon tilted his head to reply. "Done!" Jules said, flipping her cell phone case shut. "The police will be here in two minutes." "Hear that, fellas?" Vachon turned and addressed the vampiric hoods again. "Unless you want to spend the night in Her Majesty's lockup, you'd better move on." Grumbling and growling, the ex-vampires moved on in search of more opportune prey. "I think I love cell phones." Patt took the communication device from Jules' hands and kissed it. "I think I like intelligent women who think on their feet," Vachon said warmly, giving Jules a meaningful look. Jules blushed. "The Vaqueras will get jealous reading this post, if you keep that up." "No need for them to," Vachon smiled. "They can write their own little lascivious outing if they want to." He grabbed up Jules' hand and gave it a long, lingering, soulful kiss. "Next," Patt chirped, offering her hand to the Spaniard. Vachon took it, and gave the mature addict's fingers a quick scuffing. "You did okay, too, Elmore. At least you didn't panic and start swinging beer kegs. That could have been nasty." Patt's distress at not getting a kiss quickly vanished with Vachon's jibing words. "You know me too well, Spaniard." "Access to your hard drive leaves no room for secrets," the dark-haired man grinned. "But it sure would be helpful if you'd hurry up and get more megs." The Spaniard stepped away, regarding the women. "Well, this has been fun, ladies, but I really need to be getting back. Gotta get to the Church on time, ya know." Patt and Jules both gave Vachon looks which would have groaned if they'd been verbal. He grinned boyishly, then turned serious again. "Look over there," he instructed. Jules and Patt both turned to see what Vachon was indicating. Over in a dark corner, near the Docks' dumpster, hovered a clump of about ten rats. "They're getting bolder . . . coming out in the open to feed," Vachon noted. He looked at the women. "Those things worry me more than those hoods we just chased off." "You mentioned rats in the club," Jules reminded him. "What's going on?" Vachon shrugged. "Some of the Vaqs and I had an encounter with rats earlier this week and I guess it spooked me," he explained. "Probably nothing to worry about . . ." He gave the women a serious look. "Either of you got cats?" Jules and Patt shook their heads. "How about little rat chasing dogs?" Both women smiled and nodded zestily. "If I were you, I'd keep them at the Shrine, just in case." "Not my Fred," Patt stated flatly. "I make a *Carouche-al* decision each year to leave my baby out of all Wars. Too dangerous with those dog suckers around." Vachon gave the women an even look. "No vamps in this War, remember. Take the critters to the Shrine." The Spaniard turned and walked away from the women, leaving them to ponder his words. They looked once more at the dumpster-dining rodents, shuddered at Vachon's implication and decided it was time to go. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The end patt79ad@juno.com and knightgal@aol.com From - Mon Aug 16 19:39:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GWJN-0006I4-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:37:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1679; Mon, 16 Aug 99 19:34:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5420; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:34:58 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 18:36:48 -0500 Reply-To: litemoon@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Prince Subject: WAR: CUZ: Lions and Tigers and Human Vampires, Oh MY! (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3d2a82f8df90e5521abc1ff63f5a9c24 WAR: CUZ: Lions and Tigers and Human Vampires, Oh MY! (3/3) Time: Saturday, August 14th, after Cousinly Meeting After: WAR: CUZ: Meeting of Cousinly minds; WAR: CUZ: An Afterthought, etc. Place: CERK, the Cousinly War Room Characters: Cousin Lisa, Cousine Celeste, Cousin McLisa, Cousin Marie, Cousin Bean, Cousin Becky, Cousin Wulf, the GSS, Tizzie: McLisa's-cat, and Gozer the Gozarian. LIONS AND TIGERS AND HUMAN VAMPIRES, OH *MY*! (3/3) By: Cousin Lisa Prince and Cousine Celeste After the crowd thinned a bit and the coast seemed to be clear, or so they thought, Lisa and Celeste, along with a McCousin who seemed to have settled down a bit, came out of lurk-dom to stalk their ex-Lord-and-Uncle. They watched as the General's Secret Service received their orders and as a few others got cornered by LaCroix. Human or not, he could still be menacing to some. Cousin Wulf looked like she was a rabbit in the grasp of a wolf, rather than the other way around. When LaCroix turned away from Wulf and seemed about to make good his escape, dignity intact, the trio moved in. "Good Evening, LaCroix," said the Cousins in unison as they cornered LaCroix. He eyed the trio haughtily. Hmmm, still pretty good at that despite a lack of the demi-godhood he used to sport, thought the Cousine. "Good Evening, my loyal followers, and what are your plans for rectifying this current indignation by Nicholas?" LaCroix asked. "We-e-e-ell," Lisa said, "we were kind of thinking of tormenting you a bit while looking for the answer to your dilemma. After all, you can't very well hurt us in your current state, now, can you?" she concluded with a evil chuckle and a sweet smile -- or as sweet a smile as a Cousin could manage. "Yup," chuckled Celeste evilly. She was remembering her near-nervous-break-down of War 8. Rips in the Space-Time Continuum she'd been able to handle easily, but one sharp glance from Uncle had laid her out like a dead mackerel. "This is the first time I haven't felt the overwhelming urge to pass out in your presence. I gotta tell ya, I like it!" "You, McLisa," said LaCroix in as superior a manner as he could muster in the face of potential Cousinly rebellion, "you have always been one of my most loyal followers. You cannot possibly be in cahoots with these two reprobates, can you?" "My cat always says, 'When in doubt, chew on a shoe,'" McLisa replied with a particularly evil grin that did not appear to be entirely the result of alcohol. Then she took off one of her shoes and handed it to LaCroix. A few paces away, McLisa's cat, Tizzie, had reappeared and was nodding sagely at the advice. "I refuse to be treated in such a manner," growled LaCroix. "This is unacceptable, and I shall not forget this when I regain my true nature." He glowered at the Cousins. At that moment, Cousins Becky, Bean and Marie moved in closer to more easily hear what was happening. McLisa said, "My cat always says, 'That LaCroix, he can really fuss.'" "I think he likes to yell at us," Celeste jumped in. "Probably, he means no harm," said Cousin Bean, moving even closer. "But he's never really short on charm," chuckled Cousin Marie, close behind Bean. "Enough of that," snarled LaCroix -- which came off looking rather ridiculous without his fangs. "Celeste? Is LaCroix getting mad?" asked Cousin Becky. "If he is," the Cousine answered, "that could be bad." "No more Cousins rhyming now, I mean it," LaCroix commanded in as stern a tone as he could muster in his humanly form. Lisa, who until then had been noticeably quiet, scrunched her eyes shut, made tight fists with her hands and tried as hard as she could to resist the temptation. The Cousins around her started smiling knowingly and taking bets as quickly as possible. They knew that Lisa wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of piping in. Lisa held out as long as possible -- which wasn't very long -- before she exploded, "Anybody want a peanut?" "I win," shouted Becky, as Lisa gave in to the temptation within ten seconds. "That's a sin," said Bean and Marie in unision as they dug into their pockets to get Becky's cash. The group of Cousins could almost see the smoke coming out of LaCroix's ears. Something about the entire situation just hit them in their funny bones and the Cousins dissolved into peals of laughter. McLisa looked at her cat and then at LaCroix before saying, "My cat always says, 'When mad at your humans, relieving oneself in their shoes is always gratifying.'" With that, McLisa wandered away, laptop still under one arm, while continuing to sip at her drink. LaCroix looked after her in horror, then he looked at the shoe he still held in his hands. Realizing a losing situation when he saw one, he threw the shoe to the floor angrily, narrowly missing Gozer, who had just materialized, and walked out of the room with as much dignity as he could muster. He headed for his private office. He had the feeling he would be spending a lot of time there. The Everett-cat was looking for his mommy, Cousine Celeste. It was past feeding time, therefore it was necessary for the Cousine to provide canned prey, stat. Glancing about the room, his demon-yellow eyes fell on Tizzy, who was delicately washing her face with one paw. 'Hey, there, sexy mamma,' said Gozer to the femme-feline. She sniffed at him, touching his nose with hers for a moment. 'You're... you're *fixed*!' she said a little accusingly. 'Well, yeah,' said the Everett-cat, 'but just because they took my gonads at the age of 11 months don't mean I can't tell a sexy mama when I see one." Tizzy shrugged. That was fair. TO BE CONTINUED ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Mon Aug 16 21:12:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GWtN-0000B2-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:14:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1937; Mon, 16 Aug 99 20:11:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9380; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:11:56 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:13:45 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: Preview:War: Vaqs: Take Me out to the Ball Game (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f92c1c3187c434706e1ff6e12a89c0e9 Take me out to the Ball Game (1/1) Time: 6:30, Monday, August 16 Place: Toronto Sky Dome In front of the Toronto Sky Dome, ten women were very busy buffing one man to a high shine. The man, a long haired, former Spanish conquistador seemed only vaguely amused by the whole thing. "It's well into the evening, TS, I don't think I need this much sunblock." "We're taking no chances." Tracy Sue said. "Your sixteenth century body isn't used to our twentieth century lack of ozone." "But the Blue Jays play in a dome." Vachon protested. "A retractable dome," The Vaqmommy replied. "One that they roll back on nice, sunny days." Sighing in defeat, Vachon let the rest of the Vaqueras rub down every section of exposed skin. As soon as they were done, he donned a Toronto Blue Jays hat, and led them to the stadium. As he paid for ten box seat tickets, the sales clerk couldn't help staring back at the odd assortment of women, and their even odder collection of baseball gear. Each woman wore a colored cap supporting her favorite team. Some of them even went so far as to wear jerseys and puffy hands. "Did you know that It's free hot dog and dollar beer night?" Rae asked. Her Hat of choice was a Minnesota Twins hat. "Ugh, that's a bad combo." Tracy Sue shuddered. She adjusted her Cincinnati Reds jersey. "Why?" "A bunch of drunks spewing hot dogs like it was a Gallagher concert," she made a face, "is not a pretty sight." "I don't know," Teresita said. "I like the idea." The other girls frowned at Teresita. Unlike the rest of them, Teresita had no home team preference. She was rooting for Toronto just to suck up to Vachon. "Why did you wear that?" Echo asked Felicia as they found their box, waving to her Seattle Mariners hat. It was the old-style hat with the trident. "Do you want to get us killed by an unfriendly home crowd?" "You should talk!" Felicia retorted, gesturing at the Yankee's Jeeter jersey. "Ladies, Ladies," Vachon interrupted. "You're both pretty!" *********** First inning "So! What are all of you here to see?" The peanut vendor asked as he passed food among the women. "Boomer!" The Vaqueras said in unison. "We should have never traded him!" Echo sighed. "What do you mean you never should have traded him?" Tracy Sue objected. "We never should have traded him!" "What I want to know," Felicia put in, "is why the Red Sox ever traded the great Bambino." The rest of the Vaqueras groaned, and more than a few threw peanuts at her. ************* Second Inning. Tracy Sue decided that the game was dragging on. It was time for her favorite ballpark activity: snacking. She excused herself from the box, and went looking for Nachos. Too bad this wasn't Cincinnati. She missed having a good Bratwurst at the game. Rounding the corner of the bleachers, Tracy Sue stepped behind a support beam, and vanished in a flash of light. *********** Fifth Inning. "Hey, has anyone seen Tracy Sue?" Vachon looked around in confusion. "Maybe your brother kidnapped her again," Rae said "Don't worry," Felicia added. "When she gets hungry, she'll come home." "What I want to know," Rae pointed to the end of their row, "is if those two are going to do that the entire game?" The entire group looked over to where she pointed. Stephanie and Tammy were wearing the foam tomahawks that marked them as Atlanta Braves fans. They were doing the Tomahawk chop for all to see. ************* Seventh inning On the field, Vachon and Echo stood side by side with baseball bats in hand. "Why do they call it the Dizzy bat race?" Vachon asked in confusion. Before Echo could answer, the officials started the race. Vachon and Echo leaned over, balanced the bat ends on the ground, and pressed their foreheads on the other end of the bat as they ran in circles around them. When they had run ten circles, they raced across the field. After spinning and falling a couple of times, Vachon realized exactly why it was called the dizzy bat race. He also realized that he shouldn't have eaten so many hot dogs. ************ Ninth inning. Since the game was winding down anyway, the Vaqueras decided to make an early exit. On their way out, they passed a radar booth. For three dollars, they could throw three balls and get them clocked for speed. At the encouraging of the Vaqueras, Vachon paid the money, and tossed out the balls. His speed was a respectable 65 miles per hour. The girls cheered as they loaded back onto their Triumphs. "I just wish the others could have seen that." Vachon said. "We'll tell them all about it," Stephanie reassured him. "I don't think we'll ever forget any of this." Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Why? Because I'm a sucker for Vachon! _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 16 21:12:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GWuW-0000Db-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:15:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4148; Mon, 16 Aug 99 20:13:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9450; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:13:19 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:15:08 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War: Vaqs: Take Me out to the Ball Game (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1fa01e85468c49201781693d13101fee Sorry that I goofed the first time. This was to go to the war list. Felicia Take me out to the Ball Game (1/1) Time: 6:30, Monday, August 16 Place: Toronto Sky Dome In front of the Toronto Sky Dome, ten women were very busy buffing one man to a high shine. The man, a long haired, former Spanish conquistador seemed only vaguely amused by the whole thing. "It's well into the evening, TS, I don't think I need this much sunblock." "We're taking no chances." Tracy Sue said. "Your sixteenth century body isn't used to our twentieth century lack of ozone." "But the Blue Jays play in a dome." Vachon protested. "A retractable dome," The Vaqmommy replied. "One that they roll back on nice, sunny days." Sighing in defeat, Vachon let the rest of the Vaqueras rub down every section of exposed skin. As soon as they were done, he donned a Toronto Blue Jays hat, and led them to the stadium. As he paid for ten box seat tickets, the sales clerk couldn't help staring back at the odd assortment of women, and their even odder collection of baseball gear. Each woman wore a colored cap supporting her favorite team. Some of them even went so far as to wear jerseys and puffy hands. "Did you know that It's free hot dog and dollar beer night?" Rae asked. Her Hat of choice was a Minnesota Twins hat. "Ugh, that's a bad combo." Tracy Sue shuddered. She adjusted her Cincinnati Reds jersey. "Why?" "A bunch of drunks spewing hot dogs like it was a Gallagher concert," she made a face, "is not a pretty sight." "I don't know," Teresita said. "I like the idea." The other girls frowned at Teresita. Unlike the rest of them, Teresita had no home team preference. She was rooting for Toronto just to suck up to Vachon. "Why did you wear that?" Echo asked Felicia as they found their box, waving to her Seattle Mariners hat. It was the old-style hat with the trident. "Do you want to get us killed by an unfriendly home crowd?" "You should talk!" Felicia retorted, gesturing at the Yankee's Jeeter jersey. "Ladies, Ladies," Vachon interrupted. "You're both pretty!" *********** First inning "So! What are all of you here to see?" The peanut vendor asked as he passed food among the women. "Boomer!" The Vaqueras said in unison. "We should have never traded him!" Echo sighed. "What do you mean you never should have traded him?" Tracy Sue objected. "We never should have traded him!" "What I want to know," Felicia put in, "is why the Red Sox ever traded the great Bambino." The rest of the Vaqueras groaned, and more than a few threw peanuts at her. ************* Second Inning. Tracy Sue decided that the game was dragging on. It was time for her favorite ballpark activity: snacking. She excused herself from the box, and went looking for Nachos. Too bad this wasn't Cincinnati. She missed having a good Bratwurst at the game. Rounding the corner of the bleachers, Tracy Sue stepped behind a support beam, and vanished in a flash of light. *********** Fifth Inning. "Hey, has anyone seen Tracy Sue?" Vachon looked around in confusion. "Maybe your brother kidnapped her again," Rae said "Don't worry," Felicia added. "When she gets hungry, she'll come home." "What I want to know," Rae pointed to the end of their row, "is if those two are going to do that the entire game?" The entire group looked over to where she pointed. Stephanie and Tammy were wearing the foam tomahawks that marked them as Atlanta Braves fans. They were doing the Tomahawk chop for all to see. ************* Seventh inning On the field, Vachon and Echo stood side by side with baseball bats in hand. "Why do they call it the Dizzy bat race?" Vachon asked in confusion. Before Echo could answer, the officials started the race. Vachon and Echo leaned over, balanced the bat ends on the ground, and pressed their foreheads on the other end of the bat as they ran in circles around them. When they had run ten circles, they raced across the field. After spinning and falling a couple of times, Vachon realized exactly why it was called the dizzy bat race. He also realized that he shouldn't have eaten so many hot dogs. ************ Ninth inning. Since the game was winding down anyway, the Vaqueras decided to make an early exit. On their way out, they passed a radar booth. For three dollars, they could throw three balls and get them clocked for speed. At the encouraging of the Vaqueras, Vachon paid the money, and tossed out the balls. His speed was a respectable 65 miles per hour. The girls cheered as they loaded back onto their Triumphs. "I just wish the others could have seen that." Vachon said. "We'll tell them all about it," Stephanie reassured him. "I don't think we'll ever forget any of this." Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Why? Because I'm a sucker for Vachon! _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 16 21:13:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GWx4-0000Is-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:18:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4160; Mon, 16 Aug 99 20:14:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9623; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:14:48 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:16:20 EDT Reply-To: SField8067@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Fields Subject: WAR:UF: "A Ferrett, A Thingie,and Black Leather" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cd706af6b432da38f098266c71e54592 WAR: UF: "A Ferret, A Thingie And Black Leather" By: Susan Ellen Field and Lora C. with assistance by Leslie GS Setting: Attic Room In The Hive Time: after Ravenette Party Description: Lora Cleaning Attic Lora pulled her thick Reddish Brown Curly Hair back and fitted it into a scrunchie. Cleaning her room in the Hive had been more work than she anticipated. Lora spotted the Leather Pants, Bustier and slightly crushed in Wonder Bra she had loaned to Susan for the Ravenette party, carefully laid out on the bed, along with a Thank You Note and a Honey Stick attached inside. Picking the beloved Leather items up, she walked over to the large Trunk that stood in the corner of the room. Lora was using it to store all her Prized Black Leather. It also doubled for a make-shift table, when needed. "Hmmmmm, that's funny, I could have sworn I closed that Lid all the way," she thought aloud. Bending down to place the leather in the trunk, Lora thought she saw something moving!! Taking her glasses off, she wiped the lenses, and replaced them. She looked again. The other Black Leather Bustier she owned appeared to be moving!!! Could it be a trick of the light? Something she drank? Could the trunk with its precious contents be haunted? Lora debated her choices and decided to go for it! Slowly reaching in, she lifted the bustier out of the trunk using two fingers. It felt heavy!! Much heavier than it should have been without her in it!!! Suddenly a ferret popped its head out of the inside of the bustier. It appeared to have some sort of... unnamable object in its mouth. The critter's appearance momentarily startled her. The bustier fell to the floor and the ferret, dropping its much-sought-after shiny/pretty/odd-shaped object, ran to the corner of the room where it could watch this human from a slightly safer vantage point. Lora started to reach for the unnamable object, annoyed that one of its corners might have marred her Leather. Then she realized that that her precious leather was more likely to have gotten clawed by the ferret. She turned her back for a moment to check the contents of the trunk. Sasha the ferret saw her chance--it was just long enough for the small being to re-collect her prize and scurry off to another part of the Hive. As Lora ran worried fingers over her beloved collection, the ferret scampered toward the lower part of the Hive. Another piece of black leather called to it. Squeezing itself through the cracked-open door of the front closet, it took the odd-shaped/pretty/shiny treasure with. The ferret climbed up an old wool coat to reach its destination--Cleo's jacket. Sasha dropped the object into the jacket's pocket. Its job done, the little critter dropped to the floor and ran off in search of more fun elsewhere. The End From - Mon Aug 16 21:13:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GXFG-00012E-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:36:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2040; Mon, 16 Aug 99 20:34:49 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0759; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:34:49 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 10:36:32 +1000 Reply-To: TALIESYN@C031.AONE.NET.AU Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Alexander J. Braun" Organization: access one Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: Aftershocks 01/0? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5051ae33026e08c6771c7b3a86c5e274 This is a multi-part message in MIME format. --------------80C9C4F35BD7F599E284DFEE Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii; x-mac-type="54455854"; x-mac-creator="4D4F5353" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Aftershocks 01/0? by Alexander J Braun date: 08/14/99 time: 11:00 am place: The Raven When waking up sunday morning first thing I noticed I didn't undress when I went to bed last night or was it early this morning and I've got that morning after headache, after a quick couple of panadols which started to make me feel human something that's new to Janette now, I went down stairs to look what condition the Raven was in. I didn't need to see it, sighing to my self I started to collect the glass's and bottles to tidy up, I noticed after awhile Miklos came in and watched me for a moment then went behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of red and poured two glass's and looked at me with a quizzical look. Now that's a intelligent thing to do I thought why didn't I think of that, went over to the bar and raised the glass and drank the red a nice claret, I noticed while I was drinking the claret Miklos had a somewhat smug look on his face, we then started to finish tiding up the club to it's former condition, I saw the DP's have recovered the tapestry and it was hanging behind protective glass over the bar must have done the deed first thing in the morning that must have been hard on them. That started me thinking about what happened last night then suddenly it struck me why Miklos had that look, Urs had been ogling him for most of the night and they disappeared after awhile. "Miklos you know Urs only wanted to use you for a good time" He smiled "We both had a good time" "Well I noticed Caroline been taking a more than casual interest in you hope she doesn't find out she be devastated" I replied. "Alexander I wouldn't let her find out anything that would break her heart" His dark eye's were sparkling at the thought. "Just make sure you use protection you don't want any problems later" Miklos suddenly looked at me"protection?" oh no I thought this war is off to a interesting start, "you better hope Janette doesn't hear about this she would be pleased you not being careful". He poured us both another glass of red he looked like now he needs it than I did at first. Miklos and I drank through a couple of bottles of red sitting at a table discussing women vamps or mortals they all give you trouble if you don't watch out. We were there for awhile then we hear Lorna get up then Kathy they left the Raven soon, looked like trouble for someone's credit card there. -- Alex Braun - Taliesyn@c031.aone.net.au - ICQ # 12610993 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe". Marcus, B5 --------------80C9C4F35BD7F599E284DFEE Content-Type: message/rfc822 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Disposition: inline >From errors-234037-270-taliesyn=c031.aone.net.au@onelist.com Mon Aug 16 15:55:13 1999 Received: from onelist.com (pop.onelist.com [209.207.164.235]) by mail.mel.aone.net.au (8.8.8/8.8.8) with SMTP id PAA21754 for ; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 15:55:11 +1000 (EST) Received: (qmail 3515 invoked by alias); 16 Aug 1999 05:54:59 -0000 Received: (qmail 3471 invoked from network); 16 Aug 1999 05:54:57 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO mail.mel.aone.net.au) (203.12.176.157) by pop.onelist.com with SMTP; 16 Aug 1999 05:54:57 -0000 Received: from C031.AONE.NET.AU (slmel51p31.ozemail.com.au [203.108.159.31]) by mail.mel.aone.net.au (8.8.8/8.8.8) with ESMTP id PAA21471 for ; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 15:54:53 +1000 (EST) Message-ID: <37B7A796.35403D30@C031.AONE.NET.AU> Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 15:54:44 +1000 From: "Alexander J. Braun" Organization: access one X-Mailer: Mozilla 4.61 (Macintosh; I; PPC) X-Accept-Language: en To: ravenettes Mailing-List: list ravenettes@onelist.com; contact ravenettes-owner@onelist.com Delivered-To: mailing list ravenettes@onelist.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Reply-to: ravenettes@onelist.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii; x-mac-type="54455854"; x-mac-creator="4D4F5353" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Subject: [ravenettes] WAR: RAVENETTES: Aftershocks 01/0? X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 From: "Alexander J. Braun" I though of a little story to fit in with what happened during the party and early next day events. Have a look at it and add anything you all think it needs, I added Kathy and Lorna leaving to go shopping so if they want to add something re when they are leaving the Raven go ahead. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Aftershocks 01/0? by Alexander J Braun date: 08/14/99 time: 11:00 am place: The Raven When waking up sunday morning first thing I noticed I didn't undress when I went to bed last night or was it early this morning and I've got that morning after headache, after a quick couple of panadols which started to make me feel human something that's new to Janette now, I went down stairs to look what condition the Raven was in. I didn't need to see it, sighing to my self I started to collect the glass's and bottles to tidy up, I noticed after awhile Miklos came in and watched me for a moment then went behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of red and poured two glass's and looked at me with a quizzical look. Now that's a intelligent thing to do I thought why didn't I think of that, went over to the bar and raised the glass and drank the red a nice claret, I noticed while I was drinking the claret Miklos had a somewhat smug look on his face, we then started to finish tiding up the club to it's former condition, I saw the DP's have recovered the tapestry and it was hanging behind protective glass over the bar must have done the deed first thing in the morning that must have been hard on them. That started me thinking about what happened last night then suddenly it struck me why Miklos had that look, Urs had been ogling him for most of the night and they disappeared after awhile. "Miklos you know Urs only wanted to use you for a good time" He smiled "We both had a good time" "Well I noticed Caroline been taking a more than casual interest in you hope she doesn't find out she be devastated" I replied. "Alexander I wouldn't let her find out anything that would break her heart" His dark eye's were sparkling at the thought. "Just make sure you use protection you don't want any problems later" Miklos suddenly looked at me"protection?" oh no I thought this war is off to a interesting start, "you better hope Janette doesn't hear about this she would be pleased you not being careful". He poured us both another glass of red he looked like now he needs it than I did at first. Miklos and I drank through a couple of bottles of red sitting at a table discussing women vamps or mortals they all give you trouble if you don't watch out. We were there for awhile then we hear Lorna get up then Kathy they left the Raven soon, looked like trouble for someone's credit card there. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---- Now the second part I think is when Janette wakes up and she'll want breakfast maybe a panadol or two seeing she haddn't been drinking like a mortal for a millenia or so, any one want's to have a go? During breakfast(ok a very late breakfast in the afternoon) we can discuss the events that have been happening to the Vampires. -- Alex Braun - Taliesyn@c031.aone.net.au - ICQ # 12610993 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe". Marcus, B5 --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- You can WIN $100 to Amazon.com by starting a new list at ONElist. Drawing is held each week through August 20. For details, go to http://www.onelist.com/info/onereachsplash3.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------ A glass of the House Special, perhaps? --------------80C9C4F35BD7F599E284DFEE-- From - Mon Aug 16 21:13:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GXIT-0005nM-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:40:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6012; Mon, 16 Aug 99 20:38:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0871; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:38:01 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:42:00 -0700 Reply-To: Kyer en Ysh Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kyer en Ysh Subject: WAR: We Interrupt This Broadcast... (1 of 1) Sunday Night To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 25a71a1e1426213a33dbb974d65d7a3e War: We Interrupt This Broadcast... (1of 1) Written by: Kyer en Ysh Time: Sunday Night, Aug. 15, After "I Bring You a Message of Peace" and after "Intimations of a Kidnapping" _____________________________________________________ "Darn those people! The nerve of them even thinking of kidnapping little ol' me. Well, we'll thwart them, right Mr. Spitz? Once the Inka gets here, we'll be looong gone!" The puppet looked like it would have rather have been safely esconsed on her bed back in the Comfy Cottage, but it had little choice in the matter-- its mistress was steamed, and when Kyer was steamed Logic went screaming out the window. Not that there was much there to begin with. Entering by the main doors of the CBC Radio Station and noting that the place looked deserted, Kyer made her way to the broadcasting booth, set down Mr. Spitz on the console, and began rummaging thru her backpack for the food she had planned as her in-flight meal. Even in a hair-brained state she still had the sense to booby-trap the place should she be interrupted by night security.. "Now... lessee... how do you turn this stuff on?" As fortune would have it, she hit the right switch on the first try. Across Toronto, dozens of citizens who had neglected to turn off their CBC-set radios looked up in surprise as they heard: "Ooooo--- Looky at all the winky-blinkies!" Making herself as comfortable as she could, Kyer gave a discreet little cough and began talking into the microphone. "Gee... I hope this is working, Mr. Spitz.... "Hello? Inka? It's Kyer up In the Great White You Know Where. If you wouldn't mind--- COME AND GET ME ASAP!! Thanks much." Kyer released a sigh of satisfaction and smiled at Mr. Spitz. Now that her distress call had been sent out, she could relax. All she had to do was wait for her Peruvian friend to get her the heck out of Canada... Waiting was boring. "You know, Mr. Spitz... " Kyer's brown eyes started to gleam with mischief, "I don't think anyone would mind if we played radio talk host for a while, do you? I know! Let's pretend we bought out CERK! I'll just switch off the signal power first." She hit a switch with a flourish. Unfortunately, this time it was *not* the *right* switch. "Hi, all! Bet you tuned in to listen to that bug, didn't you? Well, the Nightcrawler's been temporarily SQUISHED! And until he can pull himself back into shape, *We're* going to be reading to you from that immortal tale: 'Is Your Mama A Llama?' Aren't we, Mr. Spitz? But first a word from our sponsors... Did a moth infestation ruin your toga supply? Are you fresh out of pink bunnies? Did that big Drool Bucket Sale at the local store end before you could get there? Then head on over to Crazy Cal's All-Nite Swap Meet! There you'll find..." Back at the Comfy Cottage, Kyer's faction mates heard a yelp of surprised anguish. Seconds later, Margie came tearing down the stairs, flew to the radio and switched it on so the others could hear the broadcast. "She's gone nuts!" Margie exclaimed. "We've got to do something before *they* kill her!" "Which *they*?" Anjali wanted to know. "Take your pick! Enforcers, NA, LaCroix, Cousins! If we don't get to her first--- we're gonna have another spare bedroom on our hands!" Morgaine impulsively yelled out: "Dibs! Er... I mean..." she stuttered as the others glared at her. Thirty seconds later, J.L., Morgaine, and Margie were in Lisa's car, with J.L. driving, heading for the radio station at breakneck speed. As they sped down the freeways, Morgaine turned on the radio and found the CBC station. They heard Kyer's voice reading a sweet story about a lost baby llama that was asking various animals if they were his Mama. "That sounds okay," thought Margie, "maybe there won't be any more...." They heard Kyer's voice, saying, "Well... then the little baby Llama went to bug its next victim with its insidious questions, didn't it, Mr. Spitz? Of course, the little creature could have had much worse problems than an identity crisis. It could have been looking for its Pappa and have that being turn out to be a real wacko, buzz-cutted Llama dude with major ego and possessiveness problems.." All three riders in the car groaned in unison. Meanwhile, back at the Comfy Cottage, Lisa, the lone Nunkies Addict among the Cousins of the Knight, had her calculator out and was trying to figure out how much grout duty at the Shrine she'd be assigned during the next year, as a result of Kyer's broadcast. Anjali was trying to comfort her. At the radio station, Kyer was just about through with her dramatic reading (with Mr. Spitz's help) of 'Is Your Mama A Llama?' (set to the background music of a 'Fun In The Sun!' cd) when she heard loud angry-sounding noises coming closer. "Uh.. oh." She looked at the console in front of her. "Mr. Spitz... you don't think we might have left something *important* on, do you?" The barricaded doors lasted all of three seconds as a sampling of the station's night security people came barging in. They immediately began slipping on the assortment of banana peel and banana mash 'booby traps' Kyer had discar...er.. *set*. "Is something wrong?" Kyer asked as they struggled to right themselves on the treacherous floor. One of the guards snarled at her, momemtarily exposing glistening fangs and reddish eyes before flying forward--- only to be brought up short by a stinging cloud from a can of 'Raid Nightcrawler Spray that Kyer kept on hand just in case she ever ran into trouble with a certain ancient bloodsucker. Vampires! The poor man struggled to breathe in just one gulp of fresh air. Here he'd been on his way to his son's Monster Party Sleep Over, when his alarm beeper had gone off. The special contact lenses and fangs had cost a small fortune and he was not about to waste any more time than he had to collaring this obvious lunatic. Not only that-- but that damn spray was taking off the paint from his costume! "I think we've been fired, Mr. Spitz." Kyer wisely deduced. "Suppose we'll have to kiss off that letter of reference." That's not all you'll be kissing off you dement--" the young guard snarled, reaching for her. Hastily searching one handed into her pouch, Kyer pulled out the sacred image of Inti, the Incan Sun God cast on a gold-painted medallion. (Made in Taiwan) The make-believe vampire recoiled back. Whether because of the holy image or because of the cheap knock-off work was hard to say. Or maybe it was because the thing had managed to severely collide with the man's head? Deciding that *yesterday* would have been a good time to leave Toronto, Canada, and-- heck!-- maybe all of North America, she grabbed for Mr. Spitz and her backpack before *purposely* (ahem) stepping on one of the banana peels which sent her hurtling towards the main doors-- "Ya know... maybe this wasn't such a good idea, Mr. Spitz?" __________________________________ End of post: We Interrupt This Broadcast... (1of 1) From - Mon Aug 16 21:14:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GXLF-0001If-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:43:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6025; Mon, 16 Aug 99 20:39:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1011; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:39:44 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:43:53 -0700 Reply-To: Kyer en Ysh Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kyer en Ysh Subject: WAR: Intimations Of A Kidnapping (1of 1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 200e383a9620859ecdbf5e704adbef9c WAR: Intimations Of A Kidnapping (1of 1) Written by: Kyer en Ysh, with input from those mentioned herein. Time: Sunday, Aug. 15, Early Afternoon Begins before "I Bring You a Message of Peace" ____________________________________________________________________________ Lisa slowly hung up the phone, her expression pensive. Morgaine, who had just come back from feeding her Space Chickens was the first to notice. "What's wrong?" Everyone else looked up as Lisa took a seat on the couch and stared out the window. Everyone that is except Kyer and J.L. J.L. was likely still fine-tuning the computers in the basement level. It was her major duty in the Cottage and she applied herself diligently to it. That left... "Where's Kyer?" "Where else?" Anjali replied, nose returning to within inches of an interesting magazine article. "In her room as usual, listening to that Guatamalen stuff." "Incan." Morgaine corrected her, knowing that Kyer could be really touchy on things like that. "You want me to call her down?" She started to get up to go to one of the intercom systems that dotted the cottage. Lisa stopped her. "No, let me discuss this with you guys first. That was a call from a friend of a friend of an acquaintance. It seems the Nunkies Anonymous have been taking notice in Kyer's being here and not at the Loft as some had expected." Margie shrugged. "So, maybe the NA just like to keep tabs on everybody. Why should that affect us?" "It's just hearsay, mind, but my... contact.. thinks they may be planning on kidnapping her. Something about some fanfic she--" "Whaa?!" Kyer, who had just come down the stairs in order to fix a jalepeno snack in the kitchen, was staring at them, jaw wide opened. "K-k-kidnap? Me?! That's... that's against the law!" "Now, calm down, Kyer," Lisa implored, afraid the woman was going to have an attack on the spot. "It's only a rumor.." "They.. they can't kidnap me...I... I *bruise* easily! I'm an *AMERICAN CITIZEN*!" She turned on her heel and ran back up the stairs taking the steps two at a time while screaming hysterically. "AAAAAAAAAGH!! THEY'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!!" "Oh... sheesh" Morgaine exclaimed. "Kyer, wait!" She jumped out of her chair and ran after her friend, followed closely by Margie and Lisa. Anjali just shook her head and went back to her magazine. "It's like a soap." ___________________ Upstairs, Lisa, Morgaine, and Margie burst thru the open doorway of Kyer's room. The place was habitually dark from the grey stone that surrounded everywhere but the solarium window. Mr. Spitz sat forlonly on the bed, keeping vigil over her belongings. "Kyer?" Lisa called out softly. "Where is she?" "Wait a minute, " Morgaine headed towards the closet and opened it up. "Well, she's not in there." Margie sighed. "Yes she is." Morgaine replied, taking hold of a small latch near the bottom of one wall. It moved sideways to reveal a small, hidden cubbyhole that was currently filled up with one blowdart wielding Arizonan. Morgaine stared at the tiny dart that was partly embeddded in an article of clothing hanging close to her head. "Oops." Kyer smiled weakly at her in apology. Margie took the opportunity to snatch the primitive weapon away. "Gimme that thing! My God! This isn't poisoned, is it? What do you think you're doing?!" "Curare. I've got to defend myself!" Making a face of pure exasperation, Margie handed the primitive device to Lisa. Maybe they could call the local Poison Control to find out how to dispose of it. "This is ridiculous... now, come out of there and act reasonable." She noticed the Lisa and Morgaine giving her the raised eyebrow. "Well... *comparably* reasonable." "No way!" Morgaine tried next. "Kyer, you're perfectly safe here with us." "Says you!" Kyer tried to shove the panel closed again. Morgaine held it open. "I mean, JL's got the place rigged with more security than the U.S.S. Enterprise." Kyer's eyes squinted. "Would that be the same starship that habitually loses red-shirted people?" Her friend's eyes kinda went vacant as she remembered. "Oh... yeah. Especially in that episo-" She felt an elbow in her ribs. Margie shaking her head. "Look, Kyer, " Lisa sighed. "You can't very well stay in the closet for the duration of the War." "I can dang well try! I'm *allergic* to muggings and torture!" With that, she shoved the panel closed with all her might, leaving the others standing in the closet wondering what to do. At last they left-- Lisa to deal with the poisoned darts. Checking to make sure that the coast was clear, Kyer cautiously rolled out of the cubby hole and spent the next 15 minutes unkinking her muscles. Lisa had been right-- even with the bathroom breaks, she'd never manage to spend more than a day in such a tight place. And the pins and needle sensations every time she got out were torture in themselves. No.... there was only one thing she could do to save herself... Plopping her backpack down next to the puppet, she began to throw selected items into it. "We gotta get out of here, Mr. Spitz. Head back to Arizona where we belong. Problem is, the Inka won't be returning for us until the two weeks are up-- and he doesn't have a phone! So I've been thinking... what better way to get a message to him than to send it via the Global Emergency Radio signal? I mean, all the vampires listen to it, don't they? How else do they find a source for easy victims? Maybe we can sneak in and send a quickie broadcast. Whaddya think?" Mr. Spitz said nothing. "I knew you'd agree!" Kyer grinned, strapping the toy to the pack. "You're not afraid of nothin' are you Mr. Spitz. What would I do without you?" A half an hour and a torn-sheets ladder later, she was out the window and heading for the main city. Once she was surrounded again by towering saguaros, abundant heat, and near constant sunny days, she could send the CotK an e-mail with her excu--- reasons for skipping out. ___________________________________ End of post: Intimations Of A Kidnapping (1of 1) From - Mon Aug 16 21:14:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GXLG-0001If-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:43:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6022; Mon, 16 Aug 99 20:39:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0976; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:39:13 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:39:43 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War:Cousins: Saturn Rising 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 46d82596e5de067d57ba65a3f86eec20 Cousins: Saturn Rising 1/1 McLisa The parking lot behind CERK, at some point at night some hours after the Cousins' Meeting McLisa sat on the backsteps of CERK, watching the empty space which, before the meeting, had been occupied by Trine the Saturn. She had not given anyone the keys, which were in her pocket, nor did she think it necessary to turn in a theft report. Alas, she knew where Trine was. She'd known ever since she stopped by the War Room to say hi to the members of Cerberus. Since the police scanner was not reporting any vampire-style murders or bar-fights at the Raven or elsewhere, it was being ignored. The situation changed abruptly, at least for McLisa, when she heard the dispatcher lose her Canadian cool. "Car 54, repeat." No please -- impossible for a calm Canadian. "I said, am in pursuit on Spadina of Red 4-door Saturn with South Carolina license plate and bumper sticker that seems to be in a foreign language," replied the officer. He sounded dubious. Heck, he sounded like Horton, the poor soul with whom Nick had tried to file an APB on the missing Sydney in one of McLisa's stories. McLisa cringed. The sticker was in Latin and had the translation in very small print: "If you can read this, you are overeducated." She had been planning to bring it to LaCroix's attention, as soon as she got the drop on him with a weapon. "..." said the dispatcher, echoing Horton's description. "Driver?" Horton's gulp was as loud as a bomb. "There isn't one." Since the next voice on the air had been Stonetree's, gently yet menacingly demanding Horton's immediate presence at Toronto's finest home for the bewildered, McLisa rethought her plan to claim ownership. She loved Toronto, but generally preferred to stay in a accomodation which she could leave at will. Radio silence ensued, since no one else on patrol appeared to want an all-expenses paid vacation at taxpayer expense. McLisa slipped out to the parking area to await the return of her errant transportation. A zombie beachcomber and her laptop kept her company. It was all the laptop's fault. That would be McLisa's story and she would stick to it. If it hadn't turned out to have a copy of the Abarat on it, left over from a previous war, she wouldn't have scrolled through the spellbook. Without the Abarat, she wouldn't have found what looked like a spell for selectively reversing vampire/mortality tranformation. And certainly, without the Abarat, McLisa would never have dropped the nearly full drink on the pavement while trying to scroll in two directions at once and cursed the z.b., thereby designating it as a sacrifice. Most important, without a copy of the Abarat, McLisa couldn't have sounded out the invocation in a Sanscrit mangled by a southern accent and the mango juice in the zombie beachcomber. McLisa always insisted it was the juice. " ...aaaaaar ....." she concluded. Wham!! displaced air rocked Lacroix's black Jaguar and lifted McLisa two steps back. This was fortunate, as a gout of flame with a purple center sandblasted the exact spot where she had been sitting. McLisa gibbered rather more than usual, pathetically calling for the list gardener, her isp, and any passing angels. She managed to gasp, "who are you?" Pedantically speaking, the pronoun should have been 'what'? The thing on the bubbling asphault was definitely not human. McLisa had seen many other humans in the course of her long and misspent life. None of them had been twelve feet tall or the same virulent green as the stuff that you lose in the back of your refrigerator between cleanings. Not one had looked like a kiwi bird which had been been treated by Dr. Frankenstein instead of James Herriott after loosing a bar room brawl with a tyranosaurus rex. Nor, thought McLisa, dodging another flame, had any of them spoken in an accent like that. All she knew was, it wasn't North American. Beyond that not even McLisa, pedant that she was, intended to analyse the incoherent rage spewing from the thing's mouth and lifting it into the air. Flies under its own hot air, she thought distractedly . "Who?" she gasped, mostly because it seemed more couth than "HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fire! would have been appropriate but McLisa didn't think of it. This is probably why the Cousins and the General didn't end up in a barbecue. Yes, in it -- oh, never mind. "Dolt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" roared the kiwi-thing. "I'm smarter than you are!" McLisa's self-esteem had to assert itself now. Great. McLisa made a mental note to have it amputated as soon as possible. "Don't you call me names!" "I am *DOLT*" The decibel level and gas smell caused several cousins to rush into the situation room under the impression that the Mercs had set off a giant stink bomb. It must be the Mercs, they reasoned. No one would get close to that sound and smell if they weren't being paid. McLisa wasn't sure about the initial sound in the name but figured this was no time to indulge in her linguistic hobby. "What do you want?" she asked, trying to scuttle unobtrusively toward the alley. "I am Dolticus --" actually the suffix was completely unclear but given the creature's language -icus seemed a reasonable transcription -- " FEAR ME!!!!!!!!" By way of emphasis, the Dolt flamed off at the gear on the roof which formed CERK's net connection. At least, McLisa thought that was the object. Dolticus's targetting seemed to be somewhat less than rational. "Great," thought McLisa with the calm of complete despair. "LaCroix knew lots of ways to kill when he was mortal and I'm sure he's going to show me all of them before he lets me die." Perhaps she could make amends by banishing Dolt now. Stepping in front of him just as he was getting the range on the Jag, McLisa raised her hands and entoned, "you are not allowed to post to this universe. Go *away*" If a fireball can give a raspberry, this one did. McLisa whirled, with the intention of running all the way to Pearson Airport and a return to the States where she planned to lead a blameless life as a garden slug -- And was almost knocked down as Trine skidded to a halt. "No -- drive home!!" shouted McLisa. "I haven't got flame-insurance on you." Trine hooted, or at least the horn did. The Dolt whirled, aimed at the dark red paint work and was met by trills of laughter from the Saturn. Dolticus whenced and drew back. Trine charged, laughing and blowing "shave and a haircut, two bits." McLisa, now totally beyond the range of all sanity, burst out snickering and pointing. The Dolt shot straight up like a sky rocket and took off to menace Toronto. Trine calmly parked herself next to the Jag. McLisa staggered whimpering into the building to find her way blocked by Cousine Celeste with arms akimbo, who demanded. "And just what do you think you're doing?" McLisa explained by collapsing into blissful unconsciousness at the Cousine's feet. Anyone who wants to use The Dolt, feel free. It doesn't matter if he's in more than one place at the same time. He has lots of ways in and out of reality. Just don't kill him, as I have eventual plans for that. Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Mon Aug 16 21:14:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GXMj-0007lh-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:44:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2067; Mon, 16 Aug 99 20:42:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1069; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:42:35 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 17:46:39 -0700 Reply-To: Kyer en Ysh Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kyer en Ysh Subject: War: Retreiving One Schitzoid Knightie Errant (1of 1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6d6750f41205344a0615449a51064a70 War: Retreiving One Schitzoid Knightie Errant (1of 1) Written by: Kyer en Ysh with input from those mentioned herein Time: Sunday Night, Aug. 15, After "We Interrupt This Broadcast..." _____________________________________ Just as Kyer was about to collide with the station's entrance doors, they opened up to let her out--- and she sailed semi-majestically thru the air and down the steps in a spectacular swan dive. "WAAAHHHHGGHH!!" Letting go of the door handles, Morgaine and Margie rushed to help her up. "Kyer! Are you all right?" Margie asked as Morgaine picked up the puppet. Fortunately, Kyer's head had landed on the plush toy instead of the concrete. It appeared that Mr. Spitz was none worse for the experience, (save for a line of garlic spittle staining the sidewalk), but its mistress began groaning aloud as Margie struggled to keep her upright. "Never. Ever. Take the Banana Peel Express again... steerings lousy... brakes nonexistant.... no passenger side airbags..." "She's fine." Morgaine grinned. "Well, in a sense," Margie joked, relieved now that she knew Kyer really was okay. But Kyer suddenly reclaimed Mr. Spitz and bolted for the car, hopped inside the back, and started making pushing motions with her arms while shouting at J.L. who was still in the driver's seat, being disinclined to to leave the presence of a technological device, even if it was just Lisa's car on loan. "Go! Go! Go! Vamos! Andele! Warp Speed, Mr. Scott! Where's the Manual Override!" "Or maybe not," Morgaine allowed as she climbed into the front seat (better bounce factor) while Margie got in the back with Kyer. "Kyer, you want to tell us what was going on?" Margie asked their errant Knightie as she fumbled with the seat belt (Lisa needed to get this thing fixed!) "Making fun of CERK like that," she said worriedly. If LaCroix or any of his factions find out---" "And poor Lisa's responsible for you, in case you've forgotten." J.L. added as she stuck the key back into the ignition. "She could get deported as well." The receiver of these rebukes growled softly in mounting agitation before exclaiming: "Can we *please* discuss this while on the move?! Go! Go!" Kyer urged them while staring worriedly back at the CBC building, "Before that vampire finds us!" Morgaine choked. "Vampire? What vampire?!" "*That* vampire!" Kyer stabbed a finger in the direction of the radio station's doors that had burst open to reveal three men--- one of whom was wearing a theatrical cape. Margie didn't think real vampires would wear such a get-up, but Kyer was starting to tremble and mutter even more unintelligibly than normal. And was she *really* an expert on vampire fashion? Enough to stake their lives on it? "Um... J.L.?" Deciding that it probably would be prudent to gather specifics at a later and safer location, J.L. put the pedal to the metal. "Hold on!" Tires squeeled and rubber burned as the former race car driver peeled out onto Front Street and began weaving through the night-time traffic as if it was the Indianapolis 500 Speedway. Margie and Kyer clung to each other in mutual terror. Well, actually both were clinging to Mr. Spitz, which luckily for Margie, was out of garlic juice ammo. Morgaine, for her part, was looking slightly peeved: It was hard to get a good bounce when the g-forces were keeping you pinned to the backrest. Morgaine was still happily testing the spring warranty on Lisa's car seats as they drove along at a now more civilized speed. J.L. glanced back in the rear-view mirror and saw that Kyer appeared to have calmed down considerably. Maybe even enough to make sense. "You want to explain yourself back there?" Kyer hugged her stuffed llama closer to herself as she bowed her head. "Not particularly." "Kyer..." Morgaine began, breaking the rhythm of her gymnastic exercises. "I just wanted to contact the Inka so he'd take me home a tad early." Margie shushed Morgaine as the younger started to protest. They could deal with Kyer's wish to leave the War once they rejoined the rest of the group. "And what was that stuff about LaCroix being squished? His factions aren't going to be real happy with that." Understatement! "Um... " Kyer shrank down even lower into the back seat. "It was Mr. Spitz's idea?" Even Morgaine cocked an eybrow at that. "Okaay... so I got bored and hit the wrong button. Darn console had more switches than a 747. Anyway, any miffed factions will be looking for me, not the CotK, and I'll be back home sipping chile punch, won't I. Which reminds me--- could you please turn up the heat a few notches in this thing? Haven't felt decent warmth since leaving the Sonoran and Mr. Spitz is susceptible to colds. Aren't you, Mr. Spitz?" Morgaine went back to her bouncing, confident that with the combined arguments of all five of her CotK sisters, Kyer would be convinced to stay on. J.L. openly considered reviving her career as a race car driver. Margie wondered what the safe maximum dose was on her headache pills. Whoever said that Wars were heck-- [poetic paraphrasing for the List, here.]-- had obviously never particpated in a Faction War. Otherwise his remark would have been far more unprintable. _____________________________________ End of post: Retrieving One Schitzoid Knightie Errant (1of 1) From - Tue Aug 17 06:57:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GYAi-0001eF-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 21:36:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2415; Mon, 16 Aug 99 21:34:15 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4817; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 21:34:15 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:36:04 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: VAQ: Vamos A Negociar (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a691e3736bac2a13651874719326f40e Vaq: Vamos A Negociar (1/1) Starring: Bons, Tracy Sue, Felicia, Rae, and Rae's boot Time: Monday August 16th, sometime during the Grand Opening Location: Chateau Des Autres After 'Take Me Out To The Ball Game' Companion Piece to 'NA: Caveat Emptor' Tracy Sue was reveling in a little time on her own when her troops caught up with her. Both Felicia and Rae looked a little concerned, as if they couldn't quite capture why their Vaqmommy might feel like ducking out of other fun. She didn't blame them for not catching on, because what Tracy Sue had was the stuff of nightmares to a true Vaquera. The heavy, cold hand of Responsibility had crept up and goosed her. "Tracy Sue -" Felicia began. "- are you okay?" Rae ended. She gave them a nod, waving her hand casually. "I'm great. Super. Tearing my hair out with joy." She wrinkled her nose. "I've just been thinking about the weather forecast. You know, they're predicting rain." Tracy Sue let the statement hang in the air for her fellow Vaqs to savor, before adding, "And we still have that big hole..." "Got it! Got it!" Rae exclaimed. "I didn't put parachutes on the luggage! I killed the roof! You're still peeved! O-kay!" "I'm not peeved," Tracy Sue protested firmly. "I'm just not excited over the continued prospect of a tarp being the only thing separating me from the elements." "Vachon didn't seem to mind so much," Felicia pointed out. "Consider his standards. Vachon's slept in the *dirt,* Felicia." "Oh. You have a point there." "Then," Tracy Sue continued, "there's his whole I'm-a-slacker- not-a-fighter attitude. I'm all for not attacking people and staying unattacked, but how the hell do we actually make that happen?" Both Felicia and Rae were equally pensive. If they were to *make* something happen, this implied actual planning and purpose. Goals and direction. "Ugh," Rae spat. "I don't want to think about it." Felicia agreed. These weren't fun thoughts. "Let's split and go for a beer. Catch a movie." Tracy Sue didn't get a chance to say 'yea' or 'nay' to the offer. Something tugged at the hem of her leather pants, and there was a "Psst! Psst!" sound. She let her vision drift infinitesimally lower and spotted a familiar, if not exactly welcome, redhead. If the NA Scribe was crawling around the floor, looking for attention, this couldn't be a good thing. Maybe if she ignored Bonnie, she'd go away. It didn't work. This time, Bonnie spoke more forcefully and used actual words. "Tracy Sue!" Maybe Bonnie hadn't realized that she was ignoring her on purpose. Tracy Sue decided to be more forthright. "I heard you the first time." Bonnie could be stubborn, and too air-headed to catch on sometimes, but Tracy Sue still held out hope. Seconds passed, and Bonnie didn't make a further peep. Maybe she'd toddled off to pull someone else's leg. No such luck. "Tracy Sue!" The Vaqmommy sighed. Why couldn't doing nothing ever be *easy*? No one ever seemed to realize doing nothing might not mean 'I want something to do,' but 'I like the lack of purposeful activity.' "What?" Bonnie's voice came in an urgent, almost secretive hiss."We need to talk!" Tracy Sue glanced up at the 'Notherly guide, then around the room to see if their talking was disrupting the tour. She checked out both Rae and Felicia, figuring they'd be having some kind of 'What is she doing on the floor?!?' reaction. Sure enough, they were both looking at Bonnie as though she had eggplant sprouting from her ears. Tracy Sue wondered if Bons would go away if she simply acted dense. She gave the NA Scribe a solemn, I-don't-get-it look. "Here?!" Bonnie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!" During her blank stare, Tracy Sue noticed that Bons had gotten into that whole 70s retro thing, wearing a lycra blend scarf with big daisies on it. There *were* bad side effects to liking ABBA. And, funny thing, Bons wasn't wearing shoes..."*Now?!*" "Yes! Yes! And if you want to know how, what, and why, you're going to have to come with me." Bonnie clasped both hands in front of her meager chest and pleaded. "I'm begging here!" Rae leaned close and whispered in Tracy Sue's ear, "Too bad you don't have your camera. You could frame her misery." Ah, yes, it was a pleasant thought, but Tracy Sue hadn't brought her camera. It was a good thing, too, what with no roof on the church. A good camera and lenses were almost worth the same as a good organ, and she couldn't afford the water damage. Anyway, back to being stubborn and uncooperative. "Dunno if I want to." That's when Bonnie reached up and grabbed her by the lapels of her jacket, dragging her down to floor level. "Did you catch the magic show? How about we both disappear?!" Tracy Sue blinked at finding herself on her knees, on the floor. She didn't exactly appreciate being relocated like that and gave Bonnie an annoyed glare. "What are you doing?" "Sneaking to the window seat. Dragging you behind me." Tracy Sue pondered the situation. She could cut up rough and protest. That would work, since she had Rae and Felicia as backup. The thing was, that would be putting in a lot of effort, and Bonnie had been irritating to a point that Tracy Sue was now curious what the deal was. Maybe the Scribe *knew* something. Tracy Sue shrugged. Probably not. This was *Bonnie.* Still, it wouldn't hurt to tag along. Maybe. She turned and waved over her shoulder to Rae and Felicia, giving them the all clear to leave. "You guys go on without me. I'll see you later." Seeing her friends depart, Tracy Sue followed Bons to the window seat, sitting Indian-style across from the addict. "Now, what is it you're all so fired up to talk about?" Instead of details, Bons wanted to provide drinks. "A good chat calls for a good drink. Cerveza?" Tracy Sue mulled that over for a second.. Felicia *had* put the idea in her head earlier. She nodded. "Si, cerveza." Bonnie wiggled her fingers and called, "Oh, Fanfic Fairies..." Tracy Sue wasn't exactly impressed. She'd hung around the shrine, she'd seen this stuff before. A beer bottle poofing into your hand was no big deal. "Shouldn't you keep the overt stretching of reality to a minimum and save it for the real emergencies?" "Why?" Bons countered. "If you can use Fanfic Fairies, why not flaunt them?" She swizzled the stick in her own conveniently-appearing whisky sour. "The reason I wanted to talk with you was silly really...And a little bit desperate..." Desperate. An intriguing word. A threatening word. Desperate people usually wanted something from you. "You don't say?" "It's just...war." Bons clapped her hands together as if she'd, after three turns around the block, never noticed fan-fiction conflict before. Way to go for the criminally obtuse. Then, she followed up the blather with a sterling point. "We're in the middle of a war, and you know how things get!" Now Tracy Sue gave a heartfelt nod. She understood completely. War came, and suddenly everyone was glued into suits and your church fell down. You stole, things were stolen. Silly string rained from the heavens. Camels walked. "Crazy." "Not just crazy. So...*combative.* Everybody's running around trashing everybody else, whoever gets the chance to just...hang out?" Tracy Sue felt a shiver go down her spine. She was starting to strangely, scarily, sound like Vachon. "Who've you been talking to?" Bons patted her on the knee. "No one! That's my point! Imagine a world where no one could find you, where you didn't have to worry about people coming after your faction and you could just relax and be yourself..." Bonnie sighed. "Wow. Wouldn't that be great?" "I can see the advantage to not having anyone know where you were," Tracy admitted. "Being at the church has some small drawbacks. If only we didn't have to be there." Then a thought struck her. Of course! It made sense that Bons was sounding like Vachon! What happened in three out of four stories that involved Vachon and Nunkies Anonymous members?! Vachon somehow managed to get story control! Tracy Sue began to feel more confident. Apparently, something was up here that was *meant* to be. "The same goes for the Shrine. NA..." Bons said. "We used to be Anonymous. Now everyone and their accountant knows where to find our hangout." Tracy Sue was staring calculatingly at the Scribe when she risked a peep. This seemed to give her courage to make a suggestion. "I just had a funny thought," Bonnie said. Tracy Sue nodded slowly. What had Vachon said? 'If the place fell down, we can always move?' Why wait? "So did I." Why not? They next spoke simultaneously. "What if we switched places?" Bonnie appeared surprised that she was on the same wavelength. "Why would the Vaqs want to move?!" Tracy Sue smirked to herself. Bons had slipped a little from her I-am-klewless act. "Because we can." Because we don't want attacks. Because we have no roof. Because the Shrine has fanfic fairies and a maitre-d'. The logic of that statement seemed to appease Bonnie. Her face spread into a satisfied grin, and she held out a hand. "Then I guess we have a deal." "Tomorrow?" "Tomorrow," Bonnie agreed, "but only until Conversion Day." "You're still having that?" "Of course. What're you going to tell Vachon?" "What're you going to tell Jules and Patt?" Tracy Sue countered. They both answered simultaneously. "I'll think of something." Then they shook hands. It was a deal. ********************************************************************* Fin for now... Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Tue Aug 17 06:57:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GYVp-0002XM-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 21:58:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2525; Mon, 16 Aug 99 21:55:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6544; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 21:55:56 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 21:57:32 EDT Reply-To: EAElias@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tammy Horn Subject: WAR:Vaqs: "Target Practice or What Happened To My Church?!" Part 1/2 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 22fc14741a5df59f3adf1433abb6d388 "Target Practice or What Happened To My Church?!" Part 1/2 Monday 8/16/99 After the ball game, and the loft/Caddy incident At Vachon's Church/Vaq Headquarters By Tammy, Felicia, and Teresita. The roar of the engines could be heard throughout the streets of Toronto as Vachon and his band of followers rode back from the ball game. They pulled up in front of the non-discript abandoned church, parked their motorcycles and headed inside, at least they started to. From the other end of the street, the roar of two more motorcycles could be heard, as Rae and Felicia (?) rode up from the party they had disappeared to during the ball game. "You know, that was a really good...Ow. Stupid box." Tammy said as she stubbed her toe on one of several boxes that had been left in the front portion of the building. "Who the heck put those here?" Teresita just pointed to the boxes, each of them labeled "We B Toys". "Ooooh. That can mean only one thing, ladies." Felicia's eyes went wide. "Target practice?" The assembled Vaqs each grabbed a box and rushed into the Church in a procession that would do a tribe of hunter-gathers proud. "This is going to be so cool." Tammy said as they reached the nave and started to rip open the boxes like a group of five year olds on Christmas morning. "Anyone want a Nerf machine gun?" "You know, I didn't even know they had stuff like this." "Pass me that pistol?" "Hey, where's that crossbow I wanted?" "Did my action figures make it?" Cliff asked as the loft raiding party trooped in and noticed the mayhem "You mean those action figures from that movie I wouldn't say the name of during this War if my life depended on it?" Tammy asked, rummaging in her box full of Nerf stuff. "Yeah." "I think so." Tammy pulled another box over, "I think I saw them in here. Here, but do me a favor, open this over there," Tammy handed Cliff a plain paper bag with his purchases in it and waved him over to another part of the nave. "No offense, but I'd just like to keep my truck and be able to do silly things like pay rent instead of giving What's-his-name at the Studios my paycheck for the rest of my life." "Hrumph. Ok. I'll be over here if you need me." "Have fun, Cliff." Tammy looked around at the boxes surrounding her, she then started to dump out the contents. "Felicia, Tammy, I think we have a problem," Teresita said as she looked around the room at the assembled Nerf weaponry. "What?" The two other women said in unison. "Where are the targets? I don't see them." "Targets? You know, I haven't seen any either." "Great. Ok, so we improvise. Cliff, Echo, could we see you over here for a minute?" "Yes?" "What do you need?" The five put there heads together and talked quietly. "We need some targets to shoot at. Perhaps you could find some paint or markers or something and draw us up some on the walls?" "Don't you think that Vachon might get a little upset if we painted on the walls?" "Nah. It shouldn't sink in too much, we should be able to get it off the walls, no problem." "Well, I don't know..." "Come on, it'll be fun, a little bit of turpentine and no one will know what happened when we're done. It's for the defense of all of us after all. I mean, how can we have target practice with no targets." "Ok. What do you want?" "Hmmm, let's see here. Suggestions?" "LaCroix," Teresita suggested right off the bat. "The Caddy," Felicia piped in. "Before or after?" Cliff laughed. "Huh? Oh yeah, the caddy attack, how did that go?" "Good, we'll tell you all about it later. Anything else?" "I'll take care of my own target," Tammy said. "Let's get to work. You two make sure that Vachon doesn't get wise to the plan, use the Power Wheels Motorcycle if you have to. Or get him to take a shower" The five all smiled at that thought and as they fanned out to their jobs, Tammy pulled at Cliff's collar to steer him away from helping to distract Vachon. Felicia and Teresita continued to supervise the unpacking of the boxes and kept an eye on Vachon while the other three searched for paints to use for targets. "I found some paint," Echo called from where she was looking in one of the storage closets. "Eew. What a nasty color." Tammy scrunched up her nose as she open a can of fluorescent lime green paint. "No, this one is worse," Echo tilted the can of "evil pink" paint so the other two could see it. "Looks like something the Dark Perks would buy." "This has got to be some paint Screed picked up at the flea market and Vachon let him store here. Isn't there anything, well, normal in here?" After several minutes of rummaging around in the storage closet, the three erstwhile artists found some paint that they could use and promptly got to work on one of the walls of the nave. Tabs watched Cliff and Mouse painting the bulls-eyes..."Uh Ahem! It's a PG War Cliff. PG...paint him above the waist...ABOVE ...the ...waist!!!!" Soon there were several crude, yet mostly recognizable targets on the wall. "Tammy, who's that?" Teresita asked as she looked at Tammy's target: a modified smiley face with a very surprised expression and blond hair. "Urs, who else?" "Oh," Teresita squinted her eyes and cocked her head to the side. "Yeah, ok, I see that now." "Hey, I do landscapes, not portraits. Here, let me do this," Tammy reached up and painted in black letters "Urs" over the head. "Better?" "Much, but You-know-who isn't going to like it." "Well, You-know-who had better like it or I'll put him into another fic with my favorite Original Female Character, maybe blow him up next time." "Now there's a threat if I ever heard one." Tammy laughed, "Yeah, I'm sure he would be shaking in his..." Her eyes glaze over for a moment. "Sorry, mental picture of Vachon shimmying." Teresita passed a towel. "Don't go there, we'll never get this done." "Ok. Everyone ready?" "Ready with the targets," Echo said as she put the final touch on a very large raven painted on the south wall. "Ready with the weapons," Becky reported from the ranks of the Vaq Warriors. "Ok. I guess we should lay down the range rules....." "Tammy?" "Hmm." "You're being boring again, this is Nerf stuff after all." "Oh yeah. Good point, Felicia. Pick a target and have at it." The Vaqs lined up and began to fire at the targets spread out around the Church. Arrows, foam rubber crossbow quarrels, foam balls, and various other things fly at the wall and promptly fail to adhere in any meaningful way. As they continued to let loose on the painted objects on the wall the Vaq Archer leaders call a quick conference. "This ain't workin' buddy." "No. It's not. What do we do know?" "Well. You ever see the movie...." "Tammy. Don't do it, no lawsuits." "Ok, that movie about the boy that didn't want to grow up, but did and had to go back to his favorite place and rescue his kids. Remember the target practice they had? We can do that," Tammy said, dipping the tip of a quarrel in a can of neon blue paint sitting on the floor next to her. She leveled the crossbow and squeezed the trigger. The quarrel hit the target, it doesn't stick but it leave a nice blue smudge right between the eyes of the smiley face and a trail of paint dribbles leading up to the target. "Ooh. I like the way you think girl." "Ok. Y'all. Listen up. New idea. Everyone grab a can of paint," Felicia called to get everyone's attention. They explained the new plan on keeping track of hits and it was not long before the walls, floors and even the ceiling of the church were splatter painted from the Nerf weapons. Rae stood watching the chaos that was beginning to ensue. "I think it's time for a smoke" she mumbled under her breath as she searched the pockets of her jacket for one of her clove cigarettes. "Hey guys? ... Ummm, ladies?... Cliff?..." Realizing no one was listening, Rae yells over the din, "I'm going out to check on the bikes." As Rae heads for the door, she takes one last look back over her shoulder and smiles at the mayhem. She walked out of the Church, followed, unbeknownst to her, be Vachon Fin, part 1/2 From - Tue Aug 17 06:57:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GYYv-0004SH-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:01:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6451; Mon, 16 Aug 99 21:59:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6893; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 21:59:09 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 21:49:33 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Just another Day at the Shrine To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 592aa6eedc5fdbf2a3dfed2f8c3c29fb NA: Just Another Day at the Shrine by Patt Elmore Time: Monday morning, August 16, 1999, with flashbacks to Sunday Where: In and around the NA Shrine Bonnie used with permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sunday hadn't started out so badly for the Third Cousin. After a rather rowdy, but invigorating, pillow fight, Patt had been able to sleep late and indulge in a quiet reverie in her own personal sensible shoe closet space. It went to heck from there, and Monday promised to be no better. There had been the rude discovery that her nemesis, Spark, was one of the ex-vampire construction workers currently in residence at the Nunkies Anonymous Shrine. Finding out that she was again sharing air space with the dark-haired ghoul had pretty much unnerved Patt. Vampire or non-vampire, having Spark anywhere within a 100-mile radius of her person made the Third Cousin want to bolt. Instead, she got inebriated. Although she loathed this type of behavior, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. And, it *was* all Jules' fault. The High Priestess had invited her for a private drink and one did not turn down a HP's request. Not unless one wanted additional grout work, and Patt was already serving concurrent lifetime sentences, as it were. Patt vaguely recollected Jules' arrival at the Docks, and the subsequent arrival of the Spaniard. Seeing Vachon outside her harddrive had been fun, and confirmed her suspicions that a mortal V-Man made a good drinking buddy. The Spaniard had further ingratiated himself to Patt by rescuing the Third Cousin and Jules when the women were approached in the parking lot by thugs (not DP, just regular), allegedly intent on rendering bodily harm. Patt made a mental note, then moaned at the ache it caused in her head. Sobering up is the pits. Patt had been leery of returning to the Shrine, but Jules gave her a convincing speech regarding maturity and responsibility. That, and allowing Patt to bring her best buddy and companion, Fred, back to the Shrine, along with Watson and Devo. Cuddling with the Miniature Pinscher gave Patt a great sense of security, since Fred wasn't too fond of Spark, either. Anything that upset his *mama* disturbed the scrappy little dog, and he'd been privy to Patt's tale of woe regarding last year's encounter with the then vampire. Back at the Shrine, Fred had insisted on assuming guard position on Patt's bed, even ignoring the roaming cats to remain at his post. Fred might be small, but Spark would definitely feel the wrath of ankle-high teeth should the ex-vamp be foolish enough to disturb his mistress' rest. But, instead of Spark beckoning Patt back to shadowy consciousness, it was a telephone shoved under her ear. Patt had been given the copy of Tiff's arrest warrant when one of the addicts found it on the missing addict's pillow Sunday morning. Since it had no bearing on construction, i.e., not Patt's responsibility, she quickly stuck the document in the NunkMommy's mail nook and promptly forgot about it. Tiff, on the other hand, did not, thus the frantic call regarding the early Monday morning arraignment. A very grumpy Patt attended the hearing, but purposely left her Platinum credit card at the Shrine, so that humanitarian feeling would not usurp her good fiscal sense. Once bail was set at the astonishing amount of $5,000.00, Patt used the hated-again cellular phone to advise the Scribe (and, it seems, Shrine Treasurer), of Tiff's need for funds. That task accomplished, Patt decided that delaying her return to the Shrine for as long as possible merited substantial consideration. Since her stomach indicated that it might now be able to handle food without ejection, Patt decided to stop at a small cafe across the street from the Jeweled Peach and have some breakfast. As grits were not on the menu, though she had tried several times to convince the chef that they were a palatable item, Patt settled for lightly buttered toast and a slice of ham. She was finishing her second cup of coffee (alas, no chicory) and perusing the headlines of the local newspaper when an item caught her eye. ****REVENUE CANADA TO CHANGE NAME TO CANADA CUSTOMS AND REVENUE AGENCY IN NOVEMBER**** Patt abhorred watches on principle because she didn't like to have her life measured by a timetable. The Third Cousin, when asked, was very fond of explaining that she possessed a terrific internal body clock, and there was always a way to discover the time if it was absolutely needed. Patt checked the internal clock, and the sun outside, and figured the time to be well past 9 a.m. She confirmed this by annoying an elderly gentleman who advised her that affordable wrist watches could be purchased at her local K-Wal. Patt thanked the man, who told her that if she and her annoying puppet continued to harass him, he would notify the authorities and have her hauled away. Patt gave the man an odd look, figured he was senile, and excused herself. Five minutes later, she was out the door and headed toward the Shrine. As suspected, the NA residence was in pandemonium. Revenue Canada employees were trying to line up the addicts into neat rows, figuring they were customers come to file their income taxes. To expedite service, the RC staff were trying to force tax forms on the addicts, who promptly shrieked and ran away. Pectin, his expression even more sour than usual, was nose to nose with Kriel, demanding that the construction foreman explain "Just what the *bloody* blazes is going on?" Kriel, in turn, was giving Pectin a look which, if he had still possessed vampiric status, would have spelled hideous doom for the tax administrator. It was an unfortunate Patt who burst into the room, catching the attention of the posturing males. Pectin and Kriel turned simultaneously and shouted, "YOU!" To his credit, the former RCMP got to the woman first. "I demand an explanation!" Patt blinked twice. "To what?" "As to who authorized this unapproved remodeling to our agency offices?" "Oh." Sometimes, God smiles, for at that exact moment, Bonnie, looking personally tranquil, happened to enter Patt's peripheral vision. The Third Cousin quickly pointed at the passing Scribe. "She did! She's our club secretary and treasurer. She's the one you need to talk to, Mr. Pectin. She's also handling the audit. If you hurry, you can catch her!" Pectin glanced at Bonnie, then gave the mature addict a dubious look. "Remain here until I sort this out. That's an order." With Pectin's attention diverted, Patt offered the man's back her best curled tongue, soundless raspberry. "You may have a fine butt, Mr. P., but you're a pain in the a . . ." Patt winced as the feeling of being observed permeated her senses. She slowly turned to find Kriel watching her with a cold expression. "That was a pretty funny scene," Patt challenged the ex-vampire. "Why aren't you laughing?" Kriel held up a power saw. Dangling from the tool was a piece of frayed insulated electrical cording. "We have a problem." "What am I supposed to be looking at?" Patt asked as she examined the torn and exposed wiring. "One of your guys get angsty and try to sharpen his teeth?" Kriel's eyes hardened further. "Rats." Patt tilted her head and grinned with delight. "I guessed right the first time? Wow!!" "Rodents," Kriel said. "Little furry creatures which run around at night and spread disease." "Yes, I know what rats are," Patt replied sullenly. "What about them?" "This place is infested with them," Kriel explained. "If you don't get an exterminator out here immediately, you're gonna have big trouble." "I'll put it on the list," Patt said. "Anything else?" "Yeah." Kriel waved the saw and broken wire in front of Patt's nose. "Who's gonna cough up the cash for us to buy new tools?" Patt looked around and spied Pectin and Bonnie in animated conversation. Well, Bonnie was pretty animated. Pectin just kind of stood there and exuded steam . . . Patt pointed at the feisty red-head. "See her? She handles all procurement authorizations. Talk with her." Kriel gave the Scribe a once-over look. "Nope. Ain't gonna touch it. I'll just send you the bill." With a curt nod, the ex-vamp walked away. After a quick sweeping look for signs of Spark, and satisfied that the dark ghoulie was not around, Patt scooped up a protesting Fred from her cot and headed for her sensible shoe nook. She opened the door and emitted a yelp. Three Revenue Canadians were sprawled out in her overstuffed chair and a filched Shrine divan, drinking tea and discussing rugby. "What goes?" the Third Cousin demanded in a shrill commanding tone. Fred pawed at his left ear and whimpered. "Pectin moved the employee lounge in here, because it's the only place that isn't tore up," one of the tax agents explained. "You're welcome to stay for a spot of tea, but, sorry, no dogs allowed." "If my little buddy can't come in, then I'm taking my business elsewhere," Patt hummpppffffed and slammed the door shut. Try as she might, Patt could find no place of solitary refuge in the Shrine. The sheer mass of people assembled in the building was giving her a severe claustrophobic feeling, though she rarely suffered from the disorder. It was time to punch out. "There has got to be a place where I can go to relax and recoup!" Patt cried. "A quiet little corner of the world where I'd be surrounded by friends and alleviated of responsibility and worry. There has to be a Nother place which would welcome a war-weary addict such as I." "Yip, Yap," Fred enunciated carefully two of the ten vocal sounds which, purportably, dogs are capable of rendering. "What party?" Patt looked down at the black and tan pup in her arms. "Yii, Yii." "Nother party? I haven't even gone to one yet this War." Fred tilted his head and snapped at Patt's nose. "Yii, Yap. Roahh." "Oh. The *Nother* party over at that Chateau de Armory, or something like that. Are you suggesting I go there tonight?" Fred loved his mistress, but was quite eager for her to leave and allow him additional nap time. He panted happily at the woman. "But," Patt whined. "That would mean I have to get dressed up!" "ELMORE!!! WHERE ARE YOU??" "Maybe a party outside the Shrine is a good idea," Patt said thoughtfully, already heading away from the direction that her searcher was calling from. "Come on, Fred. You can help me pick out something nice to wear." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ end 01/01 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Tue Aug 17 06:57:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GYeo-0004gx-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:07:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4718; Mon, 16 Aug 99 22:05:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7429; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:05:13 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:06:52 EDT Reply-To: EAElias@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tammy Horn Subject: WAR:Vaqs:"Target Practice or What Happened To My Church?!" Part 2/2 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0f68223dd155751ddca2126f85c2e532 "Target Practice or What Happened To My Church?!" Part 2/2 Monday 8/16/99 After the ball game, and the loft/Caddy incident At Vachon's Church/Vaq Headquarters By Tammy, Felicia, and Teresita. "Oops, sorry Lap," Sarah said as her pistol miss fired and the dart hit her square in the middle of the back. That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Any attempt at being serious about the practice disintegrated into a free for all as the Vaqs turned their attention toward more lively moving targets; each other. "Oh man." Tammy said as one of the candelabras hit the floor of the church. "Look out!" Donna said as she bumped into one of the pews, setting it to rocking. "Urban Commando time." Imajiru said as she tipped the pew the rest of the way over to serve as a bunker. In the chaos, no one noticed Cliff wandering over to where his stuff was stored until, he pulled a very nice looking sword from his sleeping bag. "The Sword of Darkness!" he brandished it about testing the heft. A couple of practice slashes get a wee too close and make Melissa, Maria and JoAnne back up giving Cliff plenty of room. He makes a jab or two chasing yet a few more Vaqs from the room. "Cliff!" Becky yelled. Cliff spun, knocking over the statue on the Virgin Mary. It fell on a duffel bag that had been stowed next to the pedestal that held the statue. Becky moved up behind him and grabbed the Sword Of Darkness from Cliff's grip. "Cool it Sulu" The mayhem continued as layers of paint cover the walls of the nave, obscuring the original targets. Undaunted, Cliff pulled a medium-size whip from his sleeping bag and started spinning it around his head. He nearly took off his ear as he tried to crack it. He tried again, catching it on a standing candelabra and sent it spinning across the room. Disgusted he tossed it down where Mouse whisked it away before he could miss it. He walked back over to his sleeping bag which the Vaqueros were beginning to dread. He pulled out a longer black and white whip and sent the Vaqueros scattering as he tried to pop the whip. He sent flaying strips of paint off the walls and even pages out of the hymnals. Tammy braved the lash and slipped under the blows to quickly snatch the whip from his hand.... "And your NOT Indiana Jones either, mister!" Cliff pouted and started to nonchalantly creep towards his sleeping bag but it had already been confiscated along with his dagger and even his sharp finger cuffs. "No way Jose" Teresita shook her head. As she moved the sleeping bag, something else fell out. "And I don't even want to know what that is, or what you're doing with it, she said, indicating the Cat O' Nine Tails. "Out of ammo." Becky said. "Me too." "Me three." "Now what are we going to do?" "Well," Teresita said, paint covering her hair. "I guess we need to find something else to work with." "Look what I found!" Cliff cheered as he opened a forgotten box in the corner. "Silly String !" "That'll do." Soon the entire church was covered not only in twenty different colors of paint, but was festooned by strands of Silly String . When that ran out, the Vaqs once again began casting about for something else to use to keep up the lighthearted fun. The horsing around quickly degenerated into an old fashioned pillow fight as Teresita picked up a pillow to protect herself from a final Silly String attack. That only earned her a thawap to the body with another pillow, and she retaliated. All bets were off after that. The pillow fight ended abruptly however, in a shower of down and feathers that drifted all over the wet paint and sticky Silly String . "Ok," Vachon said as he bopped Becky upside her head with a pillow. "What exactly is going on in here?" Rae stood in the doorway with a helpless look on her face "He wanted to see what you guys were up to." Rae said in a way of explanation. The last of the downy feathers drifted to the floor as the Vaqs looked around sheepishly at each other. Paint, feathers and Silly String clung to every inch of the Church and the assembled Vaqs. The place looked like a disaster area. "Busted," Tammy whispered to Teresita. "Don't worry, we'll clean it up, Vachon. Come on guys." The Vaqs began to make a half-hearted attempt to clean the mess off the walls and floors with Vachon watching over the progress, or the lack there of. "You know, the more we work on this, the worse it gets. I think I'm just moving the stuff around." Felicia grumbled as she made an attempt to clean a section of floor near the front of the Church. 'Hmm. I think I have an idea,' Tammy thought as she looked around for something to heat up the quickly solidifying mass of goo. She searched until she found a lighter that Vachon used to light the candles now strewn around the Headquarters. As she held the lighter to the goo, it began to smoke and smolder and small flames licked at some of the feathers. Remembering her Girl Scout training, she quickly grabbed a fire extinguisher and put out the small fire in a blast of foam that smelled distinctly of burned feathers, paint and what ever stuff Silly String is made out of. "Ew. What's that?" JoAnne asked. "Nothing, everything's under control," Tammy said as she tried to cover up the charred piece of wall. "Well. I for one am going to try to get some of this stuff off of me. Maybe if we let it sit we can peel it off in the morning," Becky said as she headed toward the showers. Each of the Vaqs took a turn at the shower, after the last of them were done and they were all settled down for the time being, the door of the church once again opened. "Hey everyone I'm back." Tracy Sue called as she walked in. Sniffing the air, she wrinkled her nose as she took in the destruction around her. "What happened to the Church?" "Target Practice went a little overboard. We're cleaning up." Cliff tried to sound innocent while all the Vaqs tried to look as if they were only innocent bystanders to the destruction. Tracy Sue reached for her whiffle bat and began to pull it out of it's holder. Thinking better of it, and realizing any exertion would just force her to breath more of the rank air permeating the Church, she turned on her heel and walked out of the Church. "Busted Big Time." Teresita said to Tammy From - Tue Aug 17 06:57:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GYpx-0003MC-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:18:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2631; Mon, 16 Aug 99 22:13:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8041; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:13:09 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:01:59 EDT Reply-To: WarVaq@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Rae Plachecki Subject: War: Vaq: Stargazing To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1b1b7126205bf08c3319ac8516179e6a Stargazing Time: Monday, August 16th, after Target Practice 1 but before TP 2 Location: Outside the Church Those in cahoots: Rae, Tammy, Felicia As she seated herself comfortably on the steps of the church Rae is startled by the sound of a match being struck. "Here." A soft whisper of a voice says from the darkness. "Thanks Vachon." Rae bends her head and lights up. "It's a beautiful night out, isn't it? Living in Minneapolis, I never get to see so many stars. Too many lights there." Vachon tilts his head back and pauses "You know, you're right. I never stop to look at them anymore." Moving slowly, Vachon sits down on the steps beside Rae. "I'm glad you're here." Vachon nudges Rae's shoulder. "It's nice to see a familiar face among so many new ones." "I'm glad I came. We had a good time last year, didn't we." Rae said nostalgically, as she returned Vachon's shoulder nudge. "I'm just glad the camels are gone." Vachon gave Rae a half-grin, stands up and extends his hand. "I thought we were going to check on the bikes." "Oh, that's right." Rae stubs out her cigarette and gets to her feet with the help of a strong hand. "So Vachon, how does it feel to be mortal?" Rae asks as they stroll toward the bikes. Vachon pauses, contemplating the question. "Different." Knowing Vachon as a man of few words, Rae accepts his answer as they continued on. They arrive at what looks like a Triumph dealer showroom. Black bikes, gleaming in the moonlight, all of them lovingly personalized by their respective riders. Vachon walks over to one with blue detailing. "I took good care of it while you were gone." "Hey, how did you know that one was mine?" Vachon moves to the rear of the machine, holds up the license plate bearing, "RAE'S" in big letters and raises an eyebrow. "Oh" Rae grins. "I tinkered with those that were left here from the war last year. It gave me something to do. I hope you don't mind what I did to yours." Rae walks over and looks at the area that Vachon is pointing to. In small delicate rolling script the single word shone out, "Javiette". "I thought it should have your Vaquera name on it." "Hey, not bad." She quickly hugged Vachon, "Thanks." A sudden yell in the church catches Vachon's attention. "Rae, do you know what is going on in there?" Rae mumbles softly. "WHAT did you say? Target practice? On what?" Vachons voice rises at each question. "Hey V-man, it's war. Their just practicing." Rae grins at the look of incredulity on Vachon's face. Vachon turns on his heal and heads for the church at a quick clip. "Hey! Wait up!" Rae starts running after him. Rae arrives just in time to see Vachon snatch up a pillow and make a beeline for Becky. *************** And we now return you to your scheduled programming: Target Practice Part Deux From - Tue Aug 17 06:57:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GYpz-0003MC-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:18:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2643; Mon, 16 Aug 99 22:14:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8287; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:14:58 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:09:04 -0400 Reply-To: cousinhelene@JUNO.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Heather Williams Subject: WAR: Mercs: Anyone Need A Nose? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 545522e0e9d02df575dc9c8f11bdaa76 War: Mercs: Anyone Need A Nose? Time: After "There's Profit in Pesticide" by: Heather Joan Williams and Shelly All was quiet in the costume loft. Too quiet for comfort. When they'd gotten Mildred's message of "There's a WAR On!" Heather and Shelly had *rushed* up to Toronto, only to find nothing for them to do there! Heather sighed, contemplating making a new dress for herself, just to pass the time. The GHP wouldn't turn a strange shade of green when she found out that some fabic had been used for a personal purpose, but what the GHP didn't know, couldn't hurt her, right? Lazily lying on the floor, Heather was trying to reach the "play" button on the CD player without actually getting up. Shelly was off somewhere, sniffing between the racks of clothing. Just as her fingers brushed the button and the music began to play, Heather caught the sound of a growl off to her left. Leaping to her feet, she hunted down her hunting dog. As she rounded the corner of a rack of tuxedos, Heather wheeled to a stop: Shelly was locked in growling, hackle-raising stare contest with a lil' ratsie! Afraid the dog would harm the furry creature, Heather grabbed her pooch's collar. She then picked up the lil' ratsie, who heaved a minature sigh at being saved from the dog. "What are you doing up here? I thought Screed was supposed to keep ya'll out of the house, let alone allow somebody to stray all the way up to the attic! I suppose I'll have to take you downstairs. . ." Heather tucked the lil' ratise into one of her roomy pockets, where it curled up for a nice nap. Then, she turned back to her dog, who was gazing up at her as if to say "What's next?" "What's next is that we have to find something to do! I think I'm going to have to take the plunge and list you as a Merc in your own right. So, let's find somebody who needs a nose!" And with Shelly leading the way, they headed downstairs to visit the Mommy General. ************************************************** (That's it, folks! Anyone have a job for my Beagle? She can sniff out a wiener in a pile of hamburgers!! C'mon people! We're bored!) bises, cousine helene (heather); cousinhelene#juno.com ratpacker, UFer, ballet punk, honeymoon knightie with diviant tendencies VAL, FKXS, Merc Costume Queen, keeper of the bicycle horn Goth Goddess, complete with faithfull followers ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Tue Aug 17 06:57:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GYq0-0003MC-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:18:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2661; Mon, 16 Aug 99 22:16:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8572; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:16:43 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 21:09:17 -0500 Reply-To: CLone Star Software Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: CLone Star Software Subject: War: N&NPack: Coloring Hair Can Be Dangerous and Helpful (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f01a53d4b74f27c2b1e1b8d622756596 WAR: N&NPack: Coloring Hair Can Be Dangerous and Helpful by Marci C. Time: Friday, Aug 13-during the same time period as the Raven party. All persons used have granted permission. Having traveled to Toronto from Texas, making stops along the way to collect Monique, Shannon, Cheryl, Laila, and Wendy, Marci was ready for a quiet, peaceful evening in which to catch up on some much needed rest. The others were out somewhere and Marci decided to take advantage of the rare lull (when the Nuts got together peace and quiet were not the norm) in activities to take a nap. She'd just stretched out on her bed and closed her eyes when the door to the room burst open and her roommates entered, all giggling and talking at once. "Get up, Marci!" Monique said, pulling at her arm. "Wait'll you hear what we're going to do!" Marci sat up and eyed the others. She noticed that Cheryl and Laila looked a little apprehensive. She also noted Wendy carrying a rather large bag in her lap. "I'm not sure I want to know." Marci said. "We're going to all become redheads!" Shannon said, laughing while Wendy smiled, looking only slightly nervous. Marci considered for a minute. Her 'natural' hair color had long since become silver and the idea of being a redhead held a certain appeal. "Sure, why not?" She said, gamely reaching for the bag Wendy held. "Let's see what sort of shade options we have here. " She pulled out the six packages of hair coloring and studied the colors before deciding on a nice reddish brown shade. "Let me guess, the magenta one is for Monique?" Marci asked. The others laughed and nodded. Soon they'd each chosen the color they wanted to be. "I just hope this won't be too garish." Laila murmured. "You know that in my job I have to be very conservative in how I look and dress." Wendy looked at the color that Laila held and then at Laila's hair. "It'll be fine. You already have some red highlights in your hair and this will just bring them out some more." She said in a reassuring manner. Grabbing towels from the linen closet and raiding the kitchen for some plastic wrap to put around their hair, they didn't want to stain anything once they had the dye on their hair, the six women headed back upstairs. Everyone opened their box of dye and mixed the ingredients. Laila sat her bottle down on the counter, as did several others. Most of the people placed their bottle to the right of Laila's but Monique was distracted and didn't notice hers was placed to the left. Several minutes of mild chaos followed at the end of which all six women had a vague resemblance to partially dipped Easter Eggs that had been wrapped in plastic. The spent the time needed for the dye to work discussing how nice it was to see their other faction members and wondering what adventures this war would bring. Finally it was time to rinse out the dye. Wendy and Cheryl went first, and everyone agreed that they both looked wonderful as redheads. Marci and Shannon were next and both laughed as they discovered that they now had almost exactly the same colored hair. Monique and Laila were last. Monique came out first her eye's wide. "Gee, I'd have thought that shade you chose would have been a lot more, um purplish." Cheryl remarked. "It IS a lot more purplish," Monique replied, "I've used that color before." "Your hair isn't very purple, Mo." Shannon said. "That's because, somehow, I got the wrong bottle." Monique said. Wendy looked around at the other four women in the room, none of whom had even remotely purplish hair. "If you didn't get your bottle of color," Wendy began. "Laila, must have." Marci finished a look somewhere between panic and hysteria on her face. They heard the sound of the shower shutting off. Cheryl reacted first. "Quick, she's going to look in the mirror and then KILL us! Let's get out of here!" Cheryl pushed the others toward the doorway. Marci grabbed the key, said a silent prayer of thanksgiving for double-keyed deadbolt locks, and followed the other out. Closing the door she locked it from the outside just as a series of shrieks began issuing from the room they'd just left. In the lobby, Laura and several other N&N Pack members jumped in alarm. "What is THAT!" Laura asked. "Don't know, maybe we're under attack." One of the other's replied. "You go get Soul and Susan, while the rest of us try to find out what's happening." Laura hurried off to Soul's office and pounded at the door. Soul and Susan were in the office checking over the lists of supplies and trying to make sure they had the theater as well equipped to face War as possible, when they were both startled by someone at the door. From the intensity of the pounding it sounded serious. Susan, who was closest, opened the door and Laura almost fell into the office. "What's wrong?" Soul asked. "Someone's screaming, may be under attack." Laura panted, having run all the way from the lobby to the second floor office. Susan and Soul both headed out to see what was happening. It wasn't difficult to locate where the problem was, they just followed the sounds of the screaming. Just outside the shower area, they found all of N&N Packers still in the building standing in a semicircle staring at the door to the shower room. Susan noted that the door was being shaken rather forcibly, by whomever was doing the screaming. This close she could also make out that this same person was threatening to wreck havoc on... " The Nuts." Susan said shaking her head as she made out the names being yelled. Soul stepped forward. "What is going on? Who's locked in there?" She asked. The others parted to reveal the Nuts. Soul looked at them. "I don't remember you all being redheads earlier tonight." She remarked. "We all sorta decided to color our hair." Cheryl said. "And Laila got Monique's bottle of dye by mistake." Wendy added. Soul looked at Monique, who decided that she was more comfortable behind Marci. "Monique was going to be a rather vivid shade of magenta." Marci explained. "Laila got it by mistake and it's not exactly in line with how she needs to look for work." Soul closed her eyes. "Yeah, I can see where that would be a problem." She thought for a moment. "Listen, I'll try and calm her down, but I think it might be wise if you," she looked at the five remaining Nuts, "all go for a walk or something." "Sounds like a plan to me." Shannon said, heading swiftly for the nearest exit. Cheryl, Wendy, Monique, Laura and several other N&NPackers, who decided that some nice, fresh air sounded very good right now followed her. Marci waited only long enough to hand Soul the key to the room before she hurried after her friends. Taking a deep breath, Soul headed for the door. ************************************************************************** "I still can't believe someone as petite as Laila could yell that loud." Laura remarked to the others. They'd stopped at an ice cream store and were having deluxe hot fudge sundaes to calm their nerves. "She's had voice training. She sings in a semiprofessional choir." Cheryl said between bites of her sundae. "Guess she learned how to project well." "She must have been the star pupil." Shannon said, dryly. "I wonder how Soul is doing?" Wendy said, as she finished the last of the ice cream sundae she was eating. "Soul has a way of calming people. I'm sure she's got things under control." Monique opined. "Besides, it wasn't like we deliberately switched the bottles or anything." "True," Marci said, "but I think it might be a nice gesture if we picked up a little something as a peace offering to Laila before we go back." The others thought of how angry Laila had sounded and quickly agreed to that idea. Feeling much better, they headed to some nearby stores. Some thirty minutes later they emerged with bags of souvenirs for themselves and a lovely sheer silk scarf for Laila. "Shouldn't we head back to the theater now?" Laura asked. Cheryl checked her watch. "We've been gone almost three hours, think it's safe?" "Only one way to find out." Shannon said. The group headed back toward the theater. They'd gone several blocks when Monique spoke up. "We really should have gotten something for Soul, too. She's our faction leader and she really saved us tonight." "Good point, but where are we going to find something now?" Marci said indicating the residential buildings surrounding them. Wendy looked at the corner and blinked. She'd have sworn that just a minute ago it had been empty, but now there was what appeared to be a small kiosk there. "Maybe that place will have something." She said, pointing. They hurried over to it. A slender, dark haired woman was standing inside. "Can I help you ladies with something?" She asked. "Um, we're looking for a present for a friend of ours." Cheryl explained. "I have several nice things, let me see." The woman reached below the counter and brought out a long, thin box. Laying it on the counter she opened it. Inside was a small cube on a pendant. It was made of some sort of smooth, material that reminded Shannon of black jade. There was a delicate design etched onto the sides of the cube in gold. "Oh, that's lovely!" Laura breathed. "How much is this?" Marci asked, hoping that it wouldn't be so expensive they couldn't afford it. "Fifteen dollars." The woman replied smiling. "Canadian?" Monique asked. She smiled as the woman nodded yes. Less than a minute later they were headed on their way, the pendant in a small bag. If any of them had bothered to look back, they would have been shocked to see that both the kiosk and the woman had vanished. Arriving at the theater, Shannon pointed to the plastic alien somebody had placed in one of the old ticket booths. "Gotta be Carrie B.'s handiwork." She said, laughing. Cheryl opened the front door and listened. "No more screaming." She reported. Cautiously, the others followed her inside. They'd only gone a short way across the lobby when Susan spotted them. "You're back. You'll be happy to know that Laila no longer wants to murder all of you. Once she got over the shock and calmed down, she realized that it was an accident." She told the group noting the relief in their faces. "Where is she?" Marci asked. "We brought her something." "She's in the office, with Soul." Susan said. Laura said good night and headed off to bed while the Nuts went in search of Laila and Soul. Reaching the office, they knocked at the door and then went inside. Laila looked up at them, her hair a curly mass of magenta that seemed to almost be alive. "Hi guys. Sorry I yelled at you before." "Hey, we understand, and we really are sorry." Wendy said. "Maybe we can recolor it tomorrow and tone it done some." Monique said. The looks that both Laila and Soul flashed her made her add, "Or not." "I don't have to work for almost two weeks. I'll get it taken care of once I get back home." Laila said, smiling. Shannon held out a box to Laila. "Here, this is just a little something we got you to let you know how badly we feel about what happened." Laila opened the box and took out the scarf. "Oh! I love it. I can wear it with several of my suits." She exclaimed. Feeling much better, Marci handed another box to Soul. "And this is for you, for being such a wonderful faction leader." Soul smiled and opened her box. "This is lovely! And so unusual." She took the pendant out of the box. At that moment, Tammy, Mysterie, Michelle, Angela, and Amanda, who'd gone to the party at the Raven, burst into the room. "You are NOT going to believe what we just learned!" Tammy said, glancing around the room. She paused when she saw Laila. "Wow! Nice hair!" She said. The End Marci C (aka Nightlady) Proud Survivor of Wars 8&9 N&NP; NH Wife #17; MadNat; Sr Delight -DSS Convent; KHS; NA; V4S; TxKD;KB;GWDFC;NA; FoD; DarkNN; email: cstar@airmail.net, forevrnite@usa.net Web page: http://www.crosswinds.net/~forevrnite/index.html From - Tue Aug 17 06:57:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GYwF-0005SS-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:25:23 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4802; Mon, 16 Aug 99 22:20:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8856; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:20:50 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:18:27 -0600 Reply-To: Stormer Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stormer Subject: War: NPack: "So this is the deal!" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 014ec1cc0f8a02cea42df5b7b9ff2ca9 So This Is The Deal By Rogue Cousin Tammy Timeline: After the Party at the Raven at N&NPack HQ (Birds Of A Different Feather 1 & 2) and after Colouring Hair Can Be Dangerous and Helpful. ---------- ... "I really like that colour... Maybe I should become a pistachio nut!" RC Tammy said before realizing the trouble her words could get her into. The evil grins and the advancement of the Nuts caused her to back away ever so slightly. "Just wait ladies, I have news... BIG news." Tammy gathered her breath as she waited for all the attending N&Npackers to settle into a state more condusive to listening. "So this is the deal... Nick did something, put together, took apart, not quite certain exactly what it looks like some kind of cube... stick... Heck, for all I know it could have been the puzzle box from the 'Pinhead' movies." Soul and Susan winced. N&Npackers being finely balanced between Nick and Nat could see the flaws of both and one of Nick's big flaws was playing with things he shouldn't and not playing with the people he should. Tammy nodded in sympathy and continued, "Anyhow, now all the vampires are mortal, all the pieces of this thingy are scattered around Toronto and if Nick doesn't put it together again in time..." The Rogue Cousin stopped, all the N&Npackers had stopped paying attention to her and were whispering. Tammy listened harder .... "spspspsp... kidnap Nat.... spspspsps... Knighties will send Nick.... spspspsps ... Major smut potential." Tammy being as dark as she was could resist the urge to coup Nat and Nick up in room together... Besides she prefered a little fang action in the midst... "PEOPLE... As much fun as that could be, the NatPack is never going to let us get them together. They've probably already sent her off to some 'safe' place with some guy who looks like Kevin Sorbo!" The N&Npack looked a little dejected. "Besides you are missing the big picture! I made a couple of cell calls while these guys took the long way back in the limo. My contacts in the occult community in Edmonton..." The others looked a little confused. "I'm Wiccan." They all nodded understanding now, "They checked the reference books, and did some digging. Friend of mine is an Ex-Librarian at St. Joes college. They keep some of the Vatican's forbidden books there, she had once done some repairs on one of the books and saw this legend. If she's right the only thing it could be is a 'Galen's Cube'... My ex would love that... His wiccan name is Galen. If Nick doesn't put the thingy together in time, he's gonna be the only Vamp in TO. Major problem for us Nunkie lovers here... I don't know about you'se guys but part of his appeal is his fangs!!!" Susan barely supressed a howl of delight in the idea that LaCroix would be stuck as a mortal. Soulseeker looked thoughtful, "You're right Tammy... As much fun as it would be to pursue our normal goals," Soul looked at the now disappointed smut dispensers (re: The Pistachio Nuts), "Not saying we won't still try if we have time..." "There's always time for SMUT...." cryed Monique. "There's always room for Jello..." cryed Marci. "ESPECIALLY IN A HOT TUB WITH NICK AND NAT!!!!" The entire Nut entourage finished loudly. Tammy looked conspiratorially at Susan, "White Zinfadel or those funky suckers they had at the con??" "Both", Susan replied grinning. Tammy rolled her eyes. "So did you make any in roads with the Ravenettes? Janette?" Soul looked at the dark N&Npacker. "Why do you suspect that I did?" Tammy gave them her best innocent routine. No one was buying. "Okay so I proposed an alliance." "And..." Soul asked. "No takers... yet." Tammy shrugged, a little disappointed. Soul nodded, "Susan we have to plot." The others took this as leave to go. The Nuts started advancing on the Rogue Cousin again. She shrugged, "Alright girls... Have your way with me..." "She's talkin like a nut already..." Monique grinned evilly as they surrounded Tammy. "Hey Angela..." Tammy's brow furrowed, "what happened... You were with us outside the Raven, then you disappeared... What gives?" Angela grinned evilly and strolled away... -------------- Comments to tabby_katt@technowizards.com From - Tue Aug 17 06:57:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GYwG-0005SS-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:25:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4807; Mon, 16 Aug 99 22:21:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8921; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:21:56 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:24:51 -0400 Reply-To: Emma Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Emma Subject: War: Vaq: Vaqs and the Art of Cadillac Maintenance (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 45722eb4f53b4a32901e2504d8daea0e Title: Vaqs and the Art of Cadillac Maintenance by Emma Lighton Time: About the same time as Vaq: Take Me out to the Ball Game Four figures lurked in the shadows as near as possible to Nick's loft. They watched in eager anticipation as they watched the loft's current inhabitants pour out of the elevator and head for their cars. "Is that all of them?" Melissa asked. She'd ended up in a bad position to do a head count. "Looks like it." Joanne told her. Emma and Cliff nodded in agreement. "Right. Let's get the equipment and get moving." Emma told them. With the expected grumbling that comes with carrying heavy objects, the Vaqs picked up their supplies and headed out for the loft. They came to a stop in front of the garage door. "So, how do we get in?" Joanne asked, surveying the front of the building for a open door or window. "Garage." Emma told them, as she pulled a CPD brand garage door opener from her pocket. She pointed it at the door, and they all watched as the door moved upwards. As soon as it had risen enough, they all ducked into the garage's interior. Before them stood the object of their mission; the Caddy. Cliff dropped his equipment and moved forward reverently. His hands came to rest on the top of the nearest fin, and then started sensuously caressing it. "Cars are sexier with fins don't you think? More predatory." He murmured as he worked his way to the front of the car. "Cliff, you're drooling on it." Melissa told him. "Cut it out Cliff we have work to do." Emma scolded. Joanne stepped forward and waved her hand vigorously in front of Cliff's eyes. With his view of the Caddy blocked, the slightly glazed look left his eyes and he snapped back to reality, like Nick coming out of a flashback. "Sorry." "Think you can control yourself?" Emma asked him. Cliff nodded. "Okay, lets get to work." The Vaqs grabbed their tools and descended in a swarm on the poor unsuspecting Caddy. * * * * * Time: Somewhat later, inside the loft. "That's the last of it." Melissa told them as she dropped the last few parts into the pile. "Good. Now all we need is floor space." Emma said as she surveyed the loft. She could sympathize with the chorus of groans. None of them had realized just how heavy the Caddy was, even in smaller bits. "The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can go back to the church and collapse." She muttered to herself. They might be slackers, but this job was worth doing right. They quickly got to work moving various Knightie belongings, and rearranging Nick's furniture. Soon there was a nice, big clear space on the loft's floor. They then turned and began collecting the bits and pieces of the car. For the most part, the reassembly went of without a hitch. Then, when they were almost done, they made a discovery. "Emma, could you pass the fins?" Melissa asked. "I don't have them. Joanne?" "I didn't even detach them. They were still attached to rear end when Cliff took it to the elevator." As one, the Vaqueras turned to face Cliff. "What makes you think I have them?" He asked. Cliff tried to look as innocent as possible, as he shifted his arms to try and cover the strange flat bulges in his jacket. No one was convinced. "Come on Cliff, give them back." Melissa told him, gesturing impatiently. "I don't have them." "Cliff, we can see them under your jacket. Give them back or we'll..." Joanne paused, as she tried to think of a worse threat than taking back the Caddy fins. "Or we'll give your stuffed animals to the DPs." Emma finished. "You wouldn't!" Cliff's face filled with horror. "We would." Emma told him, giving him a glare that would make Lacroix have second thoughts. With a reluctant sigh, Cliff unzipped his jacket, and handed Melissa the missing pieces. * * * * * Time: Shortly after the end of the last bit. The Vaqs stood back and admired their work. Sitting in front of them, in all it's green glory, was the Caddy. It glowed with a showroom shine. "I wonder what the Knighties will do to us when they find out about this." Melissa mused. "Why should they do anything? It's working better than when we started, it's the original color..." Emma began ticking off points on her fingers. "It's all there." Cliff said, still pouting slightly. "And its much harder for any of the other factions to get at it." Joanne finished. Melissa shook her head. "I don't think they'll see it that way." "That's their problem. Okay, who's got the bumper sticker?" Emma asked. After carefully affixing the sticker, which said: 'Start Seeing Motorcycles', to the Caddy's rear bumper, they Vaqs trooped back into the elevator to make their escape. The End --- Emma (egl@operamail.com) Vaquera * T+VPack * DP heretic * War 9 Vet. "You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought." -- Star Wars http://members.tripod.com/lostshadows/main.html From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GYzY-0003l3-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:28:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4816; Mon, 16 Aug 99 22:23:49 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9028; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:23:49 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:30:00 -0700 Reply-To: "Laura K. Griffin" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Laura K. Griffin" Subject: WAR: DP: Highest Bidder 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 46173e372e7b844e90016dd4102e129a WAR: DP: Highest Bidder (01/01) by Laura Griffin Time: August 16, Monday afternoon Place: Dark Perk Mansion Laura, also known as the Dark CERK Perk, sat alone in her room at the Mansion on Mockingbird Lane. She stared at the computer screen, hit the 'refresh' button on her browser, and watched as it loaded up the online-auction house known as Vee-Bay. "Man oh man..." she whispered silently as the newest bid on the 'Nunkies in Repose' tapestry was displayed on the screen: Highest Bid: 1 barrel of Vermin Vanish! pellets Bidder: wekillem@xxxx.xxx "That's an insult! That tapestry is worth waaaay more than that!" she whispered to the empty room. The room didn't answer...outloud; the walls simply shimmered in response. "But...I can let that bid stand. No sense in over-bidding on it yet..." Laura wasn't at all happy at this auctioning situation, so she'd been secretly watching the bids and then using her own 'funds' to outbid anything that might look like a real threat to 'her' beloved tapestry. She'd treasured that War 9 trophy, keeping it locked in the special Lacroix-themed vault/closet in her room at the DP Mansion! It was simply an unbearable thought that she could actually lose custody of that prize! The Dark CERK Perk sighed deeply at the thought of her favorite Roman General, she became glassy-eyed, and a silly smile played on her lips. Several fantasy-filled hours later, Laura refocused her attention on the computer screen and hit the 'refresh' button. A new bid appeared: Highest Bid: One (1) Wiccan love spell and Six (6) Number Two pencils Bidder: willow@xxxxxxxxxxxxx.xxx "Ouch! That one could cause me some damage! With all the demons running around here hiding things, good pencils are hard to come by! I'll just have to overbid on that," she said as she grabbed her keyboard and began clicking away on the keys. Just as she was hitting the entry key with a satisfied grin, someone knocked on her door. "Uh...yeah....hang on....I mean....who's there?" she said in a panicked voice, switching the computer screen over to display a NightCrawler screen saver. "I'm home!" called a deep male voice from the other side of Laura's bedroom door. "John-Travis! You made it!" Laura opened the door to face her handsome teenaged son. "When you didn't show up in the Dark Perks' opening war posts, I was afraid you'd forgotten about me!" She threw her arms around her son and gave him a hug. "Sorry I'm late. I meant to be here sooner, but I just couldn't escape the Arizona desert 'til now. Besides, I had to go back to California first, check on the cats, and...." he paused to step away from his mother to reach into his black briefcase. "....I brought you something that you'd left behind in your hurry to get to Toronto." "Mr. Pointy!" Laura exclaimed, taking the hand-carved wooden stake from the young man's grasp. "Thanks for remembering that I wanted to add this to my weapon collection here in the Mansion, although.... we don't have a need for wooden stakes in Toronto right now." "Oh?" John-Travis asked. "Isn't this like Grand Central Station for Vampires? What's the what here?" "Oh yeah...you're late coming into the War, so you don't know the skinny. All the vampires aren't vamps now. Something happened to make 'em all mortal. But enough of this central plot talk. I've got to check on the auction." Laura went back to the computer and went through the refreshing ritual as she explained why the Dark Perks were auctioning off the tapestry. John-Travis listened intently as his eyes fell on the monitor: Highest Bid: Three (3) 20-lb bags of The Perfect Bean Bidder: Addictwatcher@xxxxxxxx.xxx "Addictwatcher? Mom...that's a little transparent, don't you think?" John-Travis looked down at his mother's face with a smirk. "You're gonna get caught if you don't come up with a new e-mail addy to bid from." "Pretty lame, eh? Well, I'll get a new addy for next bid. Mary'll kill me if I actually win the tapestry auction by using the DP's coffee supply!!" "Do you really think there's a chance that you'll get to keep the tapestry?" "No, my son. I really don't," Laura said solemnly, "but I'll be danged if I'm not going to put up a noisy fight to the finish! If anybody really wants Nunkies in Repose, they're going to have to pay *big time*!" She cackled wickedly. "And you're willing to risk the dark pink gods of wrath by engaging in a form of high treason?" It was a rhetorical question. The boy knew the depths of his mother's adoration for the buzz-cut DJ of NightWatch, and he knew she'd risk almost anything for Lacroix...or his image. "By the way, I've been rehearsing the new play," said the young aspiring actor. "It's a.....*challenging* role." "Oh really? Well, have a seat and tell me all about it!" So the mother-and-son pair of thugs sat together, discussing the play and keeping watch on the incoming tapestry bids. --------want to bid on the tapestry?-- You know you want it!------------ Cousin Laura -- The Dark CERK Perk http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Portal/6866/Laura.htm "Even though you're refracted, you're still you." -- 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile' From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GZBT-00068f-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:41:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6633; Mon, 16 Aug 99 22:32:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9566; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:32:54 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 19:04:45 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: Cuz: donum cactus (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 56972de989f452d131f9f4df9e28f00f Title: donum cactus Time: Sunday, after "I Bring You A Message Of Peace" and the NA Bellhops visit to the Cousinly HQ Place: CERK By Cousin Tser Cousin Tok, Arletta and McLisa (and the Cousinly Receptionist, of course) used with permission. * * * * "That's relatively odd," said Tok, distributing the certificates to Arletta and Tser, keeping her own and the ones for Bob and McLisa. Arletta threw the huge catalogs down on the Cousinly Receptionist's desk with *whump* making Cousin Isabella jump and her pencil streak across the paper on which a beautiful fashion design had been in the works. She muttered unintelligently. All three looked thoughtfully at their PTD certificates, but Tserisa was looking more thoughtfully at the cactus. "I've always adored this cactus," she said. "You can't get more NickKnackish than the cactus. I wonder if in all this it got mortalized too." "What?" Cousin Tok and Arletta in unison. "It's speculated by many to be undead. That Nick brought it across, perhaps by accident. People in the Caddywhacks, the NA, even some Knighties believe that this cactus is immortal." Cousin Tok and Light Cousin Arletta stared at her. "What? There *is* evidence. Think of all the damage to Nick's loft it's survived!" Tok and Arletta stared at the cactus. "So... if it was undead... do you think it turned mortal with the vampires too? Good thing Nick didn't keep orchids, I'm horrible at keeping orchids alive." Tser clutched the cactus to her, crooning to it happily, telling it it was a good cactus, and a pretty cactus.... Isabella quirked an eyebrow at Cousin Tser, having very little idea of her connection with non-humanoid life. Tok interupted Tser's cactus soothing. "Um, hey, why don't you give this to McLisa?" she said, handing Tser a Personal Tranquility Device certificate. "Will do," Tser said, wandering off in search of the Cousinly Listmum, the cactus clutched in one arm. * * * * * Tser found Cousin McLisa sitting on the floor in the Cousinly Salon with her lap top, grinning somewhat gleefully... and in that patented "evil Cousinly" way. "Knock knock," Tser said. "Hello!" McLisa said, brandishing an empty glass aloft. "My cat always says, 'When you meet someone, smell their bottoms!'" Tser backed off quickly. Obviously McLisa was slightly... schnockered. "That's alright, I'm no cat you haven't met before...," she said quickly. McLisa seemed more interested in something else though. Distracted. "The NA left us... presents. Certificates redeemable at any time for your choice of Personal Tranquility Device. They left one for you, too," Tser said, holding out the coupon in one hand, her cactus still clutched in the other. McLisa grabbed it and stuffed it in her pocket, and went back to looking at her laptop. "My cat always says, 'Tranquility is the top of a warm refrigerator and a bag of catnip.'" She then seemed torn between finding a warm fridge top or grinning an evil Cousinly grin at her computer. She seemed to settle on the computer. "Enjoy your... um... gift!" Tser said, wandering out of the Salon. She pondered for a while what kind of Tranquility Device she would decide on, and wondered how long until the coupon expired, and cuddled her cactus' pot gently. pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GZfl-0005QK-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:12:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7063; Mon, 16 Aug 99 23:10:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4746; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:10:17 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:10:00 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Enigma Variations (01/02) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f9ba5eccd48c75b5684594ef2b5ef505 Knighties: Enigma Variations (01/02) by Chris Rosmini The Loft After 10 PM Friday and Later Nick and the Knighties, Natalie and Janette used with the kind permission of their respective Factions. "Have lots of fun, dance every dance, and don't drink anything with a house label." Nick said, shooing the rest of the party-goers into the elevator with little pats and admiring glances, thinking how terribly young they looked with their festive gowns and excited faces. Somehow that hadn't changed; even mortal he looked at them across a gulf of centuries. He stood watching after them as the door clanged shut and the little rectangle of light disappeared, feeling happy that they were enjoying themselves, worried that they were going without the protection he had always been able to offer his supporters when they ventured on to Vampire Turf. He consoled himself with the thought that nobody but the Knighties actually _knew_ he was no longer a Big Time Vampire. The mere idea of what could happen to them if they seriously annoyed him would keep most of the younger vampires in line. Really it was their mortal supporters that worried him most. "Janette wouldn't let anything permanent happen to them", Nancy said, guessing his thoughts from long acquaintance. Nick smiled at her. "Yeah. You know, Nat does that too, reads my mind." the smile faded a little, "Of course so does LaCroix." he said with resignation. "It must be particularly legible." "Have you talked to her? Told her about ... ?" Chris gestured vaguely. "No," Nick answered, "I asked her to come by in a little while; I was waiting for everybody to go to the Raven. I thought we might have a bit more privacy." he said pointedly, looking around the room at the piles of luggage and sleeping bags and stray clothing. The three of them stood and contemplated the wreckage of Nick's stylishly Minimalist living space for a while, and the small group of non-party-animal Knighties hunched over their laptops or clustered around the big TV. Suddenly the elevator door rumbled open again, and Nick looked up with such naked hope in his eyes that the others were reminded that this was a Very Important Moment to him, and to Natalie. *How strange that we could ever forget. It doesn't seem like he's changed at all,* Chris thought, *and this is the one thing he has wanted for _centuries_.* Nat stood there holding her doctor's bag, her wonderful hair a little disheveled, her eyes shining and enormous. She said "You've fixed the noise in the elevator." as though wanting a little buffer of inconsequential mundanity between her and the subject that had brought her here in the chaos of a Gathering Natpack. "I replaced the whole mechanism. After the last time I thought it was the only way anyone would get any sleep around here in a War." Nick said, happy to be able to stick to trivialities for the moment. "You were _expecting_ this?" Nat said, unable to keep from the real matter at hand. Like the elephant in the drawing room, it was hard to keep your mind on anything else. Obviously the elevator wasn't going to deflect them for long, or even impending War. Startled by the headlights of an approaching Significant Conversation, Chris tore herself away from her awe at being in the same room with yet another Figure of Legend (*I didn't know she was so tiny* Chris thought, *I didn't realize she was so pretty!*) and exchanged Significant Glances with Nancy. Quietly they gathered the rest of the Troops, and slipped off up the stairs heading to the roof. The central characters in all this acknowledged the Discreet Departure with a lifted eyebrow and a chuckle, then Nat walked closer and reached out to lay her hand against his cheek. "You're so warm!" she said smiling, as her eyes filled with tears. *********************************** Some time and several blood samples (which actually _hurt_ ) later, Nat unwrapped the blood pressure cuff for the umpteenth time and said a little shakily "Well, no matter how often I do it you're still alive, and although I'll have to check these tissue samples in the electron microscope, I gotta say you seem to be human.". She carefully put away her tools and walked around the end of the couch to drop down beside him before she looked him firmly in the eyes and said 'How?". She listened silently as Nick spoke to her of the finding of the amulet, its legend and the ritual for using it, his scepticism through the preparations and waiting for the cosmically right moment. Her expression grew grimmer as he told her of the feeling of power, the pyrotechnical climax, the waking up in a flood of sunlight unharmed. Nick stopped, puzzled by her reaction, and astonished when she suddenly stood and brushed her hands together, saying "Well, that's that is it? Just another bit of Mumbo-Jumbo from the Bone Gods, another shortcut to salvation. We spend six years and change on scientific approaches and controlled experimentation, but you go for superstition every time!" "Nat, it worked, I'm mortal." Nick said in confusion. Rising, he took her by the arms and said "Look at me! What does it matter what actually worked, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else? What does it matter what the mechanism is. Didn't _you_ tell me that line about how "any sufficiently advanced technology will look like magic'? I don't know where the hell the thing really came from or who made it." She did look up, finally, with that little lift of her chin, that direct "I'm a big girl, I can take anything" look that had always made him catch his breath. "I guess I'm just worried that the cure could disappear as quickly as it came," she said with brutal honesty. "If it's not based in science, it's hard for me to trust it, Nick. You know that." "It could have been our work together that made this possible Nat, there could _be_ a scientific explanation, but it doesn't really matter." he said softly. "I couldn't have done anything without you. If you hadn't cared enough about me to help me, if you hadn't thought I was worth saving, I would have given up at the first failure, or the second, and moved on like always. If you hadn't thought I was worth risking your life for ... risking your soul ..." his mortal voice failed him, and he just looked at her with all his heart in his eyes. She looked up at him in wonder and he, ever so gently, brushed what might have been a tear or a trick of the light off her cheek, touching her hair lightly ... THE ROOF OF THE LOFT: THE RADIO SHACK: "Kiss her you idiot", Nancy said through clenched teeth, clearly expressing the sentiments of most of the Knighties clustered around the surveillance system monitor, that same monitor that had served them so fortunately in the last war. And he did. THE LOFT: Natalie closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers, the initiative somehow out of her control right now, and concentrated on the warmth, _the warmth_ of his mouth on hers, a sensation she had after all, been imagining for years. *Hell yes,* she thought, *Right now who cares how it happened, enjoy the result*. She put aside her awareness of the Knighties most probably eavesdropping, the screeching of tires outside the building, and other intrusions, and slid her arms around him delighting in the warmth (the warmth!) of his body. Burying a hand in his silky hair, she pulled him into a deeper kiss, feeling him smile at her unexpected strength. As for Nick, he exulted in the feel of her arms around him, held her face between his hands and kissed her eyelids softly and the corners of her mouth. Knowing for the first time that he need not fear arousing the Vampire, that the thundering heartbeat he felt was his own, he pressed his lips into the fragrant hollow just below her ear. THE RADIO SHACK: The silent watchers held their collective breath, watching raptly as the promise unfolded of a consummation many of them had wished for as devoutly as the two participants. (They may have felt a twinge of embarrassed guilt at their voyeurism, but rationalized that after all, they had watched virtually every other intimate moment these two had shared on a TV screen, what was so different now?) So they watched, as Nat caressed her demon lover now made whole again, and Nick paid passionate attention to her erstwhile vampire erotic zone, (well habits do die hard) and gasped, in collective shock, as the Elevator door crashed open and an extremely agitated dark haired beauty in party dress swept in. "Nicola! Where _are_ you?" cried the apparition. "We are getting this on tape, aren't we?" asked Chris. ************************************************* Continued in Part 2 Chris Rosmini chrismin@earthlink.net Knightie Co-Warleader From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ga0p-0000MY-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:34:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7152; Mon, 16 Aug 99 23:32:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6172; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:32:04 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:34:43 -0700 Reply-To: "Shana N." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Shana N." Subject: WAR: DP: Carouche is as Carouche does To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b64b20717e7ebbb39aa3057b1a80f520 **************** WAR: DP: "Carouche Is As Carouche Does" (01/01) Place: DP Mansion Time: Monday, 8/16; dusk by: Shana Nolan **************** Wandering into her room, a glass full of Pepsi in hand, the DP Angel settled into her favourite chair and looked out the large plate glass window, enjoying the view into the vast rose gardens that were behind the Mansion. Loosing her long auburn hair from the clip and letting it fall on her shoulders, she sighed. Peace at last. Casting a glance to her computer, she shook her head. ~25 new messages? Once more falling behind, Shana...~ Returning her gaze to the window, her eyes alighting across the large iron wrought cage in the corner, she nearly dropped her glass when she saw that it was empty. Fluffy had escaped. Setting the glass down and running for the hall, she caught Rose walking by. "Have you seen Fluffy?" Rose raised an eyebrow. "Um... " "The carouche. The raven carouche. The raven carouche named 'Fluffy?'" "Oh." Burp's keeper nodded. "Yeah, Jenny #2 and #3 have him trapped in the attic with the bats." Shana chewed on her lip. "Um, why?" "Seems he took off with Jenny #2's Edith doll. They saw him fly into the attic and trapped him in there." "Edith? Argh, okay." Walking back into her room to fetch something to goad the raven back, Shana shook her head. ~Hmm, wonder if a mortal carouche will still eat rats.~ Spotting her leather glove and grabbing it, she left, closed the door behind her and trudged up the stairs. * * * "No, Jenny, that's a bat." "Are you sure, Jenny? I think its the bird." "Really? Isn't the bird bigger than that?" "No, those are the vampire bats." "We have vampire bats? I thought all the vamps were mortal now." "No, they're the South American bats that prey on cattle. They're only nicknamed 'vampire bats.'" "Then wouldn't they be fake vampire bats?" Jenny #2 stuck her tongue out. "No. Hey, there it is, and there's Edith!" "Hey, Thugs, got Fluffy pinned up here, huh?" Jenny #3 grinned. "Yeah, we chased him. He's over there." She pointed a finger towards a corner where a pair of eyes was watching them. Shana nodded. "Okay," walking over, extending a gloved hand, the DP Angel ducked the sleeping bats. "Come here, feather head... come on, time to go back to your cage... " Fluffy gave a defiant "caw," and flapped his wings. The DP Angel sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. Walking slowly up, her hand extending out so the bird could get a grip on her wrist, she held perfectly still as the former carouche recognised the hand that fed it (rats, not the hand itself) and grudgingly climbed on. With her free hand, Shana picked up the doll and tossed it towards the Jennys. "Here ya go." Jenny #2 grinned and hopped out the door, murmuring "We'll get you all bathed and pretty again, Miss Edith, luv. Did the mean little birdie go and muss your dress, oh... " Lingering a few minutes longer, the elder of the two Thugs giving the raven on her arm an arch look, Jenny #3 poked a foot into the corner where the doll had been stashed. "Is the bird a klepto?" The shrug was a honest one. "Could be, he's usually in his cage or in my supervision, before that, ya never know." * * * Downstairs... "Eric! Stop eating the brownies right after I pull them out if the oven!" The male DP gave Anne, the DP's token perky perk, a huff. "But they're good." Anne nodded, snatching back the pan. "But still. Okay, if you do something else for a while you can come later and eat some more." Eric shrugged and wandered out of the kitchen, nicking a final brownie (as in stealing, not biting it and then feeling guilty later ), raising an eyebrow as a sudden commotion was breaking out at the staircase. "Fluffy!! Give it back!! Bad carouche! Oops... bad former carouche!!" The two Jennys and Shana rushed down the stairs, pursuing the black bird, a piece of odd looking jewellery in it's beak. Eric raised an eyebrow, finishing off the brownie. "Carouche filched a shiny pretty?" Shana paused, thought about the comment for a few moments, nodded and promptly bounded down the stairs once more in pursuit. Another typical day in the Dark Perk Mansion. Landing atop a really tall bookcase in the library, the raven cawed in triumph, dropping the "shiny pretty" at its feet, pecking at it with a pointed beak. Looking up from "101 Ways to Take Over the Republic," SC pointed up to the bookcase, noticing the group of Thugs suddenly standing in the once quiet room. The raven flapped his wings expectantly. Shana crossed her arms and huffed. "And I suppose it'd be pointless to goad him down with a rat." Jenny #3 wrinkled her nose. "Eww. Rats?" The DP Angel shrugged. "Carouche is as carouche does." At which point Mary walked in, easily following the gazes of the fellow Dark Perks up to the top of the shelf. Her expression was a slightly amused one. "So Fluffy stole the icon from my purse." Shana hesitated, not having realised the Godmother had walked in. "Oh, hi. Read the script, huh? The blonde nodded. "Read the script, saw the website, bought the soundtrack." "Should we get it back?" Jenny #2 nodded adamantly, quite happily sticking her nose in the middle of the conversation. "Miss Edith wants a playmate to go count the stars with." Mary and Shana exchanged glances. "I'll get the ladder... " *********************** Shana, dpangel@thegrid.net the Darth Perk Angel, DP 2nd in Command From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GaMG-00074L-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:56:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5533; Mon, 16 Aug 99 23:54:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7633; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:54:12 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:56:02 PDT Reply-To: "Jade M." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jade M." Subject: WAR: GSS: Awww! It's a UF moment. . . To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5ece4a647f054574eee9a48fe21afbf1 At the Cousin Meeting Time: Saturday, August 14th, around 9PM, Just after "After the Cousinly Meeting" by Kim Place: CERK Characters: Jade (Agent Silver) The General turned to leave after addressing the GSS, intent on either getting away from the leering group of cousins heading towards him, or cornering someone else. Jade stared after him for a moment, trying to decide what she was thinking. <> Shaking herself out of her revery, she suddenly realized that the very vampire, er, *man* she was thinking bad (or good ;-) thoughts about had turned back to stare at her. <> was Jade's only thought as her eyes widened and she looked up - and up - at him. <> "Jadelyn Esa Ashekevron, am I right?" LaCroix purred, smiling icily down at her. "Ye-yes, sir," Jade replied, too intimadated to be annoyed at his use of her whole name. "Hmmm. . . Aren't you part of the UF?" he asked, his brow furrowing in suspicion as he advanced a step forward, effectively pinning Jade against a row of chairs. "Ummm. . . Not for this war, sir." "And why not?" LaCroix asked, his gaze boring into her. <> a rational part of Jade's mind commented. "I-I," she stuttered, his visual hold on her causing her usual sense of sarcasm to vanish. "I wanted to work for you!" she finally blurted out. She must have said the right thing for the taller man backed off, allowing her to stand up straight again. "I see. Do you enjoy games, Jadelyn?" Caught off guard, Jade smiled bewilderdly and answered honestly, "Yes! Of course! Especially strip poker!" A delicate eyebrow raised as the General repeated her last remark. " 'Strip' poker? I don't believe I'm familiar with that." <> "Well, you see, it's actually a really fun game, but I have to go now. GSS business you know. Have to make you a vampire again, and all that." Jade extracted herself from the situation by speaking very fast and backing away even faster. As she hurried away, she heard him mumbling to himself. " 'Strip' poker? Must be a UF thing." <> Jade thought, smirking as she headed out of the hall. End! ----------------- This is for the UF and the question that arose, "What would I do when faced with LaCroix." Hope you enjoyed!! GSS Agent Silver ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:18 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GaYs-0001bk-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 00:09:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7411; Tue, 17 Aug 99 00:05:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9373; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 00:05:28 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 00:04:02 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Flying Bricks (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 771ee05c32341dd196f8c7a26f8954ca NA: Flying Bricks (1/1) By: Jennifer Lee Place: Sacred Shrine to Nunkies Time: Monday, August 16th, 1999 After Tiff is bailed out of jail Alicia and Patt used with their permission. Luke is a fictional character I created to use and abuse as I see fit. Jennifer rode Coup to the construction site, supposedly to see if the workers or her fellow Addicts needed help hauling heavy loads. Of course, that was just a convenient excuse. She was really headed over to stare at the muscular, shirtless members of the opposite sex. The fact that some of them had been alive for centuries only caused her to salivate overtime. Granted, the workers weren't worthy of the floods that dearest, most delicious Nunkies was, or even her semi-precious, immortal television beau from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," but they did at least deserve an admiring, extended glance and tiny rivulets of mouth fluid. In fact, so caught up was the soon-to-be-eighteen-year-old in the glory that was man, she decided to do something completely uncharacteristic of her semi-timid yet strangely... well, strange self. She whistled. The tall, lean, dirty blond worker she had been admiring cried out in surprise and reeled back from the wall he had been working on, nearly loosing his balance. As he grasped at the framework that kept him a good twenty feet in the air, he dropped the brick he had been about to fit into place. THWACK!!! Jennifer grabbed her horse's mane as the brick glanced off of her helmet. Her horse balked in surprise at the heavy object that had come crashing down on his owner, no doubt thinking how terrible it would have been if the thing had hit *him*. His little dance was more than enough to upset Jennifer's seat in her extremely woozy state. She slid from her horse's back and landed on her derriere with an undignified PLUNK. Needless to say, by the time she hit the ground, Jennifer was more than woozy. She was two steps shy of being out cold. Addicts who had witnessed the brick fall rushed to her side, as did the worker who had dropped it. "Oh my gosh!" Alicia cried. She moved quickly towards Jennifer, her auburn hair flying in her haste. The worker was the first to reach her. He helped her up, all the while exclaiming, "I'm sorry. Are you okay? That was so clumsy of me!!! It's just, well, you know, I'm so used to having all these 'special' abilities and..." He trailed off, all the while thinking how wonderfully stunning the Addict was in her tan riding breeches and fitted navy tank-top. He recovered himself quickly, saying hurriedly, "Here, let me take that for you," as he undid the chin-strap of her helmet and pulled it off, ostensibly to look at any lasting injuries to her head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he really just wanted a better look at her face. He shook himself mentally when he found he was gazing into the warm brown eyes of the addict. "Well," he said, "you look okay. How do you feel?" Jennifer nodded slowly, very, very slowly. "I'm fine. Mom..." Then, she promptly fainted. The worker caught her and held her up. A few seconds later, she was wide awake again. "What happened?" she demanded. "Where am I, and who're you?" The worker was stunned by the barage of questions. "I'm... I'm Luke," he stammered. Just then he was saved by the approach of another Addict. Her name was Patt, he recalled, and she was in charge of the renovations. She was also leading the injured Addict's horse. "Here's your horse, Jennifer," she said, holding Coup's reins out to his owner. "Are you okay?" "Jennifer!" Jennifer exclaimed. "By what right do you call me that?" "It's your name," Patt said, confused. "My name," Jennifer stated imperiously, "is Gaius 'Caligula' Caesar, and you would do well to remember that!" Patt was taken aback. Had she said Gaius *Caligula* Caesar, as in the insane emperor of Rome? Alicia, who had been hanging back just a little, not quite sure what to do, decided that now would be a very good time to exit. As much as a Roman might thrill her, she didn't particularly like the idea that he/she came in the form of a now highly volatile addict. "I am your Emperor," Jennifer/Caligula ranted on. "But, Bondama," she continued, taking the reins of her horse, "I thank you for bringing my trusted advisor to me. In that light, Incitatus and I shall overlook your earlier disrespect. You may go about your business, Bondama." Jennifer/Caligula turned on her heel to face the worker who stared at her in horror. He'd heard about the Nunkies Addicts, but he hadn't thought that insanity of this scale was going to be a problem. Patt, on the other hand, decided it was a good time for her to slink off. This was definately a problem. "You, peasant," Jennifer/Caligula was saying, "will come with us, now, and explain how it came about that I and my dear Incitatus are in this place." "And in these garments," she added after glancing at her clothes. Then she headed towards the Sacred Stables with Coup -who would have groaned in exasperation had he been human- in tow. When Luke didn't follow immediately, she screamed, "NOW!" in a voice that would make many an evil-doer and mischief-maker tremble. Luke hurried to comply. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End LdyofSable@aol.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GatE-0002LK-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 00:30:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5819; Tue, 17 Aug 99 00:26:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1262; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 00:26:53 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:43:59 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: Caveat Emptor (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ff17dfbcc50fd4b78c25b46046f64c7a Please put any inconsistency between this and the actual 'Nothers event down to grief over the loss of my non-sensible shoes. *sniff* NA: Caveat Emptor (1/1) Starring: Bons, Tracy Sue, Alanna, Cousin Lisl, Felicia, Rae, and Rae's boot Time: Monday August 16th, partytime Location: Chateau Des Autres After 'Take Me Out to The Ball Game' Companion Piece to 'Vaq: Vamos A Negociar' Even the magnificence of Harry's illusions failed to distract Bonnie from her niggling worry about the Shrine. Having a headquarters hazardous to her health was chiseling into quest to be a Shiney Happy Scribe. First it was no roof, then there was Shele's plastering accident, and now a brick had smacked Jennifer in the head, triggering the delusion that she was Caligula. Nunkies Anonymous had more insurance than most, but they didn't have *that much* insurance. Even the most prudential didn't have enough foresight to cover the things that had been going on at the Shrine lately. As for GROUT, sure the workmen had liability and were darling to ogle - Nunkies Anonymous was always first in line to objectify the sexes - but they were dangerous, too. They might not be vampires anymore, but they still had their bite. And tight... Bonnie shook her head clear. That line of reasoning never got anywhere, at least anywhere in a PG-13 war. Foreplay = Forearm. Once the magic show was over, Bons joined one of the groups of guests to which representative 'Nothers were giving a tour of the Chateau highlights. After a while, though, her eyes began to wander from the stone walls and pediments to her non-architectural surroundings. One of Bons' problems: good intentions, short attention span. She scanned her fellow audience and found two addicts, Lisl and Alanna, standing behind her. "Hey there, you two!" she whispered. "You've been keeping kind of a low profile around the Shrine!" Alanna leaned closer, cupping a hand around her mouth as she whispered back, "Do you blame us? The people who stay the longest around that place are the ones most likely to wind up in a box!" Bons rubbed the back of her neck thoughtfully. She'd taken to wearing scarves since her inflation, just to nip the curious in the bud. Overwhelmingly, she could sympathize with Alanna's attitude. "Right," she heard Lisl mutter behind her. "Six feet under... under concrete, no less! And sleep! I found more rest at the Fiendish Glow during one of their cider chugging contests than I did in what's left of my NA bedroom! And the slumber party! It should have come with a warning label: May Not Contain Actual Slumber." "I hear you," Alanna agreed. "I had an awkward moment today explaining why I was curled up napping on top of the Lancome counter at Eaton's, in between the Magie Noire display and the rouge Absolu. I was using my gift-with-purchase as a pillow. I'm seriously considering moving into my truck for the rest of the war. At least the Blazer had a bed I can stretch out on without any wrecking balls swinging in from above or failed sneaking-in attempts stepping on my head." Then the two addicts said the words every faction leader dreads hearing most: "Can't you *do* something about it?!?" Bonnie cringed. Ick ick ick. They wanted her to be *responsible.* This was a painful notion for the Scribe, because she considered herself as close to being a slacker as one can be without Vaquera status. She might raise her hand and *choose* to do something, but she hated being asked, as though she was the only thing separating a person from Safety and Certain Doom. This could be stressful, and stress dragged Bons even farther from her Shiney Happy Place where she was a Shiney Happy Scribe and into the land of This Is Your Duty. She was a control freak, therefore, she had freaky rules of controlling her surroundings. Her mind whirled, focusing on the relaxation exercises Patt had taught her. Bonnie swallowed a sigh. It was no use. Alanna and Lisl were right: the Addicts needed new digs until the renovations were over, some place where they could dream of Nunkies in relative peace, quiet and sanctuary. A place with a roof over their heads. She gulped, closed her eyes, and Made The Commitment. "I will. I'll get us a place to stay until GROUT's gone. I promise." Appearing satisfied, Alanna and Lisl went back to listening to the 'Nothers description of the carved oak paneling. Bons wasn't a devoutly religious person, but she wasn't above begging to the Fanfic Fairies for deliverance. Letting the tour group move on ahead, she slipped to her knees, feigning that she'd lost a contact (Fact: Bonnie didn't wear contacts) and clasped her hands together for a swift round of, "Please advance the plot. Please advance the plot. Please advance the plot. Please advance the plot." And there it was, her grail, shining like a beacon of pure hope circa 79 A.D! For, from her vantage point on the floor, Bonnie saw a boot. Stuck into that boot was a tiny, well-polished statue of LaCroix. Wearing that boot was Rae. And Rae was a Vaquera. Bonnie took this as a sign. A choir of angels topped by cowbells rang in her head. She squeezed her hands together joyously, tilting her chin toward the sky. "Thank you, fairy godmother!" Still on her hands and knees, Bonnie crawled across the intimately lit room where another tour group had just entered, then scurried next to the Vaq row (not to be confused with Velcro - a fastener for people with toddlers) of that tour group. Just to the right of Rae's boot was Tracy Sue's boot. Not nearly so tastefully decorated as Rae's boot, it did have the added advantage of being attached to the leader of the Vaqueras (and one Vaquero), the very customer Bonnie was after. She reached out and tugged the hem of Tracy Sue's leather pants, hissing, "Psst! Psst!" Bonnie froze and shivered, realizing that she disliked this sound very much, as it strongly resembled an air leak. Pause. Regroup. Try again. "Tracy Sue!" "I heard you the first time." Bonnie looked up expectantly at the Vaqmommy, expecting her to elaborate with a traditional form of greeting, like 'Hi!' or 'Quit touching the leather!' None was forthcoming. "Tracy Sue!" A sigh. "What?" "We need to talk!" Bonnie saw Tracy Sue glance up at the 'Notherly guide, around the room, specifically at Rae to the right of her and Felicia to the left of her (both of whom were now looking at Bonnie as though she had eggplant sprouting from her ears), then stare solemnly back at her. "Here?!" Bonnie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!" "*Now?!*" "Yes! Yes! And if you want to know how, what, and why, you're going to have to come with me. I'm begging here!" Rae muttered something in her leader's ear that might have been, "Put her out of her misery," but Tracy Sue continued to do a fair imitation of lichen clinging to a stone. "Dunno if I want to." Bonnie stretched up and grabbed the Vaqmommy by the lapels of her leather jacket and dragged her down to the floor. "Did you catch the magic show? How about we both disappear?!" Bons had just remembered her laws of physics: an object at rest tends to stay at rest until sufficient force acts upon it. This was doubly true of Vaqueras. Bons wished she had a cattle prod. Instead, she held on to Tracy Sue's jacket with one hand and started to crawl away from the others (and the 'Nother). Tracy Sue looked a little annoyed. "What are you doing?" "Sneaking to the window seat. Dragging you behind me." Tracy Sue finally shrugged, waved over her shoulder to her co-Vaqs (Rae and Felicia, not the classic TV comedian), and called to them that she'd see them later. Once Bons and Tracy Sue crawled up into the window seat, both sitting Indian-style and facing each other, Tracy Sue demanded details. "Now, what is it you're all so fired up to talk about?" Bonnie opened her mouth to speak, but paused. The atmosphere wasn't quite right yet. "A good chat calls for a good drink. Cerveza?" Tracy Sue seemed to mull it over for a second, then nodded. "Si, cerveza." Bonnie wiggled her fingers (this was highly unnecessary) and called, "Oh, Fanfic Fairies..." Tracy Sue took a swig from the beer bottle that poofed into her hand and observed, "Shouldn't you keep the overt stretching of reality to a minimum and save it for the real emergencies?" "Why?" Bons countered. "If you can use Fanfic Fairies, why not flaunt them?" She swizzled the stick in her own conveniently-appearing whisky sour. "The reason I wanted to talk with you was silly really." Bons paused, and added a small note of the confessor. "And a little bit desperate..." Tracy Sue's response was guarded. "You don't say?" "It's just...war." Bons clapped her hands together as if she just discovered a new element, sloshing her drink. "We're in the middle of a war, and you know how things get!" Now Tracy Sue gave a heartfelt nod. "Crazy." "Not just crazy. So...*combative.* Everybody's running around trashing everybody else, whoever gets the chance to just...hang out?" Now Tracy Sue gave Bons a very suspicious frown. "Who've you been talking to?" Bons patted her consolingly on the knee. "No one! That's my point!" She shook her head, then took a wistful sip of her drink. "Imagine a world where no one could find you, where you didn't have to worry about people coming after your faction and you could just relax and be yourself..." She let go of a long sigh. "Wow. Wouldn't that be great?" "I can see the advantage to not having anyone know where you were," Tracy admitted. "Being at the church has some small drawbacks. If only we didn't have to be there." "The same goes for the Shrine. NA...We used to be Anonymous. Now everyone and their accountant knows where to find our hangout." Bons peeped over at the Vaqmommy, wondering if it was time to make her suggestion. She was surprised to find Tracy Sue staring back at her, looking almost...calculating. "I just had a funny thought," Bonnie said daringly. Tracy Sue nodded slowly. "So did I." They next spoke simultaneously. "What if we switched places?" ************************************************************************ Fin for now... Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GbVf-0003Ux-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 01:10:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7752; Tue, 17 Aug 99 01:08:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4024; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 01:08:02 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 00:12:13 -0500 Reply-To: Nightstalker Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Nightstalker Subject: WAR: NA- Kidnapping and a Note To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a0b29233f6dacd4105ef4bb0ec9a003a Time: unimportant. Locations: Tucked into Patt's beer bottle, inside the toe of one of Bonnie's favourite non-sensible shoes, and in Jules' Toga pocket. The item in question: one note, hastily scribbled in bad handwriting. The words: I must write quickly, for I haven't much time. I know not which of you shall find this, but it doesn't matter. In my planner is a highly powerful spray. This spray carries the properties of making the sprayee not be noticed. It was created in another freak accident in the Lab. I have tentatively titled it SEP spray. To all observers, the sprayee becomes Somebody Else's Problem and not worthy of notice, but only if the sprayee is wearing something very odd, like a fake moustache or deely-bopper. We NA's look pretty weird all the time so this should not be a problem. One warning: This spray will not work on Nick, Vachon when he's brooding, or anything else that angsts, so be careful. I am being kidnapped not by any other faction, but by the Kristofferans from the planet Loell, and they are going to put me on trial for my crimes against good taste and send me to decorating school. I pray they never find KC. The combination to my planner is the call numbers of the only ship ever to make its own history, both on television and in the real world. My planner is in the hiding spot under the loose tile in the SCS. Use it wisely; there are only five bottles and each coat lasts only for about an hour. Yours in addiction, Chris NA's resident Mad Scientist From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gbf3-0007Zn-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 01:19:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3901; Tue, 17 Aug 99 01:17:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4397; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 01:17:43 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 01:09:18 EDT Reply-To: NirvnaJ@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laura Janvrin Subject: WAR: N&NPack: Theft of "The Holy Grail" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: de9dcfd23865175b17d7f0445fb3be61 WAR: N&NPack: Theft of "The Holy Grail"=20 By: Laura a.k.a Nir N&NPack HQ August 16, mid-morning Laura wondered around aimlessly in the theatre until she bumped into Angela. =20 Then they began to wander around aimlessly together. While they were wandering around they began talking about their favorite=20 movies. "I LOVE all those movies with that odd, simple sense of humor." Laura=20 commented. "Ya, me too," Angela agreed. "I just LOVE those Monty Python movies!" Laura looked up and saw the sleeping areas. She remembered that when sh= e=20 first showed up, she and Amanda had had a conversation about how good the=20 Monty=20 Python movies were. Amanda told everyone that she had brought the Monty=20 Python movies she owned, but didn't want anyone to touch them unless she's=20 around. Just then, she saw Amanda's stuff lying on the floor and, right in=20 the center, was her duffel bag containing the movies she had brought,=20 namely, her Monty Python movies. Suddenly, an idea popped in Laura's head. "Angela, we're both bored, right?" "No, we're walking around for the fun of it," she said sarcastically. "Want to go into the theatre and watch Monty Python's "The Holy Grail"?" =20 Laura asked excitedly. "But we don't have it here," Angela commented, a confused look growing o= n=20 her face. "No, but Amanda does," Laura said with an evil grin. "Ya, but Amanda said NOT TO TOUCH HER MONTY PYTHON MOVIES." "But Amanda is shopping and probably won't be back for awhile." Laura=20 smiled even bigger grin. When she saw the reluctance in Angela's face, she=20 added,"Come on Angela. We're bored and I don't think Amanda will kill us." "You obviouly don't know Amanda that well. She's possesive over Monty=20 Python." Angela said with a smile and a laugh at the thought of HOW=20 possesive Amanda was. "Come on," Laura pleaded with a hopeful look. "Alright," Angela sighed reluctantly. "I suppose but if we get caught= =85" "I know, I know. I'll take the blame," Laura said impatiently. As Laura rustled through Amanda's duffel, Angela stood as look-out and=20 thought about how dead they were going to be if Amanda caught them. A few minutes later, the two were cautiously making their way through th= e=20 theatre to the screening area. They got a few odd looks from other NNPacker= s=20 but they just smiled and continued on their way. Angela set up the speakers and other necessities while Laura set up the=20 projector and got the movie ready. About twenty minutes after their cautious 'borrowing' of Amanda's Monty=20 Python's "The Holy Grail", Laura and Angela were sitting in the theatre=20 watching away. They didn't get far. Amanda and Soul walked in the front doors of the threatre carrying the=20 supply bags and talking merrily away when Amanda stopped dead in her tracks=20 and got a sick look on her face. "What is it Amanda?" Soul asked worriedly. "Someone's watching Monty Python." Amanda answered in a voice that was=20 barely above a whisper. "Okay," Soul said, a little confused. "No one else but me brought Monty Python movies." Amanda said, still=20 speaking in a whisper. "Okay," Soul prompted her to continue. She was too late. Amanda dropped her bags and took off in a dead run fo= r=20 the theatre. Soul set her bag down on the ground and sighed as she headed for the=20 theatre to calm things down. =20 Angela got sick to her stomach when she heard the threatre door open. =20 She turned to see a very angry Amanda. "It was her fault!" Angela quickly leaped out of her seat and pointed a= t=20 Laura. When Laura turned and looked at Amanda, she thought that she was going t= o=20 puke. "A=85A=85Ama=85A=85Amanda," Laura had just enough time to stutter when A= manda=20 took off in a dead run for her. =20 Laura jumped over the seats to a couple of rows ahead and then back=20 tracked. She continued jumping over seats to the back of the theatre and to=20 the door. Angela was laughing hysterically at the two when Soul walked in. "Laura! Amanda!" Soul managed to yell out despite the laughter she was=20 trying to surpress. The two stopped and looked at her. Both were in the middle of jumping=20 seats. "Cut it out. You two are acting like children." Soul said, only=20 slightly more composed now. "Thanks for the compliment." Laura smiled with a smart aleck grin on he= r=20 face. Amanda started at her again. They got over one more row before Soul=20 stopped them again. "Laura and Amanda!" They both stopped in the awkard position of between jumps again. Soul shook her head. "Why don't you two get off the chairs?" While Amanda grumbled, Laura slid off with a smile. "Now both of you apoligize. If we are going to do well in this War, we=20 can't be fighting each other," Soul sighed. "I suppose," Amanda reasoned. "You know, Laura, if you want to watch my=20 movies, you can just ask me." "Okay," Laura laughed." Can I watch your movies?" "Which movie do you want to watch?" Amanda asked nicely. "Well, I suppose," Laura said in a sarcastically goofy voice," since we=20 were watching it when you gave us that wonderful greeting, uh=85.The Holy=20 Grail." Amanda gave her a pretend smack on the head, but didn't actually hit her= .=20 "Ya, but we have to rewind it so I can watch the WHOLE thing with you guys.= " Amanda and Laura started off towards the projector. Meanwhile, both Angela's and Soul's mouth gaped open. "I can't believe=20 that just happened." Angela commented. "At least they're going to get along for the War." Soul smiled. "If they're not watching Monty Python all the way through it," Angela an= d=20 Soul both laughed as they sat down and watched the credits of Monty=20 Python's "The Holy Grail". Finish NOTE: To the people who have not watched Monty Python before: You know the credits that come at the end of a movie? Well, in Mont= y=20 Python's The Holy Grail (the only one I've seen) the credits that come at th= e=20 end start the movie, it's the beganning of the movie, seriously. It's cool!= !! From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GcAh-0006Ex-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 01:52:32 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4021; Tue, 17 Aug 99 01:50:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6247; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 01:50:24 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:52:13 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR:Nothers: Grand Entrance part 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4831d962cd795920ce319f8d97eec62b Title: Grand Entrance part 01/01 Place: Chatea des Autres Time: Monday Night, 8 pm-ish, before "Magical Misadventures" et al. Disclaimers: All real people used by permission. Nat was given to us for the occasion by the Natpack, as was Screed c/o Libby & the Ratpackers. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The Grand Opening of the Chateau des Autres was just about to start. People were beginning to arrive in little clusters and Fleurette was nervous. Part of it was the fish she'd had for lunch; the rest of it was the fact that she kept hearinf the squeaks and twitters of ratsies ringing in her ears. She was convinced the little menaces were laughing at her. "Cheer up!" Nightdancer, the other Nothers co-founder, told her as she brezed by in her black pants suit and royal blue blouse. "We're doing fine." They were doing fine, Fleurette had to admit. NightDancer was busy giving tours of the grounds to all the guests as they arrived. Elladara and Jeanne (Fleurette's RL Mom) were taking names at the door for the door prize. And Natalie'd arrived an hour earlier, followed by a small contingent from the Natpack. Of course, Fleurette couldn't find Natalie now that she wanted to speak to her. Instead, she ran into a small group of Ratpackers, led by Libby and Screed. After talking with them and diverting a tray of cheese pastries their way, she slipped off to inspectt he Chateau one last time. As she left, she noticed a group of UFers arriving, some of them leading what looked ot be a chihuaha wearing a tuxedo. She shook her head in awe at the extent of the crowd. >>>>>>>>>>>>> Meanwhile, Kat and Liz were showing Nat around the Chateau. So far they'd done the gardens and now they were at the stables. For some reason Nat couldn't understand, Liz and Kat were more interested in the stable boy that the horses, but they were. After ten minutes of drooling, Nat dragged the two out of the stables and into the Chateau. From there, they showed off the library, the private rooms and the indoor swimming pool. "What's down there?" Nat asked, pointing to one hallway. "That's the kitchen," Liz answered. "You don't want to go down there," Kat added. "Why not? It's my Chateau, isn't it?" Before either cybertwin could stop her, Nat headed for the kitchen. "You! What arrrrre you doing in mon kitchen!" A voice called out as soon as Nat entered it. "Natalie! My Natalie!" Nat turned to see a somewhat shortish man in chef's garb and brandishing a knife and a sharpener. "Nice to me you, um...." "I Andre," he said, waving the knife. "Ze chef for ze chateau. And you arrre ma Natalie!" "D-do I know you?" Nat asked, confused. "I formerrrrr chef at Azurrrrre," he explained. "I see ma Natalie and nasty vampirrrrres and I fall in love. Then I learrrn of Natalie's castle and I come. For ma Natalie." "Well, that's ... very nice," Nat stammered. "You know, I really ought to be getting back to the party now." As quick as she could without running, Nat turned and headed back the way she had come. >>>>>>>>>>>>>> The Illumination show was just beginning when Fleurette spied Natalie standing next to one of the UFers. They were deep in conversation. She waited until they were finsihed to hail Natalie. Nat waived back and motioned that she should ocme on over. "Hi, Fleurette!" Natalie beamed. "Have you met, Julia?" "No, I don't believe I have," Fleurette replied, introducing herself to the other woman. They chatted about the party for awhile and and admired the fireworks. Then Natalie excused herself to go find her *other* faction and its leader. "Nat's a real nice lady," Julia commented to Fleurette. "She didn't even criticize me when I told her about the UF." "No, she wouldn't," Fleurette said, smilingly. "I'm glad she came. She needed to come play." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> When the Illumination show ended, Fleurette and Natalie stood before the crowd gathered in the court yard. Fleurette spoke. "First of all, thank you all for coming. It's great to see so many familiar faces here tonight. secondly, I hope you all remember to stay for the magic act, following the drawing for the door prize." She smiled warmly at the crowd before handing the microphone over to Natalie. "Hi, everyone!" Nat said brightly. "Wasn't it a wonderful show?" the crowd cheered. "I hope you all got the chance to take the tour. It's a wonderful place; I'm already planning my first vacation here." Another round of cheers, some of them half-hearted from those who didn't quite understand what Nothers was all about. Natalie continued. "The door prize, I'm told, is an all-expenses paid weekend here at le Chateau. It's really quite the opportunity! There's an indoor swimming pool, a spa, an extensive library and all these luxurious grounds-- not to mention a stable filled with horses you can ride and a gourmet cook." As she spoke, Natalie silently added, "a cook who's nuts." After a long pause for effect, natalie reached her hand into a large wooden bowl and pulled out a name. "And the winner is.... Morgaine! Is Morgaine here?" >>>>>>>>>>>> The End Fleurette B. Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GcBO-0004ed-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 01:53:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7918; Tue, 17 Aug 99 01:51:06 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6283; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 01:51:06 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:52:55 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR: Nothers: Magical Misadventures Part 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 9001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2182aa3c5c84c0736f2a57535e9652ac Title: Magical Misadventures Part 01/01 Place: Chateau des Autres Time: Monday, 9:30 PM, After "Grand Entrance" & concurrent to the Vaqs "Take me out to the Ball Game." Disclaimers: all real people used by permission. "Harry" belongs to Nothers. >>>>>>>>>>>> The majority of the Nothers guests--those who hadn't gotten lost within the castle's many nooks and crannies--gathered in the ballroom of le Chateau des Autres arounf 9:30. At one end of the room, a large stage had been erected. The rest of the room was filled with folding metal chairs, each eqipped with its own red cushion for added comfort. The guests found seats and turned eager faces to the stage before them. Behind the curtain, a man in a top hat and rented tuxedo with tails paced backand forth. As he paced, he sneezed uncontrollably. A young and slightly pregnant woman watched him in open cncern. "Harry?" she asked. "Are you certain you can do this?" "Yes, FB. I gave you my word and I'm not going to go back on it now. I just--Aaaaah-chooo!--have to calm down a little." he waved his hand at the curtain blocking him from his intended audience. "There *aren't* too many people out there?" he asked, eyes pleading her to say no. Fleurette looked, peering through a slit in the curtain. The room was packed. "About twelve people," she lied. It was only *after* the curtain opened and the nervous magician stepped onto the stage that he began to suspect that his usually honest employer had lied to him. Swallowing the new round of tell-tale sneezes that threatened, Harry smiled and bowed graciously tot he corwded room which applauded his sudden arrival. "Thank you," he stammered at first. As they continued to applaud, however, heslowly began to gain confidence. This wouldn't be so bad after all, he rationalized. Smiling a happier, less forced smile, the once nervous magician began to deliver what most of the Nothers recognized as his finest performance of regualar parlor tricks. He produced rabbits from his hat and doves from his sleeves. The people applauded politely and with seeming earnestness. Then it was time for intermission. Fleurette again met him back stage. "How're you doing?" she asked. "You haven't been watching?" Harry looked hurt. "I'm sorry, harry. It's these rats. I found some more of them by the swimming pool," she told him. "I'm sorry." "Don't be," she replied. "If the second act of your show goes over without a hitch, you get make *them* disappear, too," Fleurette informed him. "Hoo-boy! That's all I need, FB. Pressure," Harry quipped, taking a sip of water. Then he turned to his boss one last time. "Are the costumes ready for the volunteers?" he asked. "Yeppers!" Fleurette replied. "Now, go make me proud!" Harry nodded, grinning his biggest boyish grin and waved his hand. He vanished before her very eyes, leaving Fleurette to wonder if a little confidence wasn't all Harry needed to be good athis magic. >>>>>>>>>>>> The audience ooo-ed and aaahed when Harry appeared before their eyes in a puff of blue smoke. "I'm back," he said, flashing a lop-sided grin. They applauded... again. The applause died down as he raised his hands for silence. "We have something special planned for this next half of the show, folks. If you would oblige me, I'd like it very much if you all felt the bottom of your chairs." They all looked at him funny. "This isn't a hoax to get us to clean the gum off the bottom," someone in the front row hollared out. "No," Harry replied smoothly. "But if you've got gum under your seat, please remove it anyway!" Laughter ensued. Harry waited until everyone had looked under their seats. Some people, he knew, had found something very special taped to the bottom of their chairs. "Now," he said, "Will the people who found the white envelopes under their chairs please follow the red carpet up here to the stage?" Four people rose hesitantly from their seats and ambled up the red carpet and onto the stage. Harry led them behind the still-drawn curtain where Fleurette was waiting with costumes. She recognised all of the voluntters except one, mainly because the three women were all from Nunkies Anonymous. "Patt! Libby! Alicia! Hi!" she beamed, handing them bright, shiney costumes. "Put these on!" She paused, however, before the man standing before her, puzzling over where she'd seen his face before. "i'm sorry, sir," she finally asked. "but I don't think I know your name." "Don," he replied. And that's when it hit her. Here was Don-- the List Gardener of Forever Knight. "Wow! Hi!" she said, shaking his hand. Then she handed him a tuxedo similar to Harry's only sporting a shiney, sequinned cumberbund which matched the costumes the three women were now wearing. >>>>>>>>>>>> The curtain finaly opened and the audience gasped to see two Nunkies Addicts, a Ratpacker and the List Gardener dressed up in fancy, sequinned costumes. Harry then explained to the wondering crowd that his fur volunteers had been randomly selected to help him in varoius acts. "For our first act," he said, "I will cause the lovely Libby to float in mid air." At the sound of her name, Libby squeaked in horror and looked up form the tasle she'd been playing with. The costume was sligtly on the skimpy side, and while the sequins, tassles ans gold trimming made the Ratpacker in her jump for joy, the thought of people staring at her while she wore such an outfit made her insides churn. But dutifully, she climbed up onto the table as Harry indicated and lay down. Then, Harry waved his hand in the air over her body and said words in a tongue Libby did not understand. The air tingled around her and the crowd let out a great "Aaaahhhh!" They "aaahh-ed" again when Libby's body began to spin around as if on a turn table. Only, there was nothing beneath her body save air. >>>>>>>>>>>>>> When Libby left the stage, the audience found themselves watching as Harry sawed Don in half. Next he chose Alicia for the the oh-so-routine vanishing closet trick. Everyone's seen that one-- you put the girl in the closet and she disappears out a trick door. Then the magician makes her come back. Harry escorted Alicia to the closet and closet the door. He then turned it clock-wise three times while saying a special chant. When he opned the door, Alicia was gone. The audience applauded. Harry held up his hand again. "While the lovely Alicia is off in Never-never Land, I figure we can finish out the show," he said. "But don't worry. We'll get her back before we're through." He then led Patt to the center of the stage and annouced. "I'm going to try something I've never attempted before. I am going to turn this woman into an ordinary sheet or writing paper." With that, he threw his hands into the air and spoke yet anoth incantation. No one could believe their eyes when Patt transformed into a blank sheet of paper and fluttered to the ground. And they *certainly* couldnot belive it when Harry picked up the paper and began ripping it into tiny shreds. "Patt!" cried the Nunkies Anonymous contingent from the front row. Harry then threw the shards of paper into the air. They fell in a cloud of blue and grren mist,and as they did, Patt materialized, slowly becoming herself pnce again. The audience rose to their feet, cheering and clapping. Some even got up to leave. "What about Alicia?" someone calle dut, bringing half the audience back to their seats. Harry grinned and walked slowly back to the cabinet. reiterating the phrases which had caused Alicia to vanish, he threw open the door and let the figure insdie tha closet step forward. "Tracy Sue!" he gasped, realising that this wasn't his misisng assistant. Tracy Sue, the Vaq Mommy and sometimes Nothers, was wearing leather jacket, a ball cap and holing a hot dog in her hand. "It's abou time," she said, "that cabinet was getting stuffy." "Wait a minute!" harry protested as Tracy Sue ambled towards the steps leading off the stage. "If you're here, then wehre's Alicia?" "Who?" was Tracy Sue's response. >>>>>>>>>>>> Alicia felt ridiculous. Shortly after stepping into the magic closet, she'd been zapped to the top of the CN tower and was now being stared at by everyone in sight. What was worse, she'd left her cash with her clothes, and had to stand there in her sequined costume, feeling foolish and waiting for a cab. >>>>>>>>>>>. The End, folks. Fleurette B. Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GcSH-00013m-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:10:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4078; Tue, 17 Aug 99 02:03:25 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7050; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:03:25 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:58:33 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: War: NA: Tiff's Bail Hearing (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2dc9e8a46864a554133316bc2cdb1821 NA: Tiff's Bail Hearing (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: After 7:30 am Sunday Morning Place: County Lockup, District Court Building Permissions by: Third Cousin Patt, DP Angel, Cousin Mary, and granted permission to use Tracy from the latter two chicks as well. Follows: "Indiana Janes... " and "Boybands R Us" ************************ The evil cousin pondered in the jail cell. Over on the other side of the cell sat the toenotes. Only three of 'em, though. The other two were lucky enough to escape being thrown into jail at such an early time in the morning. Then Tiff began to wonder what was going to happen to the other two. Suddenly Tiff was ripped out of her deep thought. "Yo! Are you still with me?" An officer asked opening the cell. "What?" Tiff asked, not liking to be pulled out of deep thought. "You're getting your phone call... lets go!" .> ---------- Tiff stood at the pay phone and dial. *Ring* She hoped someone would be there. I was still early. *Ring* *Ri--* "Thank you for calling the Jeweled Peach, this is Patt, how can I service you?" "Hello?" Patt's voice said, waiting for a reply. She wasn't in the mood for such games right now. "Patt? This is Tiff..." "Tiff? Where are you? Two of your toenotes were going on about them not having a leader..." "That's the thing. The DP's arrested me this morning for stealing back the tapestry." The mature addict almost dropped the phone at this announcement. "You mean you got the tapestry back?!? Why didn't you tell anyone? Where is it?" "It was going to be a surprise for the Shower. So I didn't tell anyone. Then Tracy and the DP's snuck into the Shrine and arrested me, and beat up my boyband! ... and they took the tapestry back. I think I should have found a better place than my bookbag to hide it." "Anyway... my bail hearing is at 11:00am at the district court building. Could you be there for me please?" Third Cousin Patt let out a long sigh as she agreed and then hung up the phone. "This is going to be a *long* war." ---------- 11:00 am District Court Building Everyone awaited the arrival of the judge. The mature addict sat next to Tiff and the boys, on the defendants' side. Tracy and DP Angel, Shana, sat on the prosecutors' side. "All rise. District Court for the City of Toronto is now in session. The honorable Judge Hooper, presiding." The bailiff stated. "Be seated." The judge stated. They all sat. "Case number 51280. Ontario vs. Petherbridge, Granite, Whiteside, and Whiteside," the Clerk announced. "Charge?" Judge Hooper asked. "Miss Petherbridge is charged with grand larceny of a tapestry. Granite and the Whitesides are charged with aiding and abetting grand larceny." "How do the defendants plead?" "Not guilty," the mature addict stated. "Okay, bail is set at $2000 for Petherbridge, and a thousand each for the other three----Next case!" Seemed as though they were being shoved out of the court room. As Tiff was being hand-cuffed to be taken back to the jail. "That's it?" She asked. "I guess so," Patt. She turned to see the bailiffs carting Tiff and the toenotes away. Patt was going to have to make some phone calls. ************************* Continued in "the Price of Virtue" by the NA Scribe Bons. *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GcZi-0003wH-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:18:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6265; Tue, 17 Aug 99 02:14:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7957; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:14:37 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:20:36 -1000 Reply-To: kevinm@PIXI.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kevin Matsumoto Subject: WAR: N&NPackers: Lunchtime To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 32c508d4758db7d1c83c09463c05a029 N&Npackers: Lunchtime Where: N&Npack HQ WHO:Cheryl Barnes, Amanda B. Other N&NPackers (If they Volunteer) When: Tuesday August 17th. Around 12:00 PM Everyone used with their permission. The first thing Cheryl Barnes noticed as she entered the kitchen was the thick cloud of smoke that floated near the ceiling. "What happened?" "*Einstein* here forgot to turn on the vents before she started cooking." Marci pointed her thumb at the other N&Npacker on kitchen duty. "HEY! It was an honest mistake." The other N&Npacker shrugged, "We don't need vents at home." Cheryl looked over at the table where the results of the two cooks' labor were stacked. Two piles burgers, one marked 'vegetarian', the other marked 'real meat' were stacked on a pair of large serving plates. "Is it lunch already?" Cheryl checked her watch. It was about another 15 minutes till noon. "Wow I must have lost track of the time." "Yep," Marci replied, "I knew that Laila was a Vegan, and I think some of the others are as well. So we decided not to take any chances." Cheryl saw Marci pulling out a large bowl of potato salad from the fridge. She was about to offer to help when suddenly a song blared from the auditorium. "WE'RE GOING TO RIDE FOREVER! YOU CAN'T KEEP HORSEMEN IN A CAGE!" The song immediately caught Cheryl's attention. The volume of the song almost caused Marci to drop the bowl. "PG!" Cheryl quickly headed for the door. "Bye." She called almost as an afterthought. "WHOA!" Laura flattened herself against the wall as the six foot tall N&Npacker tore past her in a near run. What was that about?" "PG fix." Marci explained. "PG?" "Paul Gross," Marci elaborated, "Constable Benton Fraser in Due South." "AH..." Laura nodded as she decided to follow Cheryl to the auditorium. Cheryl hurried down the hallway to the auditorium. From what she (well technically everyone in the HQ) could hear someone was playing a Due South tape. And she didn't want to miss any of it. "Hey Cheryl!" Amanda nodded a greeting as they almost bumped in the hallway, "You heard the singing too huh?" "Yep," Cheryl replied grinning. "Someone has good taste." They were joined by several other N&Npackers. Although much to Cheryl's dismay, several of them had their hands over their ears. When the song died in mid-verse most of the others went back to whatever they were doing. Cheryl and Amanda walked into the auditorium just in time to see Benton Fraser leap out of the window of a fast moving train. A split second later the screen went blue as the tape was stopped. "HEY!" Cheryl shouted, "TURN THAT BACK ON!" "WHAT!?" The shouted response from up in the rafters startled all of the N&Npackers present. Cheryl and the others looked up to the walkway where the spotlights were set. She could see someone moving along the walkway to the ladder. As the person started down she recognized him. "Would you mind putting the tape back on, Kevin?" She asked as politely as possible. "WHAT!?" Kevin's shouted reply was nearly as loud as the first one. "What's a matter with you?" Amanda asked. "HUH?" Kevin looked at his watch. "IT'S NOT A QUARTER PAST TWO. IT ISN'T EVEN TWELVE YET." Cheryl thought back to how loud the song had been in the kitchen and suddenly realized what Kevin's problem was. Pulling out a pen and paper she wrote, "Sit down and let me know when you can hear again." Showing it to Kevin, she waited until he nodded. Then she turned back to Amanda and the others. "I think Kevin was right next to the speakers when the song started." Amanda winced, "Ouch." "No kidding," .Laura nodded, "I wonder what happened?" "He should be able to tell us when his hearing comes back." Cheryl replied, "I can wait if it means I don't have to shout my questions at him." After about five minutes of putting his hands over his ears. Kevin sighed, "That's better." "Can you hear me now?" Cheryl asked. "Yeah," Kevin replied, "My ears are still ringing a little but at least I can hear my own voice." "What happened?" Amanda asked. "I was installing the projector and the speakers up on the catwalk..." "Don't you think that's going to make it hard to change tapes?" Amanda asked. "The *projector* is up there. Not the player." Kevin replied just a little testily. "Sorry." Amanda shrugged. "Anyway, I put a new DVD player and the VCR in the back of the auditorium. And I ran the wires up to Projector and the Speakers. Now we don't have to haul the thing out everytime we want to watch a movie." "That doesn't explain why you nearly deafened yourself." Cheryl said patiently. "Do you know we have rats in the Theater?" Kevin asked. "What!?" All of the N&Npackers looked around nervously. "Big ones," Kevin finished, "I was bolting everything down when one of them decided to try to climb up my pants leg. I kinda freaked and hit the play and volume control of the remote at the same time." "OK, that explains it." Cheryl smiled, then looked around. "Um... What happened to the rat?" "Beats me." Kevin shrugged. "As soon as Paul Gross started singing the rat took off running." "Obviously the rat had no taste what so ever." Amanda took the remote from Kevin's hands and pressed 'Play'. Cheryl grinned and all of the other N&Npackers present sat down to watch the last half of the Due South episode 'All the Queen's Horses'. Kevin started smiling as they settled in for what was obviously going to be a long marathon movie day. "I'm going to get lunch." He said to Cheryl as prepared to leave. "The tapes are in the security room in my duffel bag. Try not to lose them, OK?" "Right," Cheryl nodded, thinking quickly she asked, "You wouldn't happen to have Aspen Extreme in there would you?" "Yep," Kevin nodded, "Aspen Extreme, three Due South Tapes, A couple of Farscape episodes and Eddie and the Cruisers. I figured we'd be to busy to watch much else." "No Forever Knight?" Amanda looked scandalized. "Hey, we already have a complete library of those around here somewhere. These are my personal tapes. And I want them back afterwards." "Got it!" Amanda nodded, realizing something was missing from the experience she asked. "Kevin would you mind bringing back some popcorn from the machine?" Kevin's smile turned to laughter as he headed for the kitchen. "Sure, I'll be right back." "Cool," Amanda thought as she settled deeper into the theater seat. A full day of watching Paul Gross on the big screen with her compadres. Now that was living. End. From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gccd-00043f-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:21:23 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8053; Tue, 17 Aug 99 02:19:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8203; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:19:14 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:51:05 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: NA: Alley Oops! (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 795df8d2cc225f02280c8add407cf699 Title: Alley Oops Time: 2 AM Tuesday, the 17th (After "Flying Bricks") Place: The streets of Toronto By Jennifer Lee and Cousin Tser All used with permission. * * * Tser led Smokey the old Appaloosa out of the Cousinly Stables. It was a great relief to be out in the cold night air, a relief to be away from the chaos of War for a moment. She walked down the street a way, Smokey following obediently, but very disappointed that this was a world of pavement and not of lush green grass. As Cousin Tser was apt to do, her mind began to wander. Mostly about the scientific implications of the events that had transpired... of course, not everything could be explained scientifically, or even psuedo-scientifically, and so Tser's unreality section of her brain was taking over. But then again.... *Oooo,* the Cousinly Temporal Theorist part of Tser said. *What if this cube thing is really an ancient device that opens portals in space-time? Maybe all that stormy stuff is really the parting of the fabric, pulling the vampiric elements out and exchanging them for mortal? What if in some other reality a whole bunch of human alters of our beloved undead just turned vampiric?* Tser's eyes glittered as she happily dissected miracles. Smokey nickered and nudged Tser, hoping she happened to be carrying some grain, or maybe a nice carrot. "Whu? Oh, Smoke." Tser laughed, jostled out of her dazed state. "Sorry bud, didn't bring anything for this particular outting. You'll have to starve." With a start, Cousin Tser looked around. "Oh no," she said. "Not again." She was in an alley, and a particularly dark one at that. Whenever she got written into a dark alley, something *BAD* happened. * * * * Jennifer/Caligula was tired of the apparent insolence of her subjects. She was a god and the ruler of the Roman Empire, the supreme power in the universe! And now, the inhabitants of her palace were leaving, and being replaced by others. This did not sit well, not at all. So, she relocated to the barn with her trusted advisor, Icitatus, her manservant, Luke, following with her amenities and two cats, one of which clung desperately to his arm in fear of the outdoors. The ex-vampire did his best to ignore the piercing claws of the orange, tan, black, gray, and white mass of fur. Upon reaching the Sacred Stables, Jennifer/Caligula saddled and bridled Incitatus, and rode him out onto the paved streets. It wasn't long before they came upon a woman standing looking slightly irritated, trying to make her way out of a dark alley. Jennifer/Caligula turned Incitatus sideways, effectively blocking her path, and looked down at her, thinking that it would be of great benefit to have another servant. Her mind swirled with the prospect. Perhaps two. Tser looked up at her and smiled. "Hi, Jennifer," she said. "Whew, I was beginning to think I was going to get mugged or something, this being a dark alley and myself being prone to getting into trouble in dark alleys." Then the 1/3rd of Cerberus looked around. "Uh, are the members of Les Chevaliers de la Nuit were getting together now? I didn't think we--" "Do not speak to me in such a way, woman!" Jennifer/Caligula said imperiously. "I am your Emperor, and as such, you will show me proper respect!" Oh dear. Signs of alley trouble. "E-emperor?" Tser asked, her stomach lurching. "You have been chosen to serve me, god and Emperor, Gaius 'Caligula' Caesar. On your feet, ancilla!" "MAID-SERVANT?" Tser said angrily at this great deal of silliness. She wondered where Jennifer had picked up the Latin. "I don't think you're in your right--" She shut up when she saw the delusional woman looking down at her from aboard her tall thoroughbred and swallowed. "Um, yes, Emporer sir ma'am?" Jennifer/Caligula dismounted and tied a rope tightly around Tser's wrists, holding elegantly onto the other end. "And bring that steed with you. I will need horses for my stables," she said as she swung herself back onto her horse's back, giving a tug on the rope that nearly pulled Tser over. "Ow," Tser said. "Smokey, run, get help!!" Smokey looked at her and nudged her pocket. Jennifer/Caligula led them off into the dark pre-dawn. ### ... continued in "A General EnCanter" pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gcle-0005eq-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:30:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8070; Tue, 17 Aug 99 02:28:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8525; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:28:34 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:00:25 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: NA: A General EnCanter (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e3377885c924928e99f9541454c4e4e9 Title: A General EnCanter Time: After "Alley Oops" (predawn Tues.) Place: A street in Toronto By Jennifer Lee and Cousin Tser Uncle and else used with permission. * * * * * * Jennifer/Caligula led her prize off into the night, quite proud of herself. Her captive, Cousin Tserisa of the Cousinly Leadership, was not so pleased. She was desperately trying to gnaw through the rope that bound her, letting out grumpy noises every so often. Jennifer/Caligula was so caught up in her victory that she didn't notice the imposing figure dressed impeccably in black from head to toe. "General!" she heard her new maid-servant cry out. "Silence!" Jennifer/Caligula ordered, tugging on the rope. Tserisa was jerked back and forth, and Smokey tossed his head at the commotion. "General, sir, do you think you could possibly do something about this situation?" the 1/3rd of Cerberus asked in as dignified and respectful a tone as she could muster. The ropes were beginning to chafe. Jennifer/Caligula pulled her horse up and turned him neatly on his haunches to face her servant and the man she was addressing, twisting Tser's hands and eliciting an "ow" in the process. "You," she demanded the black clad man. "What are you staring at? Desino!!" LaCroix raised an eyebrow. An addict ordering him around in Latin? Intriguing... irritating, but intriguing. "I was merely curious as to why you have this woman on a leash," he said smoothly. Jennifer/Caligula straightened further (if that was possible without pulling her vertebrae apart). "This woman is to be my servant. And you had best go on about your business if you do not wish to share her fate." "Release her," LaCroix said lowly. "She serves *me*." "And you, mortal," Jennifer/Caligula said mightly, "serve me, Gaius Caligula Ceasar, god and Emporer! And your generous offering of one of your servants will be remembered," she said in a cold tone that seemed to mean that the conversation had ended. "What?" the General hissed, and if he had still been vampire, his eyes would have been glowing. "You dare speak to me like this? Call yourself a god?" With that, Jennifer/Caligula turned Coup/Inctatus around and began to canter, dragging Cousin Tser behind her, and amazingly Tser stayed on her feet... for the most part. Smokey plodded along after them, chewing contentedly on some grass he'd found growing between cracks in the pavement. He offered LaCroix a disinterested glance as he passed, sensing that the ex-immortal General had no treats on his person. The odd group moved out of sight around a corner, Tser still pleading with her leader to save her from further humiliation. LaCroix seemed to growl low in his throat with displeasure that one of his Cousinly Leaders had allowed herself to be kidnapped and even more displeased at the Addict's attitude. He also twisted his mouth in a snarl that he had lost his vampiric swiftness to deal with this matter. He turned and walked angrily back to CERK to inform Cousin Tok that her co-leader had been abducted. And he was certainly in a bad mood. ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GcoB-0006pm-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:33:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6308; Tue, 17 Aug 99 02:30:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8721; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:30:51 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 02:32:37 EDT Reply-To: Ipecac69@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stan Williams Subject: War: GSS: Surveillance or Stalking? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: efd45e089662e383dcb521ccbe2abf02 Day: August 17, 1999 (Barely Tuesday) Time: The wee hours (when the wee folk emerge) Place: A taxi in an alley not far from Nick's Loft. By: Stan Williams, Talon Talon takes another sip from his Buckstar's mug and adjusts his night vision binoculars. Tonight had been a very interesting night, filled with intrigue, and motorcycles. He trains his focus on one of the loft's windows. Waiting... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To suspect the Knighties had been an easy decision. Perhaps too easy. Nevertheless, the General had agreed to Talon's request to change his assignment to Knightie/Loft surveillance. Well, actually, the General had merely given Talon an amused sneer/grin and walked away, but that was close enough to an agreement. Besides, the Knighties had been a little too bouncy the other night at the Raven. Something was up besides their pulses. Could it simply be that Nick was a fully-functional* human, and the Knighties were swooning due to possibilities? Talon's mind wandered. Sometimes his photographic memory leaned towards another-graphic imagination. The Knighties would love to convert Nick to humanity. Would it bother them if other vampires were affected? Hmmm.... ~~~~~~~~~~ The loft had not been this silent for a while. There were the recent explosions, after all. A grand opportunity arose when the repairman arrived, but he was without reproach. He wasn't about to be bought off. What was his name again...Stan, Sam, something? Removing/replacing him was too risky at that point in Talon's surveillance. Drat. Suffice for now to wait, and watch. Perhaps the Talamasca** were hiring. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The roar of motorcycle engines earlier this night had shocked Talon from near slumber. Silence and motorcycle engines seldom mixed. The bikers must have parked a little distance away. The ensuing group of leatherclad pedestrians left little to wonder...Vaqueros y Vaqueras, naturalmente. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When are those Knighties going to come home? Talon's mind started wandering again. Eventually settling on a particularly bouncy Knightie. Talon wondered if he was getting a little too close to his prey, er subject of surveillance. Then again, he also wondered what her name was. Put that on the to-do list. However, there was always that killer fare from the other day - the lady in the black trenchcoat and sunglasses at night. Good tipper as well, hmmm. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Talon made a mental note, "Double the caffeine next stakeout." And, "Surveillance is not stalking until/unless I focus only on the attractive women." He stretches comfortably in the spacious Ford Crown Vic taxicab, safely behind thickly shaded windows. Hoping that the Knighties reveal to him what the Vaq's were up to. If the bouncy ones ever get home! ~~~~~~~~~~ Fionn (well it sounds like fin.) Stan * This line is for the Trekkies/Trekkers. ** This line is for the Anne Rice fans. Hmm, Talamasca, what an interesting faction. From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GeAD-00000M-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 04:00:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8250; Tue, 17 Aug 99 03:58:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1329; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 03:58:02 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 00:59:42 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: War: NA: Diet Coke is Our Friend (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7a5e47d7c1a5849196e184dd39cedf14 NA: Diet Coke is Our Friend (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: Around and After 11:00pm Monday night August 16 Place: Jeweled Peach/the Shrine Permissions by: Everyone mention therein. Follows: "the Price of Virtue" ************************* Boy, was the Jeweled Peach packed tonight. It was probably because of the war, but everyone in the NA seemed to be there tonight. Tiff was glad. After having spent a day or so in county lockup, she appreciated not having to worry if you said you didn't have any cigarettes for someone to bum. Allie was sitting across from Evil Cousin Tiff, drinking a coffee. She appeared to be well over the hangover she got after Friday night. "Why do you keep checking your watch?" Allie asked nursing her mocha latte. "I'm scheduled to do something in a bit." "Talk to Nunkies, maybe? Hmm?" "No, I don't think he's pleased with the fact I delayed Shrine remodeling with halfpipe construction." "Heh heh. I thought it'd be because of the meltdown you had." "You heard about that?!?" Allie nodded taking another sip of coffee. Ivy soon walked over and sat down next to Tiff in the booth. "Hey, Tiff... so where's your trance powder?" Allie and Ivy both burst into laughter. "Shut up. It's not like it hasn't happened to you before." Ivy wanted to return with a witty comment. "Sure but--" She didn't. Both of them quieted quickly. Soon both Caren and KC approached and sat at the booth, which was getting quite crowded. Tiff looked at her watch. <11:15pm> It was almost time. "Hey, Tiff," KC asked, "where are the toenotes? I have some errands for them to run." "They're off helping the GROUT guys. Probably mixing cement or something." Suddenly, the twins Trevor and Chip walked by with several six-packs of Diet Coke . "Speak of the devil," Caren stated. Soon Travis, Chad, and Daryl walked by holding 3 cases of the fizzy drink, each. This interested the woman greatly. "Chad! Wait up," Allie called. He turned around to face her, his face just over top of the soda cases. "What are you doing with all the soda?" "I like, don't know," Chad answered. "The construction dudes, told us to like, get as much Diet Coke as possible. So we like, did," Travis continued. "Those dudes are weird," Daryl added. "Totally." Tiff took a look at her watch. <11:20pm> Not much time left. She need to gather as many addicts as she could... She found Bonnie and Glennis sitting at the other end of the Peach enjoying conversation with each other. Tiff interrupted it, and commanded they go over to where every else was standing. Dee and Monica seemed to be reading near the entrance. Tiff didn't care. She needed them. Told them to follow Bons and Glen. Finally, Jesse was on the phone with her mom. Tiff disconnected the call and told her to move. As soon as Tiff returned to the now large group of addicts standing in front of her, she was flooded with angry comments. "I was on the phone... You made me lose my place... I forgot what I was talking about." Tiff asked them to just give her ten minutes of their time, and all would be explained. She looked at her watch. <11:28pm> Two minutes till it began. She led all the addict to the entry of the Shrine, opened the door, but didn't go in. They could see poor plastered Shele from that vantage point. Soon one of the ex-vamps stopped what he was doing, and leaned against the plastered addict. The toenotes where to the left with the many cases of soda handing them out to the now growing number of male construction workers stopping everything they were doing to take a soda. "What's going on, Tiff?" Bons asked, not taking her eyes off the men. A small high pitched beep resonated from Tiff's Indiglo . <11:30pm> Tiff kept her eyes on the men as well as she stated those three most important words. "Diet Coke Break!" Suddenly remembrance of those early 1990s commercials came back to all of the woman. The ex-vampires began to take off their shirts and drink the soda. Most of the addicts watched with their eyes peeled, many on the verge of meltdown. "How did you know..." Monica asked but failed to finish do to her current condition. "Remember how LaCroix unwhammied the workers into working on the Shrine again?" "Uh-huh." "He didn't unwhammy everything!" A light "golf-clap" applause sounded from the addicts still viewing this almost celestial event. From right side of the Shrine, Patt came to see what was going on and why all work had stopped. Seeing the scantily clad men did take the mature addict aback for a moment. She also remembered those soda commercials from the early nineties. But there was work to be done, and this had gone on long enough. "What's going on here?" She asked as she walked towards them. The men all seemed to come back to their senses, and scattered to get back to work. Patt took note of all the addicts at the Shrine entrance scattering away back into the Jeweled Peach, giggling. ******************** Fin (for now) *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:42 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GfEi-00012C-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 05:08:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6632; Tue, 17 Aug 99 05:06:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3290; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 05:06:43 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 09:07:25 -0500 Reply-To: treeleaf@IO.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Margie Hammet Subject: War: Intimations of a Kidnapping (1 of 1) Sunday, Early Afternoon To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 82cd5d1061fe92830540c6e07e0a30a3 War: Intimations Of A Kidnapping (1of 1) Written by: Kyer en Ysh, with input from those mentioned herein. Time: Sunday, Aug. 15, Early Afternoon Begins before "I Bring You a Message of Peace" ____________________________________________________________________________ Lisa slowly hung up the phone, her expression pensive. Morgaine, who had just come back from feeding her Space Chickens was the first to notice. "What's wrong?" Everyone else looked up as Lisa took a seat on the couch and stared out the window. Everyone that is except Kyer and J.L. J.L. was likely still fine-tuning the computers in the basement level. It was her major duty in the Cottage and she applied herself diligently to it. That left... "Where's Kyer?" "Where else?" Anjali replied, nose returning to within inches of an interesting magazine article. "In her room as usual, listening to that Guatamalen stuff." "Incan." Morgaine corrected her, knowing that Kyer could be really touchy on things like that. "You want me to call her down?" She started to get up to go to one of the intercom systems that dotted the cottage. Lisa stopped her. "No, let me discuss this with you guys first. That was a call from a friend of a friend of an acquaintance. It seems the Nunkies Anonymous have been taking notice in Kyer's being here and not at the Loft as some had expected." Margie shrugged. "So, maybe the NA just like to keep tabs on everybody. Why should that affect us?" "It's just hearsay, mind, but my... contact.. thinks they may be planning on kidnapping her. Something about some fanfic she--" "Whaa?!" Kyer, who had just come down the stairs in order to fix a jalepeno snack in the kitchen, was staring at them, jaw wide opened. "K-k-kidnap? Me?! That's... that's against the law!" "Now, calm down, Kyer," Lisa implored, afraid the woman was going to have an attack on the spot. "It's only a rumor.." "They.. they can't kidnap me...I... I *bruise* easily! I'm an *AMERICAN CITIZEN*!" She turned on her heel and ran back up the stairs taking the steps two at a time while screaming hysterically. "AAAAAAAAAGH!! THEY'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!!" "Oh... sheesh" Morgaine exclaimed. "Kyer, wait!" She jumped out of her chair and ran after her friend, followed closely by Margie and Lisa. Anjali just shook her head and went back to her magazine. "It's like a soap." ___________________ Upstairs, Lisa, Morgaine, and Margie burst thru the open doorway of Kyer's room. The place was habitually dark from the grey stone that surrounded everywhere but the solarium window. Mr. Spitz sat forlonly on the bed, keeping vigil over her belongings. "Kyer?" Lisa called out softly. "Where is she?" "Wait a minute, " Morgaine headed towards the closet and opened it up. "Well, she's not in there." Margie sighed. "Yes she is." Morgaine replied, taking hold of a small latch near the bottom of one wall. It moved sideways to reveal a small, hidden cubbyhole that was currently filled up with one blowdart wielding Arizonan. Morgaine stared at the tiny dart that was partly embeddded in an article of clothing hanging close to her head. "Oops." Kyer smiled weakly at her in apology. Margie took the opportunity to snatch the primitive weapon away. "Gimme that thing! My God! This isn't poisoned, is it? What do you think you're doing?!" "Curare. I've got to defend myself!" Making a face of pure exasperation, Margie handed the primitive device to Lisa. Maybe they could call the local Poison Control to find out how to dispose of it. "This is ridiculous... now, come out of there and act reasonable." She noticed the Lisa and Morgaine giving her the raised eyebrow. "Well... *comparably* reasonable." "No way!" Morgaine tried next. "Kyer, you're perfectly safe here with us." "Says you!" Kyer tried to shove the panel closed again. Morgaine held it open. "I mean, JL's got the place rigged with more security than the U.S.S. Enterprise." Kyer's eyes squinted. "Would that be the same starship that habitually loses red-shirted people?" Her friend's eyes kinda went vacant as she remembered. "Oh... yeah. Especially in that episo-" She felt an elbow in her ribs. Margie shaking her head. "Look, Kyer, " Lisa sighed. "You can't very well stay in the closet for the duration of the War." "I can dang well try! I'm *allergic* to muggings and torture!" With that, she shoved the panel closed with all her might, leaving the others standing in the closet wondering what to do. At last they left-- Lisa to deal with the poisoned darts. Checking to make sure that the coast was clear, Kyer cautiously rolled out of the cubby hole and spent the next 15 minutes unkinking her muscles. Lisa had been right-- even with the bathroom breaks, she'd never manage to spend more than a day in such a tight place. And the pins and needle sensations every time she got out were torture in themselves. No.... there was only one thing she could do to save herself... Plopping her backpack down next to the puppet, she began to throw selected items into it. "We gotta get out of here, Mr. Spitz. Head back to Arizona where we belong. Problem is, the Inka won't be returning for us until the two weeks are up-- and he doesn't have a phone! So I've been thinking... what better way to get a message to him than to send it via the Global Emergency Radio signal? I mean, all the vampires listen to it, don't they? How else do they find a source for easy victims? Maybe we can sneak in and send a quickie broadcast. Whaddya think?" Mr. Spitz said nothing. "I knew you'd agree!" Kyer grinned, strapping the toy to the pack. "You're not afraid of nothin' are you Mr. Spitz. What would I do without you?" A half an hour and a torn-sheets ladder later, she was out the window and heading for the main city. Once she was surrounded again by towering saguaros, abundant heat, and near constant sunny days, she could send the CotK an e-mail with her excu--- reasons for skipping out. ___________________________________ End of post: Intimations Of A Kidnapping (1of 1) From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GhKu-0004rM-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 07:23:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8843; Tue, 17 Aug 99 07:21:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8695; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 07:21:17 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 07:23:02 EDT Reply-To: Libratsie@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: RP: THE NOT-THE-RATSIE THINGEE (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 11be83fc6a786c41a5f0fe5ae9228780 THE NOT-THE-RATSIE THINGEE (01/01) By Libby Singleton (through Tser's request) Disclaimer: Everyone used with someone's permission PRE DAWN Tuesday, AUGUST 17, 1999 "Whatcha doing up?" Marissa asked Screed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Couldna seem ta march h'inta dreamland," Screed said, scratching Barnabas on the stomach. The blind mostly-Bassett had rolled onto his back. "Wuz Barnabas keepin' ya wakey-wakey with hims barkin'?," Libs asked. "The vet h'once tole me 'e duz h'it cuz 'e thinks h'all the world h'as grown dark." "Loik mine 'as?" Screed muttered. "Grown dark? Doncha mean 'grown light', eh?" Johnsie asked. All the Ratpackers started laughing. "Giggle h'away, ya ... ya ... doozers," Screed snapped. "Ol' Screed never h'asked wot ta be mor-tality h'agin. Not me. Wouldna wanna be mis-taken fer tha' De-fec-a-tive Knighty-Knight. Me, Oi jest mind me own manners, slurp h'on the ratsies, maybe nibble on h'a fiesty wench now an' agin. Wot h'if this is perm-a-nant loik, eh? Wot then? H'ain't loik Oi'm 'xactly cut h'out fer modern mo-tel loif! H'ain't much call fer sailors whose ex-per-ation dates back 'bout 540 years. H'an lewk h'at these tunnels. Squealers h'everywhere. H'an they're laughin' h'at me too." "No they h'ain't," Michele said quickly. Marissa nodded vigorously in agreement. All the ever multiplying lil' ratsies stood up in unison, pointed at Screed and started squealing in lil' ratsie giggles. This was quite the sight considering there were hundreds, if not thousands, more rats than had ever occupied the Ratpack tunnels before. "Surprised we h'ain't h'all caught the death from them nasty beasts," Screed said. Barnabas rolled over to a sitting position. Slobber dripped from his Bassett lips down to Screed's pant leg. Screed scooted away from the dawg, wiping at the wet spot with his hands. "Mortal h'our ca-rouche, too much drool, dogs." * * * * * Kenny the rat woke up from his nap totally refreshed and ready for more romance. During his sleep, the rat population seemed to have multiplied a thousand fold. His kind scurried everywhere within the tunnels, sewers, walls, attics, basements, and cabinets for Toronto. Without a carouche to decrease the surplus population, rats were throwing a party and only rats were invited. * * * * * "Bein' mortal-loik h'ain't really so bad," Michele pointed out as Screed and the Ratpack scurried through the tunnel with rats all around them. "Yeah," Marissa seconded. "H'all sorts of neat things h'us mortals kin do. Loik h'eat choc-o-late." "H'and cheese dip!" Libs cried. "H'and pickin' 'our noses!" Johnsie declared, his voice muffled by his finger up his nose. Screed, the Ratpackers, and every wee lil' ratsie in sight stopped in their tracks to stare at Johnsie. He chuckled, then wiped his hand across his pants. "Uhr, well, wot da ya ex-pect-or-ate from the Leader o' the Ratpack. Speakin' o' which, Screed-me-droogy, h'iffen ya h'ain't a ca- rouche no more, than ya must be a Ratpacker soup-preme!" "Oh boy, oh joy o' me de-sires!" Screed said sarcastically as he continued down the tunnel. "Ya and yar types put the dish-gust h'in dish- gustin'." "H'and ya don't?" Libs snapped. "Divin' fer dumpster fer din din h'ain't near h'as dis-gustin' h'as... h'as..." Screed paused and squinted into the darkness. "H'as wot, h'already?" Johnsie said, grabbing Screed by the arm and spinning him around. Of course this was not meant to be a bullying or angry gesture on Johnsie's part at all. Instead, it was an excuse to slide his hand unnoticed into Screed's jacket's pocket to retrieve a slightly melted chocolate bar. "Tha', there h'in the corner," Screed pointed. Barnabas sniffed the air, then rolled over on his back and whined to have his belly scratched. Libs squatted down and crept up on the large green ... thing. "Now tha's a funny kinda squealer, tha' is." It turned its head and looked directly at her. Libs poked it, and it practically leapt out into the tunnel. "ARGH! Tha's Moses! Tser's ... big green NOT-A-RATSIE thingee! Oi've seen h'it h'at the Nunkie Shrine a'fore!" Libs straightened up, watching Moses scurry away amidst the ratsies. "Tha' duzna belong 'ere! NOT-A-RATSIE Thingees h'in a Ratpacker Tunnel??!!! H'out-the- rageous. Screedypoo, give me yar cell phone a sec. Ol' Libs h'iz calling Tser h'and given 'er a wot fer!" --end LibRatsie@aol.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GiGY-0006p7-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 08:22:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5128; Tue, 17 Aug 99 08:20:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2008; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 08:20:52 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 08:22:18 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: WAR: ENFORCERS: Fraude 1/3 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ceb01e7732c3fe1014bb8ec3950f5659 Title: "Fraude" Time: August 17, 1999. 5am Place: Enforcer HQ Written By: Captain Raven and Enid Rodriguez Lt. Steve, Lt. Kim, Lt. Jen, and Lt. Kat are used with permission. Javier Vachon used with permission. So far we have be very quiet, that's about to change... --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Enforcement Headquarters, 5 in the morning It had been a long night of plotting and planning, weighing the pros and cons, playing truth or dare, and ordering a ton of take-out, but the Enforcers decided who their first primary target would be...Javier Vachon. ".. But, who's gonna do it?" Steve asked in a yawn, his eyes blood shot from a sleepless night. " "We vote on it." Raven said, nibbling on something that use to be a salad. "I nominate Enid." Steve hissed, grinning at her with an evil smirk. Enid could feel her chest tighten. "Oh no, not the wig...." Kat protested, but suddenly stopped. She realized the whole room was grinning madly at Enid.. "Well, Enid is the one who bought the wretched thing." Jen chuckled, followed by the room whoopin' it up with her. "What about Kim?" Enid asked, hoping the would all attack her. "What about me?! I already have a task, THANKYOUVERYMUCH! Besides your the one who has been so eager to jump a vamp." She scoffed. Steve's grin widened. "I don't think Vachon is the vamp our dear Enid wanted to...jump." He quipped. The room was now exploding with laughter. The room's laughter died down when The Man in Black cleared his throat. Even as a mortal, the head Enforcer could still scare the crap out of them. There was a pause. Then to everyone's surprise Enid stood up. "Okay...I'll do it." Kat slapped her hand on the table, beaming. "Good for you Enid!" Enid gave Kadira a half-smile. "Call me Tracy." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GjBR-000492-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 09:21:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7619; Tue, 17 Aug 99 09:19:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5884; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 09:19:38 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 08:21:28 CDT Reply-To: Cousin Erik Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Erik Subject: WAR: NA: What Have I Done?! (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8d471d20051b7d6239f943c9457e73a0 WAR: NA: What Have I Done?! (1/1) By: "Addicted" Cousin Erik Time: Tuesday, August 17, 2:45 AM Place: Service Tunnels Under the NA Shrine Apologies to: Any past, present, or future cast member of Les Miz. --- --- Erik looked down at his new attire and was instantly glad he'd secreted himself away in the tunnels under the Shrine. He looked ridiculous! To think he actually allowed those women to talk him into trading his black suit for a toga and sandals! It was too much for him, so he did the only thing he could think of to calm himself down. He began to sing. * What have I done? * Sweet Gaia, what have I done? * Become an Addict like them? * I'm even dressing like one! * Have I fallen so far * And is their power so great * That nothing remains but the mask on my face? He paused, looking around at the deserted tunnels, then continued, a little softer: * I sing in the dark; hope nobody hears * I couldn't stand all of the taunting and the jeers! Erik paused again, this time out of memory loss. It was filk, sure, and he was making it up as he went along, but it still required him to remember how the *original* song went. And as he was filking one of the songs from that musical that he always mixed up with a later song, he had a couple of false starts before settling on this: * If there's another way to go * I missed it many long hours ago * I offered myself for their War -- just for fun * They gave me a toga and said, "Try it on!" * "You'll love it at the Shrine," so they said, * But I've *still* got a sewer for a bed! Reasonably pleased with his voice, he smiled, despite of the fact that he still felt ridiculously dressed. Well, not *totally* ridiculous. He had to admit that it *did* make his shoulders look a little broader. And it *did* emphasize his calf muscles, made firm and lean by his many years playing soccer and ballet. Not to mention that when he crossed his arms, the cut of the toga made his chest seem to swell. One last touch, and he might enjoy this outfit. He took the mask off and set it aside. He'd use it if he needed it, but it really didn't go with the ensemble now. "Yep, it's official," he said to no one in particular, "I'm insane." --- End --- _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gk98-0003op-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 10:23:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5932; Tue, 17 Aug 99 10:17:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2338; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 10:17:01 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 06:48:52 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: NA: Definitely UnStable (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 91b1761fd9b89b54c3661587e856dc9d Title: Definitely UnStable Time: Close to dawn, Tues., after "A General EnCanter" Place: The NA Shrine Stables By Cousin Tser Beta'ng from Jennifer Used and abused with permission. * * * * * Tserisa did some thinking back to her Latin education with LaCroix -- oh, wait, that was a fantasy... doesn't matter, she knew most of it anyway -- Caligula was an insane Roman emperor, if she wasn't mistaken... wasn't that caused by lead poisoning from the pipes? Cousin Tser grumbled a few obscenities in Latin, Klingon, Japanese and English... she would've used American Sign Language as well, but her hands were tied. Tied behind her back, by a very large rope, to a pole in the stables, in a VERY uncomfortable position. Smokey, on the other hand, had been led to one of the stalls and given a generous amount of food. Jennifer/Caligula had left Tser tied there and gone off to *consult* her trusted advisor, Coup-turned-Incitatus, and seemed to be deep in discussion with the horse. A man who looked like a Buff Slave Boy (though Tser didn't recognize him) hovered looking confused nearby, and two cats played in the straw, chasing a rather numerous amount of rats. Jennifer had gotten new rope and tied Tser in this compromising position just when Tser had almost chewed through the rope around her wrists. She had no idea she had that much strength in her teeth. At any rate, she wasn't flexible enough to turn around and get to the ropes now. Maybe some of those ratsies would take a liking to her, and free her from this torture? Suddenly, a ringing echoed through the stables. Everyone in the Sacred Stables started. It was coming from Tser's skirt pocket. Jennifer/Caligula strode over angrily. "What is that noise, servant?" she demanded. "My cell phone, ma'am, er, sir, er, emperor...." "A *what*?" Tser winced. She tried to reach the pocket but her hands were tied too tightly. "A communications device, sends and receives messages...," Tser said, trailing off as she saw Jennifer/Caligula's features harden. The deranged addict plunged her hand into Tser's skirt pocket and pulled out the stylish black phone. Then she threw it on the ground and stomped on it. Tser winced at the *CRUNCH* and cessation of ringing. She had hoped it had been someone Cousinly calling, and then perhaps they could triangulate her position... though she didn't know it, a very important message about an escaped iguana was never to reach Tser's ears. ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GlMk-0002eS-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 11:41:34 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0584; Tue, 17 Aug 99 11:38:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1751; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 11:38:41 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 11:29:12 -0400 Reply-To: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Organization: @Home Network Member Subject: WAR: GSS: Cold as Ice To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 54e4496cf72376d7baec246e7f614561 WAR: GSS: Cold as Ice Time: Tuesday the 17th, 1:30PM Location: GSS HQ By: Jennifer Okerlund (Agent Ice) Agent Ice entered her room and walked to her desk. She opened the door to Spike's cage and picked up the box of rat food pellets and then proceeded to place a handful of them in Spike's dish and closed the door. Ice watched as the pink rat scampered over to them and started to chow down. She picked up a vampire book she was reading and walked with it over to Nick's couch and flopped down. *SQUEAK*-a-Squeak-a-squeak. All right, that was the last time. This couch had squeaked one too many times for her liking. Something had to be done about it. Setting the book down on an end table she got up and grabbed the phone book off her desk. Flipping through she finally stopped on the page that said "Mike's Sofa Repair. Free Pick up and Delivery." Quickly she dialed the number and waited for someone to answer. After a fifteen-minute wait on hold she finally got to talk to someone. She then had a brief conversation with the company and told them what she wanted. Ice hung the phone up and turned to look at the couch with an evil gleam in her eyes. "You'll be squeak-free in two days. Guaranteed!" Walking across the room with a smug look she opened the door and walked out into the hall. She turned the corner and spotted Bob walking her way. "Hey Bob. Can I ask a favor of you?" "Sure." "I need you to help me move my couch to the entrance of the headquarters. I'm having it picked up to get it repaired and I don't think we want non-GSS personnel in here. I was thinking we could move it to just outside the entrance. I can lead the pick-up people through the dungeon and they can get it there." Ice said while walking back towards the door to her room. "Okay," He paused, "Why don't you just get a new couch?" The look he received was enough to tell him that that was not an option. "Because. This is *the* couch. This is... or should I say, *was* Nick's couch. Because, it is my prize of war. Because " "Okay. Okay. I get the point." He grinned and followed her into her room. "Here I'll get this end if you get that end." "Okay, let me move it away from the wall first," Ice said while pulling at the back of the couch with a surprising amount of strength. She slid it out far enough that they could pick it up and maneuver it out the door. They lifted it up and carried it through the corridors of the headquarters towards the entrance. After passing through the main room they exited through the passage to the dungeon. "I'll go ahead and go up to CERK to look out for the guys that are supposed to come to pick it up," Ice said as they set the couch down outside the entrance to the HQ. "I'm going to have to make sure they don't get lost in the dungeon. Thanks for your help." "No problem," He replied Ice turned and made her way through the labyrinth in the dungeon leaving Bob behind. She entered the elevator and pushed the ground floor button. When she felt the elevator come to a stop she waited for the doors to open and then walked out into the lobby. Walking over to a chair she made herself comfortable. After waiting what seemed like an eternity, Ice spotted two men in blue uniforms coming in with "Mike's Sofa Repair" printed on the pocket of their shirts. She stood up and walked over to them. "Are you the one we need to see about picking up a couch?" The one with brown hair asked. "Yes. Could I see some ID please?" She said sternly. She didn't want to take any chances. They could very well be spies. "Uh, sure." The one with the blonde hair said uncertainly as the two men reached into their pockets producing what as far as Ice could tell, looked like legitimate identification after she studied them. "Follow me please." She turned and headed toward the elevator leaving the two men to exchange questioning looks. They shrugged and followed her. The auburn-haired agent stepped in the elevator with the two men and pushed the basement button seven times. The doors closed and they glanced at her uncomfortably as they waited for the lift to descend. The doors opened up and the three stepped out into what seemed like absolute darkness to the two men, whose eyes had yet not adjusted. The only light came from dim torch-like lights on the walls. Ice was used to it and had excellent night vision so she had no problem seeing. "This way," she said, not looking back as she led them through the darkness towards the labyrinth. The three of them traveled though spider web covered corridors, all the while hearing scratching noises all about them. By this time the two men were sufficiently freaked out. They were beginning to think they were in a horror movie and at any moment some vile creature would pop out of the darkness and devour them alive. Ice was secretly enjoying this. It wasn't every day you got to terrify two decent looking guys. She smiled evilly to herself, knowing they couldn't see her face. Ice made sure her steps were slow and unearthly. She could hear them whispering about her as they made their way through the labyrinth. "AAAHH! What was that!" One of them all but screamed. Ice turned to see what he was yelling about. The man with the brown hair was pointing into the darkness. "Don't worry, it was probably just one of the many rats that inhabit our labyrinth." Ice said calmly. "But it was pink and it glowed!" He said frantically. "Rats don't do that!" "Ours do." She smiled and turned to continue to where the couch was located. She wanted to burst out laughing, oooh this was so much fun! Eventually they made their way to the entrance to the GSS HQ. Ice had taken a few detours along the way because she was having such a good time- but she didn't tell them that. "Here is the couch." Ice pointed to the black leather covered piece of furniture. "I trust it will be back in two days?" "Yes. Er, um, please sign here." Blonde-haired-man handed her a form on a clipboard. Ice noted that Brown-haired-man was staring at the bust of the General. She took the clipboard and read the paper completely before signing anything. She handed it back to him, and he set it down on the couch so he and Brown-haired-man could lift the heavy piece of furniture up. "I suppose I should guide you back through the labyrinth... wouldn't want you getting lost now would we?" She said almost menacingly, but not quite. She had observed LaCroix many times and had his manner almost perfect. The two men nodded quickly and Ice began leading them back towards the elevator. In not long they had reached their destination after a few more encounters with pink glowing rats. Ice pressed the button for the elevator doors to open, and the two men set the couch down. "Here is the number I can be reached at," She handed Brown-haired-man a card. "Please call before you drop it off." "Yes, yes of course." Brown-haired-man said while they both nodded. He stuck the card in his pocket. The doors opened and she walked away, overhearing things like, "Addams Family's long lost daughter," and, "Gave me the chills." She waited until they had gotten into the elevator and the doors had closed before she burst out laughing. From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GlYD-0001JS-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 11:53:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6642; Tue, 17 Aug 99 11:37:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1430; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 11:37:33 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 08:37:13 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Enigma Variations (02/02) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 47baeca5d5fa36622a39c934672e8971 ******************************************************************************* Knighties: Enigma Variations (02/02) by Chris Rosmini The Loft After 10 PM Friday and Later, Continuous with Part 1 Nick and the Knighties, Natalie and Janette used with the kind permission of their respective Factions. THE LOFT "Why Nicola" the raven haired beauty in black said archly, "You're busy, perhaps I'll just leave." She waved a gloved and beringed hand in the general direction of the door she had just hurtled out of, and waited for him to beg her not to go. The others had jumped apart a little in in the shock wave of her explosive entrance, but Nick had not quite abandoned his hold on Nat. He had endured six years of protein shakes, garlic pills and now metaphysical electro-shock to be able to hold her like this, and he wasn't going to give it up easily, not even for Toronto's Queen of the Night. It was Nat actually, who said "How _nice_ to see you Janette", and slipped her arm around Nick's waist with a gesture of casual possessiveness and a grip of steel, "but isn't there a party right now at the Raven?". "Indeed there is, where I waited, Natalie ... Nicola ... forever ... for you to arrive." Janette said in the tone of someone not at all used to waiting for anything. She adjusted a diamond earring like a young chandelier, which had been disturbed by her exertions and said "I have something rather urgent to discuss with you, and I was forced to sneak away from my own party, drive myself to this boring part of town and ride in an elevator full of camping gear and ugly plants to do it instead of ...." Somehow, now that she had their full attention, she seemed reluctant really to come to the point. "Janette." Nick interrupted her a litle impatiently, heading off an impending description of the delights and comforts offered by the Raven in Party mode. "Just why _did_ you use the elevator?" "You never trouble yourself to use mortal transportation, it can't just be to make me feel guilty for being late to your party." Janette looked slightly at a loss (which isn't easy when you look like she does), and twisted the glittering diamond and ruby chains around her swan-like throat. "Well, that is the Problem, Dearest Nicola," She said, twitching the stygian folds of her skirt into becoming cascades before continuing in a surprisingly normal voice "I had no choice, I _am_ mortal. Again. And I expect you to Do Something About It." There was stunned silence all around, and then Nick said "After last time? You must be ..." He jumped slightly and looked at Natalie in surprise at her firmly administered pinch. It was Natalie who said "We really do have to talk." THE RADIO SHACK The clandestine Knight Watch looked at each other in amazement, then back at the screen where Natalie led the erstwhile Vampiress to a seat at the table, and smiled when she surreptitiously dusted the seat so as not to besmirch the inky velvet with cookie crumbs or powdered sugar. Nick, rubbing his arm and frowning slightly, joined them there. He hefted a flowering cactus off the table, making elbow room for a conference, and tidied the mulch of computer disks and plant labels Chris had left, pushing a laptop aside. Janette looked around her critically, her usual disdain for his living arangements raised to another level entirely by the piles of travel gear and stray clothing left by the party-goers. "I'm afraid I can't really offer you anything to drink", Nick said apologetically, "there's nothing but cow, and even I ..." his voice trailed off as Janette, who had been pale as a vampire became pale and slightly green. Nat gave him a disgusted look and began to rummage under the sink, saying "There's coffee, I know where you keep it. No, not coffee ... we're ... energized enough as it is." She dug through the rudimentary cupboard space of the ex-vampire's kitchen looking for something potable. "Light bulbs, galoshes, mailing envelopes ..." she read the litany of disappointing discoveries while the watching Knighties tried to remember if there actually was anything in the building fit for _human_ consumption. "There's cocoa," Nancy said, concentrating hard on the screen, "in the cupboard, behind the grass for the indoor golf thingy." "There's cocoa," Nick said as he dug behind a roll of astroturf. "I saw it yesterday. It's only the instant stuff, but I think it's OK, and some of those little marshmallows." "Hmm" said Chris, looking at the Knightie 2IC with new respect. THE LOFT Nat looked at him fondly. "Little marshmallows. You are _full_ of surprises today!" She took the cannister from him and sniffed it dubiously then apparently finding it good, began to heat water for chocolate (milk being a little too connected to cows for comfort). Janette watched Nick set out cups, spoons and napkins, a bowl full of little white lumps, and when she felt she could stand it no longer said "Nicola dear! Natalie! All this domesticity is no doubt charming but there are more important things to consider than garnish. I have other commitments, and _what_ are you going to do about my ... problem. I don't think I can _live_ like this." Nick sat down, leaned his elbows on the table and clasped his hands in front of him before saying gently "That's just it Janette, I don't think there is anything I _can_ do about it. I'm a mortal now myself." He had time while Janette digested this new information to reflect that if they had still been vampires they wouldn't have had to _tell_ each other they were mortal. (Well if they were actually still vampires they wouldn't have had to say it at all, because they wouldn't be, but they would have known if one of them wasn't...) Although actually he had missed it the first time around, too. *No wonder mortals do so much talking.* he thought. Natalie, for her part, was trying to be noble and not feel a tiny thrill of satisfaction at seeing the perpetually poised Janette loose a bit of her savoir faire. *A little vulnerability is a very ... humanizing thing* she thought, *or maybe being forcibly humanized does it automatically*, anyhow it made her a lot more likable. She passed Janette a steaming cup and set two more in front of herself and Nick. "Be careful, that's hot, you can hurt yourself now." she said, and switched from Nanny Nat back to Doctor Lambert Seeker of Truth. "Precisely when did this little accident occur Janette, do you have any idea what caused it to happen? What were you doing at the time?" "It was exactly midnight, last night." Janette began, and took a tentative sip of her chocolate. "I had just left the club with a friend ... we were... " she directed a solicitous look at Nat. "I don't know how much Nick has actually explained to you about our kind, Natalie," she said kindly "it's like nothing a mortal can experience." . She directed a knowing smile at Nick, saying " Although I'm sure mortality has it's ... attractions too." "Never mind, I get the idea." Nat said, gritting her teeth a little and reflecting that while Vampirism might exaggerate personality traits, it apparently didn't invent them. "You're sure it was just at midnight? "Yes, I remember hearing the clock strike, and thunder, and looking up at the full moon, and then feeling terribly, terribly..." she searched back through the centuries for a comparison, "sick, I guess." She looked down at her cup and took another sip, "This is really very good Natalie! This is chocolate?" Nat Nodded. "It felt like I was burning up," Janette sat the cup down and continued her narrative, eyes closed and remembering, "and freezing at the same time, and then I was falling and there was light and noise, and then I woke up and I was lying in the Sun. I was terrified at first, but it was so _warm_, and I felt so _alive_!". She opened her eyes triumphantly, and they were almost glowing with the memory. Nick was listening to this, watching Janette with such total concentration Nat began to wonder just what he saw. Suddenly he stood and stalked across the room to glare intently out of the window into the darkness, arms folded across his chest, leaving Nat with a sinking feeling and Janette staring after him in dismay. She half rose from her seat until Natalie put a hand on her shoulder and drew her back. "Let me", Nat said to the other woman, who gave her a measuring look, as though thinking about the shifting sands herself, and then nodded once and sat back in her chair. THE RADIO SHACK The silent watchers leaned forward in theirs, unaware of the emotional subtext but riveted by the correspondence between this story and the one Nick had told them just yesterday (was it just yesterday, it somehow seemed longer). "Well, twice is just co-incidence." Nancy said. They continued to watch as Nat walked across to Nick and .... THE LOFT ... stood silently beside him for a moment, considering the set of his jaw, the controlled tension in every line of his body as he stood there oblivious to her nearness. Finally she gathered her courage and, pretty evenly considering the tightness in her throat, searching for the right words, said "Nick, I know ... I understand ... that her being mortal changes everything. I know you have ... cared about her ... for a long time, and whatever brought this about, she is still such a part of your life I don't..." "Nat," he said, his icy remoteness melting as he realized what she was trying to say. "That isn't it at all." he put a hand on her arm, "there's a connection, but it's not like you, like us. It's that ..." He broke off, squeezing her shoulder a little in lieu of words, then decided that exactly what it was could wait for another time and they needed to concentrate on the problem of the moment. He resumed after a thought filled pause. "Her story Nat, it's just what I felt, the exact time, the light, the falling ... but I know what I did that caused it Nat! I used the amulet and I became mortal; and so did Janette, whether she wanted to or not; and it's all my doing. It's all my fault." "Oh, come on Nick, how can you be sure?" Nat said, seeing him slip into the old patterns. "How could you know that? Your own experience could have been a dream. Janette is hardly a trained observer! How can you know this wasn't some act of God or freak of nature, or germ warfare or anything else that coincided with you deciding to play with that damned piece of jewelry!" "'Concurrence doesn't prove causality', remember that?" she quoted one of the precepts of her calling. "Oh I'm quite sure he caused it" Janette said coldly, having come up behind them as silently as any vampire, "and more than you know! Miklos is mortal. I know that, but many at the Club tonight who should have known did not. I heard whispers of others. LaCroix did not come to inquire about this lapse of family connections; I think that alone is proof Natalie, although I would not expect you to understand it." Nick stared at the two of them, unseeing, his youthfully beautiful face unreadable, while Natalie reconsidered her feelings of empathy for the unconsentingly converted and worried that Nick might be right. Or even worse, that there was some agenda, some Prime Mover in these events that they knew nothing of. THE RADIO SHACK "And three times is enemy action" Liz completed the epigram. "But does this mean that maybe all the vampires are mortal now, maybe there aren't any vampires anywhere, just people. Maybe they're an extinct ... whatever they are." Eowyn said, in awe of the very possibility that LaCroix and Urs and Vachon and the rest of them could have been translated or promoted or demoted or whatever . 'And this would be a Bad Thing?" asked Chris, THE LOFT "Nicola, exactly what is this toy you say brought this ... curse upon us?" Janette said, working on her third cup of hot chocolate. She curled deeper into the soft leather chair as Nick paced up and down the room trying to imagine the ramifications of her news, his dramatic strides somewhat impeded by the piles of Knightie personal effects. "And where is it now?" "It's gone." he said, halting his perambulation and perching on the arm of the couch. "It disappeared sometime while I was unconscious.", and he proceeded to describe the missing item like he was filling out an insurance report. The details served to distract him somewhat from the mind-numbing fact that he might be free for the first time in eight hundred years, free of the Vampire, free of pursuit, free of LaCroix, and from the faint, surprising twinge of regret that brought. *Although I think I can live with that* he thought, *... Live!* and smiled. "Your memory doesn't seem to be affected by the transformation." Natalie said, dropping down beside him on the couch. "I wonder if that means anything." She picked up her cup and asked "Does it have a name?" "Yes, it's called Galen's Cube" he said, watching Janette's reaction closely, and seeing her freeze ever so slightly before speaking. "Mon Cher, that is a story, a myth to frighten the young ones" she said dismissively. Perhaps only someone who had known her as long as he had would have caught the slight hesitation, been suspicious of her sudden need to return to her party guests, surprised at her perfunctory flirtatiousness as she prepared to go. "It is an interesting puzzle, Nicola, Natalie, what you have done and what will be done because of it. I think it may take all our wits (a flashing glance to Natalie) to come through this ... intact." she said, placing a sparkling hand on his chest. She stared into his eyes for a long moment. "For myself," she finally said, "I am not as sure now, how my choice would go between eternal life and living. But I do not really think the choice will fall to me, and I wonder if the ones who set this all in motion really understand the one who will finally decide." She clasped the hand that covered hers and brought it to her lips. "Tomorrow, Mon Cher, and tomorrow." she said and she was gone. *Smooth, she's smooth.* Nat thought as she watched Nick shake his head and smile when he turned to meet her eyes. "What did she mean about the 'others who will not take this lightly'" she asked him while she gathered up her jacket and her bag. She went to join him by the door, needing to return to her own visitors, her expression more and more serious as she approached. "So everything has changed." she said looking into his dark blue eyes for answers and finding only questions. "And nothing important has changed" he said taking her by the shoulders. "Exept you are mortal. You have what you have wanted for so very long." THE RADIO SHACK The grumble of the elevator drowned out their words, but the Knighties, their various tasks long forgotten, watched as she punched him lightly in the chest, and he laughed and bent his head to whisper in her ear, something that brought out that radiant smile, like the sun rising on his no longer dark world. Still smiling at him she stepped back into the elevator, and just as the door closed she looked up into the rafters, to the unseen watchers, and blew them a kiss. CODA Nick wandered around his cluttered room for a moment or two, alone there for the first time since he spoke to Chris, his whole life sorted and resorted like a pack of cards. *And what am I* he thought, *the Joker? ....No ... maybe a face from an older deck, The Fool.* He busied himself at the sink, tidying their cups. Then remembering how Natalie had done it, he made a batch of hot chocolate, carrying it and the cups and the rest of the little marshmallows over to the couch on a tray. He sat down and waited for the Knighties to trickle sheepishly down the stairs and pick up their cups. And while he waited he thought *I'm mortal. I may be the cause of every vampire in known space being an ex vampire and out for my hide. I am very probably the reason there is a War happening. It is all my fault, and I'm still _happy_.* Fancy that. Finis Chris Rosmini (aka "Roz") chrismin@earthlink.net Knightie Co-Warleader From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Glne-0001Yj-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:09:23 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8957; Tue, 17 Aug 99 12:00:06 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4067; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 11:59:54 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 09:01:45 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War: Vaqs--"Rome Away From Home" 02/02 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8cf9144e23c84ddea2013733361ab653 Vaqs: "Rome Away From Home" 02/02 Tuesday 8/17/99, morning. Set after "Vamos A Negociar" At NA Shrine, Toronto By Echo Blackthorn, Vaq OID Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nada, zip, zilch. Note: Thanks everyone who helped come up with some killer, CPDs! After hauling their things inside, the Vaqs had decided to become acquainted with their new home. Vachon had disappeared around noon, to the Vaqs were on their own on their little tour. Trying to avoid most of the noise and construction, they had explored most of the Shrine. They'd made some disturbing discoveries. LaCroix was everywhere! In pictures and statues, and many other forms. And the rooms "Ugh!" Echo made a face. "Why would any one need a Toga Room?" "Did you see the pool?" Becky practically shrieked. "Screed in a Speedo! I ask you, why!?" "And what's the deal with the Alter Room?" Teresita asked. "If you ask me, it's a tad creepy." "Here, here," Melissa muttered. There were sounds of agreement from the others. "But some of the other rooms are okay," Echo piped up. "Or at least they could be with a little remodeling." A sly gleam entered her eyes. JoAnne looked uneasy. "Echo, what's going on in that peanut gallery you call a mind?" Echo smiled mischievously. "Oh, nothing much. Just a few ideas. If only I had a pen and pad " Suddenly, in a poof of light, the items appeared in Echo's trembling hands. "What in the name of all that is unholy, was that?!" "I believe those were the notorious fanfic fairies we were told about before," Tracy Sue said. "I think we need to be careful with them." Just then, there was another poof of magic and a tiny note appeared on the floor. Donna bent to pick it up and started to read, eyes squinted at the tiny handwriting. "We, the Fanfic Fairies, have a decided that the Nunkies are unworthy of out loyalty due to some unfortunate incidents in the past. Therefore, we are going mercenary. If you should require our services, we will come to an agreement. Just let us know. We're always listening." Echo chuckled evilly. "Oh this will be so good. Let's discuss." The Vaqs gathered into a huddle. Echo Blackhorn _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Glni-0001Yj-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:09:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8987; Tue, 17 Aug 99 12:03:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4551; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:03:40 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:04:56 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: WAR: ENFORCERS: Fraude 2/3 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b092e468ca8daf3b096ba019ecf0f788 Title: "Fraude" 2/3 Time: August 17, 1999. Noon Tuesday Place: A few blocks from the Vaq HQ Written By: Captain Raven and Enid Rodriguez Lt. Steve, Lt. Kim, Lt. Jen, and Lt. Kat are used with permission. Javier Vachon used with permission. Enid adjusted her wig, while Kat removed lint from the back of her blazer. "Ugh, I hate this get up." She pouted. "Calm down, you must look perky." Kat scolded. Steve was in a black van about half a block away, twirling a blindfold in his hands. "Good luck." He whispered into a walkie talkie. "Thanks,"Enid answered into hers, then quickly stuffed it into her back pocket. "Oh...I think I see him." Kim exclaimed in a whisper. She then grabbed Kat and ducked into a nearby bush. "Go for it!" Kat shouted out after Enid. Kim wrapped her hand around Kat's mouth. "Shhh!" Enid slipped on her sunglasses to cover her black eyes. With one final tug on her dark pink blazer, she walked calmly down the street. It was indeed Javier Vachon. Take it easy, Enid told herself. Stay cool. She walked slow, waiting until he reached his motorcycle. Easy.... Javier raised one leg and revved up his bike, making it's engine purr like a kitten. "Buena..." He crooned, sometimes his bike could be better then romance. Vachon looked down at his worn leather jacket. "Caramba!" He swore, finding a spot of dried mustard. "Javier" A voice rang out. Vachon quickly looked up, only to find that the sun was in his eyes. He could make out short blond hair, sunglasses and a pink jacket. He brought his hand to his eyes, shading them, but before he could get a good look at the visitor he was knocked clear off his bike. "What the hell..Mmmhuupphhhh" A pink rag was stuffed into his mouth. Suddenly there were two women, also in dark pink hovering over him. The blow to his head made his vision blurry. They quickly hog tied him with velvet ropes. "MMufffph! Uphhffff!" Vachon tried to shout for help but it was no use. Vachon could hear the sound of a car pulling up in front of the church. Steve jumped out of the van and wrapped the blind fold around Vachon's eyes. Kim and Kat then lifted the handsome cargo and threw into the back of the van. Then they jumped into the back themselves. Enid quickly searched the area, hoping they weren't spotted. She just jumped into the driver's seat of the van, ripping off her wig. She signaled Steve who hopped on the bike, he nodded. Knowing to follow them back to Headquarters, and with that they all sped away like bats out of hell. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gluj-0000Tn-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:16:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6913; Tue, 17 Aug 99 12:07:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4970; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:07:18 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:08:05 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: WAR: A Correction To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f0310775f6011e18f7f0bda5b15f8426 Okay, my fault. We return Vachon to the NA shrine, not the church!!!! SORRY! Enid From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gm4V-0004UN-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:26:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0902; Tue, 17 Aug 99 12:16:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6231; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:16:36 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 09:17:25 -0700 Reply-To: "Nancy A. Taylor" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knighties: Video Voyeurs To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c6983fdc99701e73f04b3cb19c4f6bde Knighties: "Video Voyeurs" by Nancy Taylor Place: the Loft Time: Friday, Aug. 13 -- concurrent with "Enigma Variations" Natalie and Janette used with the kind permission of their respective factions Debra Ann Fiorini and all Knighties used with permission Special thanks to Chris Rosmini (from whom I plagiarized liberally -- with permission) and Sandra Gray, who contributed portions of the conversations :-) Herding the reluctant Knighties up to the roof, Nancy headed straight for the ham radio shack Nick had built and provisioned last year. "Whoa!" she remarked, startled, as she poked her head into the little room. "What?" Eowyn asked, peeking over Nancy's shoulder. "He replaced *everything*!" the awed Knightie radio operator exclaimed. "Everything in here is new, state-of-the-art, and *expensive*!" "So?" Mindy noted coming up behind the other two Knighties. "Nick has money to burn." "Yeah, but last year's equipment was brand new!" Nancy protested, her eyes gleaming with undisguised envy. "Hey, this stuff is *great*!" Liz commented, shouldering her way into the small space. "Multi-band rigs--HF, 6 meters and 2 meters all in one, a digital scanner.... Hey, this thing can pick up cell phone frequencies as well as police, fire and just about anything else," she said excitedly, fiddling with the equipment. "What's this?" Sandra asked, standing next to a bank of monitors complete with a VCR and computer station. "It looks like a full surveillance system." Nancy moved over to the computer and started flipping power switches. The monitors lit up, each with a different view of the loft. There were four from different angles of the main loft area, one for the bedroom upstairs, and several more for the stairwells, elevator and garage. Excited Knighties crowded around the console as they realized that they could be privy to what was going on between Nick and Natalie in the room below. "Can we tape this?" Katrinka asked, eyeing the VCR. "I don't see why not," Nancy grinned, unwrapping a new video tape and popping it into the recorder. Sandra took a step back, disturbed. Memories of another videotaping--of herself and LaCroix in War 5--leaped into her mind. "How do we know which monitor we're recording?" Vickie wondered. Turning to the computer console, Nancy brought up a menu and selected the monitor she wanted then hit the "record" button. "There we go...every last tidbit on tape!" Sandra moved away from the other Knighties and turned her gaze to the flowers in the rooftop garden. She couldn't say she didn't understand their desire to watch, but.... Her memory started to replay images of the destroyed video tapes of her and LaCroix and how embarrassed she'd felt by their display. The Knighties clustered around the monitors, watching raptly as the scene below unfolded before their eyes. "Kiss her you idiot," Nancy said through clenched teeth, clearly expressing the sentiments of most of the Knighties clustered around the surveillance system monitors.... And he did. A collective sigh rose from the ranks of the delighted women. They continued to watch, despite twinges of embarrassment at being such voyeurs, as the scene continued to unfold. "Should we really be watching this?" Zoe asked, a slight blush coloring her cheeks despite the fact she couldn't tear her eyes away from what was happening on the screen. "We've watched every other intimate moment those two have had over and over again on TV," Gemsong commented. "What's so different about this?" A concerted gasp rose from the group as they watched the elevator door crash open and an extremely agitated Janette sweep into the room, interrupting the private moment between the newly united lovers. The commotion coming from the direction of the radio shack finally got the curiosity of Chris, who had decided to check on her garden as long as she was exiled to the roof anyway. Shouldering her way inside just in time to see the dark-haired vampiress enter the loft, she turned to Nancy. "We *are* getting this on tape, aren't we?" she asked. Sandra, her face flushed red, stalked over to the radio shack and said in a stronger voice than the other Knighties were accustomed to hearing from her, "Whatever happens between them..." As eyes turned toward her, she finished, "...should be private." "We're not going to keep any copies," Nancy assured her. "We're just going to give the tape to Nick as a memento, and maybe make a copy for Nat. It's not like we're going to distribute it to all the factions or anything." "I still don't feel comfortable with it," Sandra mumbled. "You know, Sandra," Chris smiled at the reluctant Knightie, "the ultimate goal of this war will most likely be to make Nick a vampire again. He may just really *appreciate* this little remembrance of his time with Nat." Sandra glanced at Chris, conceding the point, but obviously still not happy with the whole affair. The assembled Knighties turned their attention back to the monitor in time to hear Janette speak, "I had no choice, I *am* mortal. Again. And I expect you to do something about it." A collective gasp issued from the group of women. They looked at each other in wonder, then back at the screen where Natalie had led the erstwhile vampiress to a seat at the table, and smiled when she surreptitiously dusted the seat so as not to besmirch the inky velvet with cookie crumbs or powdered sugar. "Always the lady," said Adriana, who had returned early from the Ravenette's party. "I'm afraid I can't really offer you anything to drink", Nick said apologetically from the room below. "There's nothing but cow, and even I ..." his voice trailed off as he observed Janette turn another shade paler and a little green. "There's cocoa," Nancy hissed, concentrating hard on the screen, "in the cupboard, behind the grass for the indoor golf thingy." "There's cocoa," Nick said as he dug behind a roll of astroturf. "I saw it yesterday. It's only the instant stuff, but I think it's okay, and some of those little marshmallows." "Hmm," said Chris, looking at the Knightie 2IC with new respect. Nancy shrugged. "Comes from all that fiction I write, I guess. He gets inside my head." She smiled at the Knightie Leader. Unable to keep their eyes off the monitor for long, the Knighties marvelled at the suave Janette as she discovered the sinful joys of chocolate. "Sure wish we had some of that up here," Vickie commented, her tummy rumbling at the thought. "Shhhh...." Katrinka hushed her. "Listen!" As Janette recounted the circumstances surrounding her newfound mortality, the silent watchers leaned forward, riveted by the similarities with the story Nick had told them about his return to mortality just the night before. "Well, twice is just coincidence," Nancy said with a shrug. The group watched as Natalie tensed where she stood beside Nick. It was obvious to the watchers that she thought Nick still might have feelings for the beautiful raven-haired woman who sat across from him. "Nick, I know ... I understand ... that her being mortal changes everything," Nat was saying. "I know you have ... cared about her ... for a long time, and whatever brought this about, she is still such a part of your life I don't..." "Nat," Nick answered her, his icy remoteness melting as he realized what she was trying to say. "That isn't it at all." His response brought a collective sigh from the Knight Watch crew as they continued to look on in rapt fascination. "...I used the amulet and I became mortal," the ex-vampire continued, "and so did Janette, whether she wanted to or not; and it's all my doing. It's all my fault." "Where have I heard *that* before?" Mindy scoffed. "Oh, come on Nick, how can you be sure?" Nat said, seeing him slip into the old patterns. "How could you know that? Your own experience could have been a dream." "Go, Nat!" Katrinka encouraged her. "Heck, Nick is angsty enough without taking all the blame for this on himself!" she added. The group of women erupted into raucous agreement. It was the general conception amongst the Knighties that Nick took altogether too much of the blame, whether or not it was actually his fault. Their ebullient voices were hushed by Janette's next words. "Oh I'm quite sure he caused it," Janette said coldly, "and more than you know! Miklos is mortal. I know that, but many at the Club tonight who should have known did not. I heard whispers of others. LaCroix did not come to inquire about this lapse of family connections; I think that alone is proof Natalie, although I would not expect you to understand it." "And three times is enemy action," Liz completed the epigram, giving Nancy a Significant Look. "But does this mean that maybe all the vampires are mortal now?" Eowyn asked. "Maybe there aren't any vampires anywhere, just people. Maybe they're an extinct ... whatever they are." "And this would be a Bad Thing?" asked Chris, drawing exasperated glances from the rest of the Knighties. "Nicola, exactly what is this toy you say brought this ... curse upon us?" Janette asked, working on her third cup of hot chocolate. "And where is it now?" "It's gone," he answered. "It disappeared sometime while I was unconscious." He proceeded to describe the missing item like he was filling out an insurance report. As the Knighties listened to the description and myth of the Galen Cube, Nancy turned to the Knightie leader. "Do you think we ought to convene a War Council about this? Sounds to me like we have a lot to discuss." Chris nodded her agreement, frowning in concentration over the conversation taking place below their feet. "It is an interesting puzzle, Nicola, Natalie," Janette said, placing a glittering hand on Nick's chest, "what you have done and what will be done because of it. I think it may take all our wits to come through this ... intact." "You got that right, sister!" Gemsong exclaimed, drawing startled looks from those around her. "I just meant, it looks like we have our work cut out for us," she amended. "I think you're right there," Eowyn agreed. "So everything has changed," Nat was saying as Janette departed. "And nothing important has changed," he replied taking her by the shoulders. "Except you are mortal. You have what you have wanted for so very long." The rumble of the elevator drowned out the rest of their words, but the Knighties, their various tasks long forgotten, watched as she punched him lightly in the chest. He laughed and bent his head to whisper in her ear, something that brought out that radiant smile the Knighties so loved, but rarely witnessed. Natalie continued smiling at him as she stepped back into the elevator. Just as the door closed she looked up into the rafters, to the unseen watchers, and blew them a kiss. "She knew!" Zoe said, awed. "She knew we were up here!" "That's Nat for ya!" Adriana chimed in. "I think we ought to call the Nat Pack and offer them a copy of the tape. Whaddya think?" Nancy asked, turning to the assemblage. "Go for it!" Eowyn encouraged her. Nancy dialed the Nat Pack HQ. "Um...hi, Debra Ann?" she began tentatively. "This is Nancy, 2IC of the Knighties. I think we have something here you *might* like to see...." ~fin~ Nancy A. Taylor War 10 -- Knightie 2IC and Backup Leader From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GmMC-0001ce-01; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:45:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1075; Tue, 17 Aug 99 12:33:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8217; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:33:47 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 12:34:50 EDT Reply-To: Guenvier@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Debra Ann Fiorini Subject: WAR: NatPack: "An Interesting Call" 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5fab370833b512ad0f3c9b27dc11ab93 "An Interesting Call" 1/1 By Debra Ann, Jill, and the NatPack Place: The Raven Timeline: Very late Friday night, at the same time as "Bouncing Matilda". Immediately following "Enigma Variations" and "Video Voyeurs". Nancy Taylor used with her permission. ** "We'd better hurry up and find the rest of these CD's. Someone just called us a limo," Lady Angst announced. "Why?" "I think we are being thrown out of the Raven." "Oh." "That's not bad. I've been thrown out of better places than this and no one called me a limo then." "Shhh. What are you trying to get us killed? And on Nat's night off too?" "Sorry." "Hey, look - there's my two Duran Duran CD's holding up a table leg!" Judy exclaimed. "I didn't even know that table was wobbly." "It wasn't wobbly until someone put the CD's under there." "Why would anyone do that?" "I think it's to keep us from playing them," Maureen commented. "Oh." "I think someone spiked my coke," Meg said, as she bounced by. "Why?" "I hear ringing." "Your coke wasn't spiked," Debra Ann said, "That's my cellphone!" "Oh. Good!" Meg said as she bounced back by in the other direction. "Hello!" Debra yelled into her cellphone over the din of the Raven. "Hello," a voice was barely audible on the other end of the phone. "This is Nancy, 2IC of the Knighties. I think we have something here you *might* like to see...." "Hello!" Debra shouted again into the phone. "Talk louder. We're having a party." "I can hear that," the voice on the phone said. "Are you at a high school reunion? I hear '80's music?" "No, the Raven!" "Really??" "Well, we are about to be thrown out. I think our choice of music has something to do with that." "I understand! But I have something important to tell you. I have a tape you might be interested in." "What kind of tape?" "Oh, let's just say a certain coroner and a certain cop discussing a certain thing called mortality," Nancy almost sang the words. "You're pulling my leg!" Debra exclaimed. "No, I'm not," Nancy laughed. "No, not you, Nancy. Melissa! Melissa, use the table to help you stand. You're pulling my leg!" There was a pause on Nancy's end for a moment. "Oh. Well, if you want the tape I can drop it off at Nat's apartment for you." "Please! I owe you." Debra said, hanging up as soon as she heard the click on Nancy's end. "What till I tell the rest of the 'Pack about this!" Debra Ann said to herself. "Hope I don't forget. I wonder what was in those purple margaritas?" Finis. *** Debra Ann *** ** NatPack * N&NPack * Valentine * UT ** ** HeLLLion * SunS ** ** guenvier@aol.com * fiorini@ac.marywood.edu ** webpage: http://hometown.aol.com/guenvier/guenvierfk.htm From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GmxU-00039N-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:23:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9681; Tue, 17 Aug 99 13:20:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3727; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:20:43 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 02:21:54 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: Fraude (3/3) (a.k.a. Vachon's Adventure) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6d8d1b1defb1d2a02ce63e9e63c99b5a Title: "Fraude" 3/3 Time: August 17, 1999. 12:30pm Place: Enforcer HQ, and back to streets, NA Shrine Written By: Captain Raven of the Enforcement Faction Lt. Steve, Lt. Kim, Lt. Jen, and Lt. Kat are used with permission. Javier Vachon used with permission. Vachon could hear the car motor humming through the streets of Toronto. Voices mumbled to each other but without his vampire hearing, he couldn't make them out. The blindfold they'd wrapped around his head wouldn't budge, so he couldn't see them either. He felt the car stop and he was carried a short distance. Each person grabbed a limb so he wouldn't drag. They were silent within his earshot, such a pity. He started dreaming of hunting them down when he found out who they were. He heard their footsteps echo on a linoleum floor. They stopped walking and he felt the floor drop as an elevator went down. It stopped with a jolt and they walked a little ways, dropping him heavily in a chair. "Lean back," a female voice said. He slowly, cautiously, leaned back, his neck cushioned by what felt like terrycloth. Enid looked at Vachon. Such a pity it wasn't Nick. She would have enjoyed it so much more that way. Vachon heard the water start and his hair got washed slowly. It was so relaxing, he was soon sleeping soundly. Kim slowly unbuttoned his shirt and ran her fingers through his chest hair. She smiled and squeezed the pink bottle over him. The cold, pink liquid woke him up immediately. "Ay!" he exclaimed and tried to sit up. A strong hand restrained him and he leaned back down. The thick pink liquid was spread all over his chest. It burned and stung. After a minute or two, he felt the liquid being sopped up with what felt like a sponge. Enid finished washing and rinsing his hair and sat him up while she dried it. In a few minutes he felt the same burning on his scalp, he struggled to break free. A male voice interrupted him, "Relax, you're here for the duration." Steve smiled. He sighed and relaxed. There was nothing else he could do...all he could think was ... revenge. A sour smell assaulted his nostrils, a smell he couldn't quite place. Drips of some liquid were squirted all over his head. He would have struggled if Steve hadn't stopped him. A bag with holes was placed over his head and tightened. "Gonna be awhile," Enid said, "want some pizza? Hotwings? Wonton?" Vachon shook his head no. Later he felt the pressure release as the bag was taken off. They rinsed it yet again and dried it. Steve said, "That is the brightest shade of pink I have ever seen." Enid smiled, "Why thank you. I try." "And with that chest hair, he'll look like the energizer bunny." Steve giggled. Enid laughed as well. "All right, enough fun," Captain Raven ordered, barely suppressing a laugh. Vachon's only thought was "My hair!" =============== Later in the afternoon around 3:00pm The sun was just starting to hang low as they pulled up in near the NA shrine. They dropped him on the curb near his bike, still hog-tied and blindfolded. "Woohoo," Steve said and pulled out his airbrush. " I'm gonna paint up this baby real sweet." Bright pink paint shot out and covered the entire motorcycle as Vachon struggled to stand. Steve finished the paint job and hopped into the van. Kat pulled up in another black van and jumped out to pass a dozen eggs to those in the first van. Together the six of them pelted the bike and Vachon with eggs and watched them ooze into the bike innards. Vachon ducked and tried to avoid them, but he couldn't see them coming. Finally, the vans drove away and Vachon was left in the dust in front of his church, with his pink hair, pink CHEST hair, and a pink painted motorcycle. ======================== Back at Enforcer HQ, 5pm Throughout the halls, individual offices, the holding cell, the lab, and main conference room only one sound could be heard. Laughter. "Two birds with one stone." The Man in Black told his giggling troops. "Not bad." "Well, it has been a long couple of days. I need a shower." Enid yawned. "I'm going back to my hotel. I'll be back later tonight. Email me if anything happens." Raven nodded. "I'll do that...and good work Lieutenant." Enid strolled out Enforcer HQ and hailed a taxi. Once inside she peeled off that hideous pink blazer. "Excuse me, do you think you could pull up to this corner." The cabbie nodded, not turning around. She quickly ran to a nearby trash can and tossed the blazer in it, first checking the pockets to make sure she didn't leave anything. Enid then hopped back into the cab. "BlackWood Arms Hotel, please". The cabbie nodded again. Enid sat smugly in the backseat."Who can we get next" She asked herself, under her breath. "Huh?" The cabbie asked confused. "Oh, Nothing." She said casually After several minutes passed, they finally pulled up in front of the BlackWood Arms. "8, Madam." The cabbie told her. "Miss." She corrected, handing him 16. "Have a good day Miss." The cabbie said politely, not looking up from the large tip she had given him. Enid entered the lobby of the hotel, very, very pleased with herself and the other enforcers. "I love this faction." ------------------ Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gmxl-00053p-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:23:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1486; Tue, 17 Aug 99 13:21:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3796; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:21:40 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 08:56:55 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--"Rome Away From Home" 01/02 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5a68676959e1c70594cd930bc36feb61 Vaqs: "Rome Away From Home" 01/02 Tuesday 8/17/99, morning. Set after "Vamos A Negociar" At NA Shrine, Toronto By Echo Blackthorn, Vaq OID Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nada, zip, zilch. Note: Thanks everyone who helped come up with some killer, CPDs! =================================================== "Are you sure we have to stay at this place?" Tabs asked again. "Absolutely certain?" Tracy Sue nodded, looking pleased with herself. "Yup! This is the only place that was available." The Vaquero/as stood silently as they stared at the structure in front of them. The Nunkies Anonymous Shrine. Vachon blink-blinked and turned his gaze on the Vaqmommy. "This is going to be strange to say the least." "Boy, when the NAers pick a theme, they sure do run with it," Imijaru said wryly, commenting on the Roman dicor. There was a discontented murmur of agreement from the other Vaqs. Ever since Tracy Sue had told them that they would be switching HQs with the Nunkies, the Vaquero/as had been awfully down. Not only had they inadvertently trashed their beloved church, but now they had to stay at The Shrine of all places! Disheartened, they had packed up their things that morning and had arrived at their new abode just minutes before ten. "Are you sure there's no where else to go?" Emma asked this time, almost pleadingly. The Vaqmommy's had crept towards her Wiffle Bat o' Doom as she growled. "For the last time, No! There is no where else to go! There is a giant hole in the roof of the church and the inside is just Ick! Not to mention that rain is expected!" The Vaqs looked at Tracy Sue, wide-eyed at her outburst. "TS," Vachon murmured. "I think you need to calm down." Tracy Sue sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. Look, you guys, the Nunkies were the only ones to offer us a deal so we're stuck." The Vaqs groaned in unison and the Vaqmommy rolled her eyes. Just then, Cliff spoke up. "C'mon, Vaqueras! It can't be that bad. A few our things here and there and it'll be just like we're back home." He glanced at the Shrine and gulped. "Well, *almost* like the home " Rae shrugged. "Well we might as well go inside." There were sounds of agreement among the Vaqs and soon they were hefting their belongings towards the entrance of the Shrine, with Tammy in the lead. Suddenly she stopped, just in front of the door. "Do you guys hear that?" They all stopped to listen and sure enough, the sound of buzzing and banging could be heard. "What is it?" "Do you think it could be some sort of attack? "Maybe someone should go act as point and see what's going on." The Vaqs all looked at each other then at Tracy Sue. "What?" They blink-blinked. Tracy Sue sighed. "Oh, alright! I'll go check it out." She set down her things and grabbed her Wiffle bat o' Doom. Getting a good grip in her weapon, she squared her shoulders and approached the door. The rest of the Vaqs had set down their things and were right behind her. They opened the door and stepped inside. And were immediately hit by a cloud of plaster and loud sounds. The Vaqs all fell into a fit of coughing and could barely see. "What the *cough* is this that?" Felicia asked, as she waved her arms wildly to clear the air. "Would you shut the door!" A peeved voice yelled from somewhere in the dusty gloom, practically drowned out by the racket. "The draft is stirring up all the dust!" Tammy shut the door and the dust started to settle down. The Vaqs could breathe and see a little easier. And what they saw was quite unnerving. The Shrine looked like a war zone. There were tarps and chunks of plaster everywhere. There were holes in some walls big enough to drive trucks through. And the noise was unbelievable. Tracy Sue's mouth gaped. "I cannot believe it!" she yelled. "We were tricked! And after I went through all the trouble of tricking them!" A few Vaqs snickered. Suddenly, a woman walked out of the gloom. She wasn't all that tall and they couldn't see her face due to the facemask she had on. "What are you doing here?" Tracy Sue stepped forward and explained the agreement they had made with the NAers. The woman chuckled; a very mean sound it was. "They stuck it to you, huh? Well, you're going to have to deal with the mess and noise for as long as you're here. We're on a tight schedule, and," she added, looking about warily. "Those pesky fanfic fairies haven't exactly been making things easier on us." With that, she turned and walked back into the renovation madness. Echo Blackhorn _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gn6I-0003xG-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:32:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9745; Tue, 17 Aug 99 13:29:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4590; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:29:12 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 10:24:20 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--Is That Cotton Candy? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 01fba32c3ceb883945796061c774fa6e 17 Aug 1999 The Scared Shrine to *Us* Toronto, ON 3:oo p.m. Is That Cotton Candy? By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia The Vaqs were spread out around the shrine, still making plans for the changes they so eagerly anticipated. Except Felicia. She had gone off to a relatively quiet corner to catch up on some lesson plans. "See all of this," Echo asked, waving a hand at the various tributes to a certain Roman General. The Vaqs nodded. "Gone, gone gone," she shouted gleefully. There was a chorus of amused laughter. Just then, the door opened. All laughted ended immediately. "What the. . . .? A bewildered Javier Vachon stumbled in the room, his hair a wild shade of pink and his person covered with eggs. "Umm, Felicia, can you come here?" The VaqMom didn't sound pleased. "Hmm, in a minute, I'm fighting the Battle of Bull Run." Tracy Sue's voice got louder. "No, now! We've got another battle right *here*!" Felicia frowned down at her notebook. This was not a request. "Okay, okay, what's the big. . . .Oh-my-good-ness," she said upon turning. "What on earth happened to you?" "Yeah, riiight. As if you didn't know! You're a DP, aren't you?" Cliff was glaring daggers. Felicia made a face. "Yeah, so what? So is Emma." "Uh-huh, but Emma didn't threaten to turn Javier over to the DPS so they could dye his hair!" The Vaq Adjutant's eyes opened wide, a look of amazement on her face. "Wait. Y'all don't really think I meant that, huh?" Silent stares greeted her question. "I can't believe she did it," Vachon mumbled sinking onto a chair. "I just can't believe it." "Javier, who did this to you," Teresita asked. He sighed. "It was Tracy. She distracted me. Then they jumped me. Look at me! I'm pink!" Emma turned to Felicia. "Is it me, or does that sound totally weird to you?" Felicia shook her blonde head. "Okay, hold on, y'all somethin's not right here." "That would be his hair, Feleesh," Tabs supplied helpfully. Felicia sighed. "No, I mean. . ." "But wait," Vachon said, "it gets worse." He pulled his shirt off. Several gasps were heard as the Vaqs took in the pink chest hair. Tammy flung herself away, covering her eyes and and crying, "Oh, the horror!" Melissa watched the scene and said, "Never thought I'd see the day when one of us would hide our eyes to keep from seeing him," she muttered. "We're seeing *a lot* of things I never thought I'd see," Rae returned. "Wait, y'all! Javier, can you tell us what happened?" Echo said, "Isn't that a little obvious, VA?" "Look, excuse me for goin' into Clarence Darrow mode, here, but *I* didn't turn him over, and further, I don't think Trace is behind it, but I'd *really* like to know who is," the Vaq Adj was getting impatient. "Clarence Darrow? Is he the guy who said those nasty things to. ." "Nah, that was Clarence Thomas, wasn't it?" "Then who is Clar. . ." "AAAARRRGGGG," Felicia screamed. She shut her eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. After a few seconds, she spoke calmly, "Clarence Darrow was one of the attorneys in the famous Scopes Monkey Trial." "Who has a monkey that uses Scope ?" Another deep breath. "Now, Javier, tell us what happened." He looked up. "I was on the street. Some woman called my name. I turned. I couldn't see too well, because the sun was in my eyes, but I saw a woman with short blonde hair. I assumed it was Trace. Next thing I knew, I was blindfolded and stuffed into a car or van. I don't know where they took me. They did this. They put me back in the car or van. They drove me a few blocks from here and dumped me. Then they threw eggs at me. By the time I got the blindfold off, they were gone. Felicia's eyes narrowed. "You say Tra, err, this woman called your name?" He nodded. "She said your first name?' He nodded again. "How did she say it? I mean how was it pronounced? Did she say 'Hav-ee-yea' like we do or did she say 'Hav-ee-arrr'. ." "Like Tracy always does," Emma finished, a look of understanding crossing her face. A lightbulb appeared in Vachon's brain. "No," he said, "she pronouced it perfectly. It wasn't her." He looked visibly relieved, pink hair and all. "No way! Besides, I don't see her wasting all those eggs, either," Emma said. "Whew!" Cliff turned to Felicia, a sheepish look on his face. "I really didn't think you did it, VA." "That's a relief," she replied wryly. "I'd hate for y'all to think I'm some kind of modern Brutus." The Vaqs blinked a few times. "Brutus, as in 'Et tu, Brute'? C'mon, y'all! We *are* in a shrine to a Roman General, are we not?' "Oh, but not for long," Echo sang! A few "Amens" rang out. "Javs, go hit the shower," the Vaq Adj said. "You look like you got too close to an exploding cotton candy machine." All the Vaqs laughed, and Vachon slunk off to wash the dye out. "Hey, we've got to figure out who is behind this before something else happens," Tracy Sue said. "Ah, no biggie. It'll be some other faction after all. Lightening never strikes twice," Teresita replied. Felicia began, "Yeah, that's what. . ." "Please! No more historical references! We've had our fill for today," Tabs begged. Felicia just shrugged and went back to her lesson plan. Even the Battle of Bull Run seemed simple comparatively. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2 "War! Ha! Good God, y'all! What is it good for? Absolutely nothin'"--'War'--Edwin Starr. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GnRR-0006bY-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:54:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7836; Tue, 17 Aug 99 13:46:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6517; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:46:58 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 10:49:03 -0700 Reply-To: Allie Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Allie Subject: WAR:N/A: What The Rat Said (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f6df97e4e74b5fb380090680b80b0738 WHAT THE RAT SAID - Part 2 by Allie Nunkies Anonymous member of good drinking Setting: The Shrine, Tuesday afternoon, just before Bons tells us we're moving Use of Nunkies and Addicts with appropriate Permission Requested and Granted Rat used with permission of ACTRA. What The Rat Said - Part 2 "Where are we going?" The tiny voice sounded panicked as Allie shut the car door and ran around to her side of the car. She slid behind the steering wheel, buckled up and started the car without looking at the trapped rat. "Where are you taking me?!" the rat demanded again. "Please! I can help you win this war!" "Yeah, right!" Allie grumbled. "Take me back to the Shrine! I can prove it to you!" Allie laughed, rolling her eyes. "Oh sure! I'm going to go back in there and tell Lacroix and all the Addicts that I heard a rat talk? How stupid do you think I am? You'd sit there and say nothing and then they'd think I'm insane!" "Do you doubt the evidence of your own ears?" the rat shrieked. "Yes," Allie retorted with an edge of hysteria in her voice and lop-sided smile. "I could be affected by Tiff's powder. Second hand whiff." "Powder?" "Or I could have been drugged at Ravens and the side effects are just kicking in now." "Two days later?" the rat scoffed. "Listen to me. There's a perfectly good explanation. Please LISTEN! I'm a vampire. Over 200 years ago a karouche bit me, and I bit back! I managed to get away, and I've been feeding on small mammals ever since!" "Even if that were true, you'd still have the brain of a rat. I'm not falling for this trick!" "I don't claim to be Einstein, but a rat is smart enough to learn to speak if he lives long enough. I've lived forty times longer than any other rat!" "If you were a vampire rat, you'd be mortal now like all the other vampires." "And so I am, or I could get out of this cage!" "I don't believe the rat's throat is designed for speech." "Watch me!" he squeaked. "Read my lips!" Allie pulled over in front of a store and grinned evilly. "Don't go anywhere." "Where are you going?" the rat replied anxiously. Allie ignored him and hurried into the store. The moment she returned to the driver's seat she began ripping open the plastic covering a box. She removed a large magnifying glass and began to examine the rat. "What are you doing?" "Looking for the tiny camara," she replied as she squinted. "And the miniscule speaker/transmitter." "Oh for god's sake," the rat replied. "You've been watching too many movies." "They can make these things so tiny these days..Anyone can get them. They use them to spy on people and put them on the Internet. There could easily be wires on you! I mean, on this rat." "So if someone used me to spy on you," the rat challenged, "how did they get me to obey their commands? Why didn't I just chew a hole in a wall and go where I want? The whole premise is ridiculous." "Maybe you were trained to follow a certain course. Maybe they gave you electric shocks until they knew you'd go just where they planned. I mean, you, whoever you are, trained this rat to go where you wanted." "Stop talking about me in the third person! Just take me back to the Shrine and I'll prove that I can help you. We don't have to talk to anybody else," the rat pleaded. "Just Nunkies," Allie scoffed, "if he sees me bringing a rat back INTO the building! No!" "I can show you secret urls!" "And plant a virus in our computer! Forget it! Tell me who sent you!" "Nobody sent me!" the rat squealed. "I just want my immortality back! I don't care who wins this war!" Allie sat back and thought about this. She hated to admit it, but it was hard to imagine how anyone could use a rat for surveillance...unless it wasn't a real rat. A robot rat? She turned to look at his twitching nose and blinking eyes, slim long-toed feet through the magnifying glass again. No way! This was a real rat. This was really a talking rat, or she was drugged, OR she had slipped right over the edge without any warning whatsoever... "And if you get your immortality back, you couldn't bring me across could you?" Allie asked him. The rat uttered a short, squeak of a laugh. "Oh my lord, no. You're much too large. I might be able to bring across a guinea pig. And if the guinea pig brought across a small rabbit, who brought across a small cat, who brought across a small dog--" "Forget it," Allie sighed. "I could never call a Rat 'master' anyway." "Why not? The Ninja Turtles called a rat 'Sensei'." "But imagine being descended from a long line of animals." "You think you're not?!" Allie laughed, then sobered. "So how could you help us win the war?" "I could spy for you." She smirked sourly. "And the moment you're free, you're free to go! How do I know you won't just take off, or switch sides to whoever can get you your immortality fastest?" "I give you my word," the rat said proudly. "Your word as a rat?" "Yes!" Allie shook her head and started the car. "We're going back to the Shrine?" the rat asked. "No, we're going to the pet shop," she replied. "WHAT?!" the rat shrieked. "NO! PLEASE! NO!!!" "Just to get you a cage!" "Ohh," the rat seemed to collapse. "Thank god. And don't forget a bag of those green things. They're great." Half an hour later the rat had been carefully transferred from the trap to the cage with fresh shavings, a bottle and a bowl of great green things. the cat watched with interest from a chair in the corner. Tiff shook her head in bemusement. "Lacroix orders you to get rid of all the rats, and you put one in a cage to keep as a pet?" "I'll kill all the others," Allie promised as Tiff was leaving the room. "All but this one." "This one," she added quietly, "is going to live forever." "Don't bet on it," the cat said. THE END (I THINK) _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GnSh-0004Ry-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:55:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9879; Tue, 17 Aug 99 13:46:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6391; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:46:05 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 10:46:42 -0700 Reply-To: Liz the Lucky Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Liz the Lucky Subject: WAR: Nothers/Mercs: Just Desserts To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6409bf02e3ab9825c290bed71ca983d6 Title: Just Desserts Time: Sunday, August 15th, sometime in the afternoon Where: Le Chateau Des Autres and Merc Cental Written by: Liz the Lucky with help from Kat and LIbbys All real pepple used by permission. I created Andre, and I give myself permission to use him. Just Desserts "Kat, you busy?" Liz knocked on her cybertwin's door. "I need to talk to Andre and I want some backup." Kat looked up from her book. "You have lost it, haven't you?" she asked. "I mean, I had to leave my sword and explosives collection back in the Highlander fandom, remember?" "Course you did. You didn't want to actually hurt anyone this time, did you?" Liz smiled, then shrugged. "Oh well, I suppose I can go by myself. Maybe if you're lucky, you'll get my half of our brain when he kills me." "You are _evil_, you know that?" Kat sighed. "Oh all right, but you are gonna owe me so big for this." She closed her book and got up. "Too bad I left the Fedora of Doom in the wrong fandom too." "Course I'm evil, where do you think Elaine gets it from?" Liz asked, then pouted. "You still love me, don't you?" "Don't I always?" Kat replied. "Why else would I put up with you?" Then she winked at her other half before picking up her Eeyore Backpack of Useful Things (formerly the Purple Backpack of Useful Things 'cause the purple one fell apart). "C'mon, let's get going before I regain my insanity." "And we wouldn't want that, would we?" Liz teased. A few minutes later, they were outside the kitchen. "Okay, you found him, you need to talk to him, you knock on the door," Kat said. "Hold my hand?" Liz asked. "Wuss." But Kat took her friend's hand. Liz carefully knocked on the door. When there was no answer, she opened it up and the two went inside. "Andre?" she asked. "Darn, he's not here," Kat said a little too quickly. "Guess we'll have to leave." A knife suddenly whooshing by their heads and landing on the far wall announced the chef's presence. "Vous in mon kitchen. What vous doing in mon kitchen?" "This is what I get for letting you talk me into coming here," Kat grumbled. "Fitz never throws things at my head." "Yeah, but all we have to do is flash a little leg and he's a pussycat. And no crossovers, remember?" Liz reminded her. "Um, I need to you bake a few things," she then told Andre. Andre didn't answer. He just glared. "It's a real opportunity to stretch your culinary talents, Andre," Kat added hopefully. "I, uh, need to provide Merc Central with dessert for the rest of the War," Liz said. "Chocolate dessert." "How much desserrrrrt?" Andre asked. "About two weeks worth," Kat answered. "Or at least that's what I thought you said. Isn't that what you said, Liz?" "Supposedly," Liz agreed. "Although there are always people posting late. Of course, if you don't think you can handle it and the party at the same time...." That was a mistake. Andre pushed past then and grabbed the knife off the wall. "Eep," Kat squeaked. "I make desserrrrrt," he insisted. "Vous come back in hourrrr, I have something for vous. Non?" "Hour, an hour sounds reasonable," Kat stammered. "Don't ya think an hour is reasonable, Liz?" "I think it's very reasonable," Liz agreed. "In fact, how about Kat and I let you alone so you can get started? That sound good to you, Kat?" Kat nodded a little too enthusiastically. "Oh sounds very good, Liz," she answered. "We'll just hightail it out of here right now as a matter of fact." Not bothering to wait for his answer, the two did just that. Andre watched them leave, then got to work. For some reason he never understood, everyone always seemed afraid of him. A couple of hours later, Liz was on the way to Merc Central. It wasn't easy. She was carrying a very large tray full of chocolate cake, and every so often a rat would run in front of her, trying to trip her. One thing for sure, Liz was _definitely_ gong to have a talk with Libby about the rats and see if the RatPacker could get Screed to do something about them. Not that Liz didn't like rats. She did, but she preferred them not underfoot. Especially since she was still having side effects from the metholtrexate. Nasty drug. Any medicine where one of the possible side effects is dropping dead wasn't worth taking, in her opinion. Reaching the panel that separated the sekrit tunnel from Merc Central, she opened the peephole just in case the Boss was around. Laurie didn't know about the passage and what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. What she did know _could_ hurt Liz and Libby, since they were the ones responsible for it, so they had both agreed to keep her in the dark. Luck was with her -- the Grand High Poobah was nowhere in sight. I fact, it sounded like several of the Mercs were being 'treated' to a 'concert' of the Boss' latest filks. Poor guys. As Liz entered Merc Central and headed for the kitchen, she idly wondered if he could collect rewards for rescuing the Mercs. Naaah. Laurie might get mad. Er, madder. Liz got out plates, forked and a knife to cut the cake with, then headed towards the rec room. Note to self: Next time, wear your earplugs. "Anyone for cake?" she asked, just as Laurie was opening her mouth for the next verse. The next several minutes were spent with Liz slapping the hands of over-eager Mercs, grateful for the interruption. "Uh uh, Laurie gets the first slice," she told an extremely tall (to her, anyway) brown haired, brown eyed Merc with glasses she vaguely recognized as Gubs. Cutting a corner, well, okay, one whole end, Liz put it on a place and handed it to the Grand High Poobah, along with a fork. Laurie took a bite, carefully tasting it. And another. "It'll do," was the final verdict. Breathing a sigh of relief, Liz handed the next slice to Mildred. (Hey, she knew who to suck up to. ;-) After the Merc Mommy General had nodded and wandered off to savor the cake in private, Liz cut the rest of it and handed it out on places. Once all the Mercs were busy digging in, Liz went over to Libby. "Libs, can I speak to you?" she asked, glancing towards the GHP. "Alone?" "Alone, eh?" Libby asked with more than a little suspicion and anticipation in her voice. "An' jest wots h'in h'it fer the LibRatsie?" Liz, prepared for just such a response, pulled out a little bag of cheese flavored crackers, fat free. "Well, why did ya na jest say so h'in the foirst place," Libs replied happily, ripping open the package and munching happily. "Innythingee fer anudder E-Liz-a-Libby-Beth." The two Elizabeths went off down one of the halls. "You know that tunnel you made for me to the Chateau?" Liz asked. "I kept finding rats all over the place in there. I thought you said only Mercs would be able to use it." "Kin't con-troll them squealers. Got h'a mind-ya-temperment o' their h'own, ya know." Libby shrugged. "An' wit' Screed bein' one o' h'us mor-tal-ity types now, h'all the lil' ratsies h'are breedin' an' con-nivin' an' gettin' totality h'out o' innyone's 'ands. H'ain't nuthin' wot we kin do wit' tha' sort o' thingee h'until Screed's put back h'inta rodent slurpin' ca-rouche-ness." "Screed's mortal?" Liz repeated. "Poor thing. He must be miserable right now. Would he like a piece of cake?" Libby looked at Liz with even more suspicion than before, though she was grinning mischievously. The RatPacker shuffled back and forth as if trying to decide whether or not there was a trick attached to the offer. She finally grabbed the piece of cake off the plate Liz held, and dashed off in Screed's directly saying, "Thankee. Ol' Libs will make sure 'e gets h'it." Liz suspected Libby was nibbling at the cake, but knew the RatPacker would make sure Screed got most of it. Oh well, she'd still managed to do something nice and now Libby owed her a favor. Not bad for a day's work. THE END Hugs and Kisses, Liz the Lucky FoD Merc luckyliz@mindspring.com Nanette Nother http://www.mindspring.com/~luckyliz From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GnUD-0006oY-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:57:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7907; Tue, 17 Aug 99 13:54:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7561; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:54:04 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 10:56:14 -0700 Reply-To: Allie Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Allie Subject: WAR:N/A: What The Rat Said (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 779da7e04186505950d56ccdcc5be66e WHAT THE RAT SAID - Part 1 of 2 by Alicia, member of good drinking, Nunkies Anonymous Takes place at the Shrine just before Bons announces we are moving to the Church, August 17th. Use of Nunkies & fellow Addicts with required permission. The rat appears courtesy of ACTRA. Allie's eyes bugged out as her Inbox appeared on the small laptop screen. "Erk!" The involuntary noise attracted the attention of nearby addicts. "Something wrong?" Bons asked. "141 letters in my Inbox!" she squeaked."I had it down to 19 last night!" Bons, Shele and Tiff glanced at each other in mild amusement. Allie was sure she heard one of them mutter, "Newbies!" Allie was attempting to keep track of the reports on progress of the War; she hadn't expected anywhere near that volume! 'WHAT have I got myself into?' she wondered. She was especially interested in the movement of Dark Perks because she managed to record some of their War plans during the drive to Toronto. Two young members of the DP faction had picked her up when her car broke down, and spoke very freely, never suspecting that she was an Addict. This seemed like a fabulous coup for a brand new member of the faction, and Allie had fantasized about handing the tiny cassettes from her voice-activated recorder into the hands of Nunkies himself. She had imagined that he would be particularly impressed by the gift delivered by this complete novice; that he would consider her a very promising new recruit, welcoming her with a kiss on the hand and a seductive smile. Unfortunately, things had not turned out that way. The first shock had been the sight of the Shrine. When Allie saw what looked like a bombed out ruin, she assumed the damage had been wrought by an enemy faction. The news that the Shrine was undergoing renovation did not make the discomfort of sleeping on saw-dusty floors in a sleeping bag less unpleasant. Even more disappointing was her first sight of Nunkies himself. Allie had hoped the ancient vampire would be courtly and flattering to a new member but Nunkies totally ignored her and looked too grimly furious to even approach. The Addicts explained that Toronto's vampires had been turned into mortals--including Nunkies! He didn't care much for being seen in this more vulnerable state, so his behavior was more imperious and intimidating than ever. None of the addicts suspected just how deeply disappointed Allie was by this; secretly she had hoped...well, that maybe.. When she explained to the other addicts how she had managed to record DP plans, Patt had taken the cassettes to Nunkies for her but nothing was said about them until Allie screwed up the courage to ask a few days later, and then Patt had said: "Well, Nunkies feels that the Dark Perk leaders must have already had their battle plans in place. The two who picked you up were very young, after all. But you never know," she added trying to lift Allie's spirits. "He was pleased that you were sneaky enough to betray people who had done you the favour of giving you a drive when you were stranded!" "Oh?" Allie grinned. "What did he say??" Patt's face fell as she was caught out. "Well, nothing actually, but I know how he thinks, and I'm sure that would please him." "Oh," Allie had said. "Thanks." "War is like that," Bons put in sympathetically. "Unpredictable." "I know," Allie sighed. "But I made such a big thing about having top secret information when I arrived. I don't want everyone to think I'm full of hot air." She froze as she realized what she had said, to Bons of all people! Her mortification was easy to see. "That's okay," Bons reassured her, but as she turned away she moved her hair to cover her air plug. Now she sighed, sorting through the reports for some sign that even one of Jenny or Miranda's plans were being put into action. It would be nice to be vindicated. Suddenly a rat raced past the keyboard, tickling her wrist with its fur. Allie let out an involuntary shriek. She was not afraid of rats, but this one had startled her! She was about to be startled even more. Behind her the unexpected voice of Lacroix bellowed: "DO SOMETHING ABOUT THOSE RATS!!!" Allie jumped, which made it easy to her to pull her feet under her and turn to face him in a standing position. "Yes sir!" she stammered, eyes wide with fear, and then she raced out of the room. Her heart was still pounding when she reached her car, but her mind was racing even faster. The first words Nunkies had ever said to her and they had to be: "Do something about those rats!" Allie had no idea what to do. Rat traps? Cats? Poison? The truth was she was soft-hearted and didn't like the idea of harming even vermin. 'Did he really mean it?' she wondered. 'Was he really giving her an order to solve the rat problem in the shrine? Or did he just blow his top because he was angry about being mortal, and in the midst or renovations (which was even worse!)' Allie decided she couldn't take the chance of disobeying him. She had already gotten off to a bad start in this war, getting drunk and making a fool of herself at the Ravens party (although Tiff had nicely pretended that Allie did that on purpose to divert attention while she stole the tapestry.) She remembered Janette's reaction to her attempt to strip. Janette was Nunkies' daughter; she was likely to repeat the entire story to him, if she hadn't already. Allie returned to the shrine with three solutions to the rat problem: a humane trap, a killing trap, and a cat. She would scientifically discover which was most effective and if anyone had a problem with it, they'd have to take it up with Nunkies. Within an hour all three methods had some success. The killing trap finished three rats, the cat caught four, and she found one pacing rat in the humane trap. Allie lifted the trap, intending to take the rat for a drive and set it free, but then a high pitched voice spoke. "Please! Don't kill me! I can help you! I swear it!" Allie almost dropped the cage. She stared at the rat incredulously, and then whipped her head around, looking for the practical-joking Addict. There was no one there. "Just let me out and I'll tell you anything you want to know!" the rat seemed to squeak. "Tiff!!" Allie yelled in outrage. "Did you use that bloody powder on me??!" End of Part 1 of 2. _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GnsG-0000Ba-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 14:22:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8072; Tue, 17 Aug 99 14:07:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9840; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 14:06:40 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 14:07:52 EDT Reply-To: Guenvier@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Debra Ann Fiorini Subject: WAR: NatPack: A Strange Delivery 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5efc947e6d143f26d4a72055a5477d55 A Strange Delivery 1/1 Or "What the hell is this Thing?" by Debra Ann, Jill, and the NatPack Place: Natalie's apartment Timeline: Sunday the 15th, following "Bouncing Matilda" and "An Interesting Call." *** First came the crash, then the tinkle, then the chorus of "Oops". Somewhere in the middle of the sound of tinkling glass falling on her kitchen floor, Natalie made her way from her bedroom to the kitchen. "What broke?" Natalie asked. "And are all of you okay?" "We're fine," the NatPack replied en masse. Even the ones who weren't anywhere near the kitchen announced they too were fine. Tina cleared her throat and pointed to the broken glass on the floor, "We were just wondering if that was very important or expensive?" "It's too broken apart for me to tell," Nat sighed. Another chorus of "Sorry" filled Nat's apartment. Nat left the kitchen and headed for parlor where most of the Pack was seated, watching videos and talking. "I didn't know you guys were awake yet until I heard the crash." "Watch! Don't sit on Buffy!" Debra Ann yelled, causing Nat to jump away from her favorite chair. "What is this?" Nat asked, picking up a somewhat worn gray stuffed poodle with a drooping tail. "That's Buffy," Jill answered with a depressed sigh. "It's Debra Ann's good luck charm. She doesn't fly without it. "Okay, I'm superstitious," Debra shrugged, taking Buffy from Nat's hands. "But I've had it since I was nine and old habits die hard." "Whatever," Nat said and sat in the now unoccupied chair. "Hey, wait a second?" "Yes," the Pack replied. "You named your poodle after a TV show character who kills vampires?" "No," Debra Ann shook her head. "She's a nineteen-year old poodle. She predates that." "You named it after that kid who was on that show with Mr. French?" Judy asked. "No way, give me a break." "So Nat," Robyn said, "You haven't told us yet what happened at Nick's loft." Nat shook her heard slowly, "You won't believe it when I tell you." "Try us!" "Well," Nat began. Just then the doorbell rang. "Hold that thought," a rather depressed Jill said from where she was laying on the couch. "I'll get it!" Meg announced and bounced towards the door. "Hello?" "Who is it?" Meredith asked. "No one. There's no one here." Tina looked up from what she was doing. "How weird!" "But there is a box here," Meg announced. "Is it for me?" Natalie asked. "I guess, but it doesn't have any specific name on it." Judy dropped what she was doing and moved closer to Meg and the box. "Open it." "Should I, Nat?" Meg questioned. Natalie nodded, "Be my guest." "Be careful, it could be a trick," Debra Ann cautioned. "I'll open it," James said, taking the box. Several people asked, "What is it?" at about the same time. "I'm not quite sure." Meg replied, "But it's beautiful. It's like an antique sliver of entwined gold and silver. Very cool." "It does look like an antique," Robyn commented. "You like it Meg and you found it. You'd better hang onto it." "That's right," Natalie agreed. "Meg, you keep it." Meg shrugged, "Sure. I think I'll make a necklace out of it. Anybody mind?" There was a chorus of "Nope, I don't mind". "Great," Meg said, "Let me find a chain to hang it on. "Nat, you were about to tell us about Friday night at Nick's loft," Jill reminded her. "Wait!" Debra Ann exclaimed, holding up a hand before Natalie could answer. "I just remembered something! I have video." "You have what?" Natalie and James asked in unison. "Remember that package that was waiting by the door with my name on it when we returned from the Raven??" Everyone except Natalie nodded in agreement. "Let me find it and pop it in the VCR and Natalie can narrate." "Why can I do that?" Nat asked. "Because I was told it's a video of you on a certain someone's roof. Haven't seen it yet myself." "Someone videotaped that and then sent it to you already??" Natalie said, rather surprised. "Well," Maureen said, "they say all's fair in love and war." "Thanks for reminding me," Nat sighed. "Put it on, Debra," Judy called out. "I will," Debra said, "as soon as I find it. Anybody see a video tape?" "This apartment is filled with videotapes," Meg commented. "Well, everybody give me a hand and start looking for one labeled ROOF," Debra said, "and Nat, hold that thought." "Here it is," James announced, "One videotape labeled ROOF." "I have the VCR ready, let's see what's on this puppy," Robyn said, taking the tape from James. For the next twenty or so minutes, the NatPack sat in complete silence (a momentous feat in itself!) enraptured by what they watching. Every so often, Natalie made a sound like she was clearing her throat but otherwise, no one said a word. When it was over, Kimberley leaned forward and flicked the TV and VCR off and everyone turned towards Nat. "So," Natalie began, "what I was going to tell you was that somehow and in some strange way - all the vampires in Toronto are now mortal." "Wow," someone said softly. Everyone else just nodded in agreement. And then the silence dissipated as twenty or so NatPackers started to talk all at once and Natalie tried to figure out whose questions to answer first. Finis. *** Debra Ann *** ** NatPack * N&NPack * Valentine * UT ** ** HeLLLion * SunS ** ** guenvier@aol.com * fiorini@ac.marywood.edu ** webpage: http://hometown.aol.com/guenvier/guenvierfk.htm From - Tue Aug 17 19:10:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GnsH-0000Ba-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 14:22:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8471; Tue, 17 Aug 99 14:15:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4272; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 14:15:20 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 11:16:16 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA/CGW: Roy, Roy the Buff Slave Boy To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 37763125bae3a8e66d98d52b76d7d12c WAR: NA/CGW: Roy, Roy, the Buff Slave Boy By: MacCousin Heather with a great deal of help from Brenda Bell and Cousin Sukh Time: After 'I need a Drink!' -- 3:45 AM Place: Streets of Toronto and then The Fiendish Glow Everyone is used with permission. Roy is Sukh's creation, I'm using him with her permission. "Suuukh! MacCooousin!" The red-haired, green-eyed buff hunk known around Madame Kiki's and the shrine as Roy whined. The moped whirred as he drove through the streets of Toronto. Roy hated to be left behind and he found it intolerable that Sukh and MacHeather left him alone at the shrine. Besides that, there was the plan to consider. **** (Meanwhile, at the entrance of the Fiendish Glow) "Darn!" MacCousin placed the kitty carrier carefully next to the building. "We should have taken the Michaelcycle!" Sukh rolled her eyes at Heather. "Hush! We aren't supposed to do crossovers during WAR!" "D'oh!!!" "Ah-ah-ah!" Sukh admonished. MacCousin sighed. The two women turned to hear a familiar putter of a moped. "Hey it's....," began Sukh. "Roy, Roy, the Buff Slave Boy!" The two women chorused. Roy stepped off the moped and stared at the two women. "Yoooou left me behind!" he whined, his French Canadian accent echoed through the alley. MacCousin opened the door as Sukh began to pull Roy inside. MacHeather gave Sukh a conspiratorial grin and said, "You know Roy, it's the rules that all the men inside here have to wear kilts." Roy folded his arms across his chest. "I'm French Canadian! We don't wear kilts!" "It's the rules!" replied MacHeather, at least it was rules in her eyes. "We'll get you a French-Canadian tartan," plied Sukh. MacCousin began to fiddle with the lock. 'Darn!" she grumbled. "Oh wait, I just remembered I have a key to the back employees entrance. The two women pulled Roy to the back and then after Heather opened the door, pulled him inside. **** "We're here!" the two hyper women yelled into the now-closed pub/cantina. "We're here!" They were now officially ready to annoy anyone in a five-mile radius. MacCousin began to pull down bottles of Glen Livet, her personal favorite Scotch, rather nosily. he checked Brenda's personal wine cellar for something for Sukh, but grew disgusted when she couldn't read any of the French, Italian, or Hebrew labels. Finally she went to the fridge to see if maybe, just maybe, her fellow Glow Worms had the sense to lay in a supply of wine coolers. She ended up pulling out a bottle of peach Chardonnay that had been stowed there between Wars, despite Brenda's vigorous protests. "What's your poison?" she asked, turning to Roy with a wicked grin. "What the #$&*%^!!! is going on?!" Pen grumbled, exiting the room she had just entered with the purpose of getting some much-needed sleep. "Pen!" MacHeather and Sukh yelled. "We've got soooo much to tell you!" "AArrrgghh," Brenda peered out, pulling on a ratty T-shirt over well-worn jeans. "Farmer's Market starts at four, and I need to see if there's anything *special* there for the menu... "We've got great stories to tell!" Sukh grabbed the glass of wine. Brenda and Pen rolled their eyes at each other. "Oh by the way this is Roy." Heather opened the carrier. "And this is Lucius." "Meowr-Rowerr!" The black cat meowed his strange meow to the group of tired Glowworms/Fiends, hyper addicts and the silent Roy. The current residents exchanged a knowing glance. *What's Chris going to say?* they each thought. ***** "Then we danced for the Cousinly leaders in peach colored bellhops uniforms!" continued Sukh joyfully. Pen yawned. The downstairs door slammed. The first rays of post-dawn daylight streamed through the windows. Brenda trudged up the stairs, arms laden with several varieties of salad greens and a box filled with several large cups of coffee, black. Roy looked bleary-eyed at the MacCousin and Sukh, wondering if they'd ever quiet down. Through it all, Lucius slept silently in his chair. ***** MacCousin Heather Keeper of the MacNunkies Tapestry http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/ ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:11:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gowc-0005G8-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 15:30:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9117; Tue, 17 Aug 99 15:28:35 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2980; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 15:28:35 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 10:42:58 -0700 Reply-To: Allie Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Allie Subject: WAR:N/A: What The Rat Said To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 384995f11f1ae42408ab444877f35883 WHAT THE RAT SAID - Part 1 of 2 by Alicia, member of good drinking, Nunkies Anonymous Takes place at the Shrine just before Bons announces we are moving to the Church, August 17th. Use of Nunkies & fellow Addicts with required permission. The rat appears courtesy of ACTRA. Allie's eyes bugged out as her Inbox appeared on the small laptop screen. "Erk!" The involuntary noise attracted the attention of nearby addicts. "Something wrong?" Bons asked. "141 letters in my Inbox!" she squeaked."I had it down to 19 last night!" Bons, Shele and Tiff glanced at each other in mild amusement. Allie was sure she heard one of them mutter, "Newbies!" Allie was attempting to keep track of the reports on progress of the War; she hadn't expected anywhere near that volume! 'WHAT have I got myself into?' she wondered. She was especially interested in the movement of Dark Perks because she managed to record some of their War plans during the drive to Toronto. Two young members of the DP faction had picked her up when her car broke down, and spoke very freely, never suspecting that she was an Addict. This seemed like a fabulous coup for a brand new member of the faction, and Allie had fantasized about handing the tiny cassettes from her voice-activated recorder into the hands of Nunkies himself. She had imagined that he would be particularly impressed by the gift delivered by this complete novice; that he would consider her a very promising new recruit, welcoming her with a kiss on the hand and a seductive smile. Unfortunately, things had not turned out that way. The first shock had been the sight of the Shrine. When Allie saw what looked like a bombed out ruin, she assumed the damage had been wrought by an enemy faction. The news that the Shrine was undergoing renovation did not make the discomfort of sleeping on saw-dusty floors in a sleeping bag less unpleasant. Even more disappointing was her first sight of Nunkies himself. Allie had hoped the ancient vampire would be courtly and flattering to a new member but Nunkies totally ignored her and looked too grimly furious to even approach. The Addicts explained that Toronto's vampires had been turned into mortals--including Nunkies! He didn't care much for being seen in this more vulnerable state, so his behavior was more imperious and intimidating than ever. None of the addicts suspected just how deeply disappointed Allie was by this; secretly she had hoped...well, that maybe.. When she explained to the other addicts how she had managed to record DP plans, Patt had taken the cassettes to Nunkies for her but nothing was said about them until Allie screwed up the courage to ask a few days later, and then Patt had said: "Well, Nunkies feels that the Dark Perk leaders must have already had their battle plans in place. The two who picked you up were very young, after all. But you never know," she added trying to lift Allie's spirits. "He was pleased that you were sneaky enough to betray people who had done you the favour of giving you a drive when you were stranded!" "Oh?" Allie grinned. "What did he say??" Patt's face fell as she was caught out. "Well, nothing actually, but I know how he thinks, and I'm sure that would please him." "Oh," Allie had said. "Thanks." "War is like that," Bons had put in sympathetically. "Unpredictable." "I know," Allie sighed. "But I made such a big thing about having top secret information when I arrived. I don't want everyone to think I'm full of hot air." She froze as she realized what she had said, to Bons of all people! Her mortification was easy to see. "That's okay," Bons reassured her, but as she turned away she moved her hair to cover her air plug. Now she sighed, sorting through the reports for some sign that even one of Jenny or Miranda's plans were being put into action. It would be nice to be vindicated. Suddenly a rat raced past the keyboard, tickling her wrist with its fur. Allie let out an involuntary shriek. She was not afraid of rats, but this one had startled her! She was about to be startled even more. Behind her the unexpected voice of Lacroix bellowed: "DO SOMETHING ABOUT THOSE RATS!!!" Allie jumped, which made it easy to her to pull her feet under her and turn to face him in a standing position. "Yes sir!" she stammered, eyes wide with fear, and then she raced out of the room. Her heart was still pounding when she reached her car, but her mind was racing even faster. The first words Nunkies had ever said to her and they had to be: "Do something about those rats!" Allie had no idea what to do. Rat traps? Cats? Poison? The truth was she was soft-hearted and didn't like the idea of harming even vermin. 'Did he really mean it?' she wondered. 'Was he really giving her an order to solve the rat problem in the shrine? Or did he just blow his top because he was angry about being mortal, and in the midst or renovations (which was even worse!)' Allie decided she couldn't take the chance of disobeying him. She had already gotten off to a bad start in this war, getting drunk and making a fool of herself at the Ravens party (although Tiff had nicely pretended that Allie did that on purpose to divert attention while she stole the tapestry.) She remembered Janette's reaction to her attempt to strip. Janette was Nunkies' daughter; she was likely to repeat the entire story to him, if she hadn't already. Allie returned to the shrine with three solutions to the rat problem: a humane trap, a killing trap, and a cat. She would scientifically discover which was most effective and if anyone had a problem with it, they'd have to take it up with Nunkies. Within an hour all three methods had some success. The killing trap finished three rats, the cat caught four, and she found one pacing rat in the humane trap. Allie lifted the trap, intending to take the rat for a drive and set it free, but then a high pitched voice spoke. "Please! Don't kill me! I can help you! I swear it!" Allie almost dropped the cage. She stared at the rat incredulously, and then whipped her head around, looking for the practical-joking Addict. There was no one there. "Just let me out and I'll tell you anything you want to know!" the rat seemed to squeak. "Tiff!!" Allie yelled in outrage. "Did you use that bloody powder on me??!" End of Part 1 of 2. _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:11:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GpWK-0005CL-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:07:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3146; Tue, 17 Aug 99 16:05:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7041; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:05:28 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:06:17 EDT Reply-To: WarVaq@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Rae Plachecki Subject: WAR: VAQ: The Truth about Butlers and Camels (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d5d5701918392b6dd99a2e074a3801d1 Written by Tracy Sue, Vaqmommy Posted by Rae War: Vaqs The truth about butlers and camels (1/1) Time: Tuesday the 17th By: TracySue, Vaqmommy Extraordinaire! The Shrine of the Nunkies Anonymous was not everything that they had hoped for. Tracy Sue was seriously thinking of taking up smoking. If she was going to be this stressed, she should have some kind of vice to blame it on. The Fanfic Fairies were unionized. That was bad. Toronto Tax Collectors had an office in the building. They thought that it was their building, and that the Vaqueros were cleaning staff. Bad again. Un-vamped Construction workers were making changes right and left. Bad some more. Although she could get used to seeing those hard bodies on a nightly basis. There were more !@#$%^& Camels in the stables out back. But what was the absolute last straw was that the Addicts had left Louis Cabon Behind. Louis Cabon. Stuffy Matre'de of the Jeweled Peach. And Tracy Sue didn't have the heart to tell him that they didn't need a Matre'de for the new establishment that they were setting up. As if thought of the butler had conjured him, Cabon appeared at Tracy Sue's elbow. Sighing, she realized that the best way to deal with the problem, was outright. "Cabon, there are going to be some changes around here." Tracy Sue said "Non! Eye run a tight sheep. Zere is nut room for change!" There was another reason to take up smoking. She could blow smoke rings in his face. A wicked idea came over the Vaquera. "Spanish!" "Pardon Moi?" Cabon asked. "If you want to keep your job, you're going to have to use a Spanish accent." "Eye am Frensh. Eye Cannut use a Spanishe accent in ze Jewelled Peash." "It's not the Jewelled Peach anymore." Tracy Sue said cruelly. She turned, looking around for emphasis. All around them, Vaqueros were making plans for redecorating the Shrine. It helped that the shrine was already partially renovated to beginning with. "We're calling it Spanish Lily's. It's going to be a latin establishment." "Surely,You arrre nut zhoking?" Tracy Sue smiled evilly. "Hablas Espanol, Little man." With a tight smile borne of years of servitude for paychecks, Cabon nodded. "Si, Seniorita." Somehow the words sounded constipated coming from his mouth. Tracy Sue smiled. Having a toady to kick around was fun. Things were looking up. Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Why? Because I'm a sucker for Vachon! From - Tue Aug 17 19:11:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gpfn-0002G2-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:17:32 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1401; Tue, 17 Aug 99 16:15:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8218; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:15:05 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 13:10:36 -0500 Reply-To: Padawan Caeryn Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Padawan Caeryn Subject: WAR: DP: Better Living Through Chemistry (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 24537f575adc3b73f5fa8b458c5f670c Better Living Through Chemistry 1/2 by Caeryn Myer date: Tuesday, 17th August 1999 time: late morning, early afternoon place: DP Mansion All characters used with permission, except Burp, who was unavailable for comment. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "So what exactly *are* you doing?" Scepticism filled Caeryn's tone as she eyed the small round petri dishes suspiciously. Biology had never been her forte; she was much better with Geology or even Chemistry. She watched as her pink clad cohort, Cat, meticulously scooped out a small portion of some unidentifiable substance with a small metal spatula from a rather beat up looking petri dish, then carefully transferred it to a new home. The scowl on Cat's face was enough to make the DP Padawan bite back her grin. Cat had been unknowingly been visited by the airline fubar fairies en route to Toronto and as a result, her baggage had inevitably been stacked at the bottom of the pile. The results of that little physics lesson lay before them, mutely attested to by about two dozen cracked or squished petri dishes. Cat was desperately trying to salvage some of the samples by transferring them to new petri dishes. Cat didn't even look up at Caeryn's question. "I already told you...." Caeryn raised her hand to cut off the impending stream of tech babble. "Geek speak, Cat. I don't speak biologease." Cat raised an eyebrow in amusement but kept her head down. Trying to scoop up a portion of some weird looking green stuff that reminded Caeryn strongly of split pea soup, the Biologist frowned as she fished out slivers of broken plastic from the specimen. Half muttering, she asked "I thought you were a science major?" "Geology, Cat. On a good day Chemistry and a bit of Physics, but not a clue with Bio. I wouldn't expect you to know what Pre-Cambrian schist is so don't expect me to be familiar with the finer points of cellular mayosis." "Mitosis," Cat corrected without looking up. Caeryn stuck her tongue out at her pink lab coated cohort. Cat worked on oblivious. Never one to stand idle for more than a few nanoseconds, Caeryn turned to wander through the lab. Everywhere were the signs of neglect. Wide windows designed to allow plenty of light for experimentation were coated in grime. Tabletops that had once been black were coated in a fine layer of dust. Sets of experiment apparatus were partially assembled on some tables and everywhere were jars of chemicals...some well labelled, others bearing no marks at all. One such table caught Caeryn's wandering attention. A diagram of some sort had half fallen from the wall to blanket some sort of half done experiment. The visible portion of the diagram caught the Dark Perk's immediate attention, it's familiarity calling out to the depths of her strongly anti-morning soul. Carefully stepping around and over some remnants of broken furniture she slipped the corner of the poster out from behind what appeared to be a distillation set up. Turning to hold it up to the dirt filtered light seeping in from one of the windows, she was unable to stop the grin that spread over her face. The sight of the familiar, although somewhat altered, pattern filled her with a warm glow. It was an example of geometric perfection, a true testament to the splendour of creation. Even the barely legible notes scrawled around the edges could not detract from the sheer perfection of the thing. Almost crooning, she called, "ohhhh, Caaaa-aaaat...." Finishing her last transfer, Cat blew a whisp of hair out of her face and looked up at her foolishly grinning compatriot. The grin on Caeryn's face worried cat. She had last seen it when the DP Padawan was regarding a picture of one of her favorite obsessions decked out in his costume from the most highly anticipated hit summer movie...it was a goofy grin that signaled louder than words that Caeryn would be useless for the ensuing couple of hours. Well, Cat was up for a little diversion now that all the samples she felt she could save were newly lodged in fresh experiment dishes. Walking over to the other girl, she peeked over her shoulder and an appreciative smile lit her eyes. "Oh my...." Cat's fascination was briefly marred by a few unfamiliar lines. "It doesn't look quite like the one in Eric's room..." Caeryn shook her head, then looked around for a flat surface to lay the diagram down on. She pushed aside several unmarked jars with powders of varying colors in them and spread the picture out on the lab table. A ray of light swirled in the dust filled air to fall fully upon the beauty before them. Turning her head slightly Caeryn regarded the lewis structure with a thoughtful expression. This was much more like it. Chemistry she could handle. She traced the lines between adjoining sections, deciphering the symbols and terminology with a comfort simmilar to putting on her favorite headless bunny slippers. "It looks like they tried to strengthen the bonds..." Cat nodded, although her confused expression spoke volumes. "It has to do with purity and molecule structure...," Caeryn explained patiently. "I'll take your word for it. So what would this version do?" "Same as the normal stuff, just probably take effect faster and last longer." "Ohhh, I like that idea. How much longer?" "Not sure....hey, Burp, get outta the way...," Caeryn muttered under her breath as she shoved the suddenly appearing pink demon to one side. Burp cocked his head to one side and looked from one DP to the other then at the funny picture on the paper in front of him. He failed to see the importance, and yet they were regarding it with such intensity he half expected to see smoke coming out of their ears. One of them, her auburn hair in a pony tail except for a few strands caught in a slender braid that lay across her right shoulder, reached over to the abandoned experiment and picked up metal jar filled with something that rather strongly resembled dirt. Oh well, half the time he didn't think even the Dark Perks themselves knew why they were...the way they were. A dusty beam of sunlight caught his attention as it fell on one of the jars, reflecting of shining specks in the blue powder within. Burp oohhhed in appreciation and went over to examine the closed jar at the other end of the table. In the silence of their study, Caeryn and Cat could hardly fail to hear the unmistakable pop of an air seal being released. Their heads snapped up to look at each other, and then swivelled in unison to regard the source of the noise. They were just in time to see Burp stick his pink head in the jar with the sparkling blue powder. "Burp..." "No!!!!!" They yelled in chorus. Sucking in his breath, wondering what they were on about now, Burp inadvertently inhaled a good sized amount of the stuff. The two DP's froze as his pink little body contorted briefly before in something like a sneezing convulsion. They weren't terribly worried...pink demons were indestructible...or at least so they thought until the little guy began to turn purple and started jumping around. "Grab him!" Caeryn made a wild dive for the hopping demon...at the exact moment Cat did likewise. They came together with a terrific crash, both missing the demon and landing on the ancient lab table that promptly collapsed under their weight. "Ow!" "Doh!" "Splinter, splinter...." The two DPs pulled themselves up and looked around immediately for Burp. He stood off to one side, the jar of blue stuff held protectively against his small body, his vacant eyes wide in amazement...or possibly amusement. Cat managed to get to her knees and started to creep toward the little guy cooing encouragingly. Burp obviously wanted no part of it, and promptly dashed for the door. "Aghhhhh! He's getting away!" Caeryn scrambled to her feet a few seconds behind Cat. "It's not like it will hurt him." "Yah, but he has the rest of that stuff with him...what's he gonna do with it?" Both of them cringed, well aware that when demons lost interest they tended to drop things wherever they were...it was entirely possible for the stuff to end up in the air conditioning system. "What was in that one?" "How should I know...there wasn't a label or anything..." "Oh man...this is not good." "I think we'd better go find him." Caeryn and Cat left the lab, being careful to close and secure the door behind them. "Think it's best to start from the ground and work our way up." "Good plan." This was going to be a long day.... As they trudged down the stairs Caeryn didn't realise she was still holding the jar with the brown subject of their earlier scrutiny. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End Part 1/2 ||::;;::||===============> Caeryn, the DP Padawan From - Tue Aug 17 19:11:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gpop-0006An-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:26:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3296; Tue, 17 Aug 99 16:18:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9230; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:18:59 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 15:01:56 -0500 Reply-To: dornhoff@prairienet.org Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Janet Dornhoff, DVM" Subject: WAR: All pets in this war please respond!!! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ef555e8b3d6af9ded4c2997d4c2a6f8e The FK Warlocks have given permission for a sort of mini-faction to coordinate all the storylines that involve pets and other animal participants. Several people want to do posts involving pets from multiple factions, so we need to keep track of where the little furries are and what they're up to (at least that's relevant to the war ;-). Everybody who has brought along pets to this war, I'd really appreciate it if you could send me a little description of them, and a list of any plot lines they're already scheduled for. This includes dogs, ferrets, birds, turtles, and whatever else is crawling or flying around your various headquarters. Please send replies to my e-mail addy, , and not to the FKFIC-L list. I am also looking for a co-coordinator for next week during my aunt's wedding, when I'll be off-line; applications are welcome and greatly appreciated. Thanks a lot! -Janet Dornhoff DVM, FoSsiL Co-ordinator Dogs come when you call. Cats have answering machines. From - Tue Aug 17 19:11:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GqHz-0001mI-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:57:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1703; Tue, 17 Aug 99 16:54:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2941; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:54:48 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 14:59:53 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP: Pink on the Pavement! (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a01ebd346b2034440c56540762c869c4 WAR: DP: Pink on the Pavement! (1/1) Place: The Mean Streets of Toronto Time: Tuesday the 17th, morning 'til afternoon By: Cousin Mary "I don't see why they won't give us anymore lessons!" Blue hared and newly tattooed teen terror, SNB ranted as she walked with fellow underage Thugs, Miranda, Andrea, John-Travis and Jennies #2&3. Miranda giggled, "Maybe because we almost totaled the Pinkmobile?" "And nearly ran down Tracy?" Jenny #2 added. Despite getting lessons from both Laura and Anne (the latter specializing in parallel parking) none of the teens seemed any closer to getting their licenses... though they deserved them! The six pedestrian Thugs continued to stalk around Toronto, stopping here and there for ice cream and coffees, but generally just complaining about the fact that they had to -walk- anywhere. "Wait a second!" John-Travis held out his arms, halting the entourage of grumbling girls. "Look!" They all craned their necks and took in the awe inspiring sight of the sea foam Caddy glinting in the early morning sun. "Ooo," Andrea sighed happily, almost floating to the unguarded auto. "Just look at it!" "Ya know," Jenny #3 grinned hugely, "We could drive this baby no problem!" Miranda nodded, they had been taught on the DP's own pink Caddy, therefore it followed that they should be able to drive this one. "Makes sense to me." And with that, she leapt over the door and into the seat. All the other DP Thugs looked at each other, then quickly piled in themselves. "Shotgun!" "No! Me!" "Hey, get your foot off my face-" "Andreaaaa!" When all was said and done, Miranda somehow found herself in the back seat, with Jenny #2 and SNB. While John-Travis, Andrea and Jenny#3 claimed the front, Jenny#3 behind the wheel. "Okay, how do I start this thing?" The would-be driver asked. "You do realize this is -very- illegal?" SNB pointed out. "Joy-riding is only a misdemeanor," John-Travis shot her an impish smile, "Besides, Nick won't press charges." "Good point," SNB smiled back, then leaned over the seat and quickly hot-wired the Caddy. "Wow!" Miranda gasped, "You're good at that!" "Nothing to it," SNB slid back into her seat as the engine roared to life. "Kay," Jenny#3 took of the break and put the Caddy into gear, "So where to?" The teens all looked at each other, then in unison said, "Buckstars!" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>An Hour Later<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< "I am -so- sorry," Jenny#3 repeated as she walked shakily up the embankment. "It's okay," Jenny#2 patted her arm comfortingly. They'd just been driving the Caddy back to it's rightful owners when the rabbit had come out of no where, Jenny#3 had swerved to miss it, her hot coffee spilling in her lap, which caused her to yank the wheel even more. "It's not that bad," John-Travis assured them, trying to reshape his hat whilst climbing up at the same time. "We'll just call the auto club and-" "We can't do that!" Andrea yelped, "It's a stolen car!" "We didn't steal it!" Miranda insisted, "We were just borrowing..." She trailed off as her friends all looked at her, no, no one was going to believe that, even if it were the truth. "All right, listen, here's what we'll do," SNB took charge, "We find a body shop, someone quick and discrete, we get them to fix up the Caddy and return it before anyone is the wiser. Agreed?" When everyone nodded, she pulled out her cell phone, "Kay, what's a shady body shop?" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Four Hours Later<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< "What's taking so long?" John-Travis paced up and down the waiting room. They'd been in the small smoky shop for what seemed like forever, "We have to get the car back before 6! They're sure to notice after that!" Everyone nodded, though no one was quite sure on how they'd come up with the magic number of 6 PM, they all felt it was vital to get the car back before then. Not to mention that the elder Thugs would no doubt start wondering where they were if they didn't at least check in soon. (During wartime you can't be too careful.) Andrea flipped through an out of date car magazine and took a sip of her Jolt cola, "Why aren't they done yet? It wasn't that bad!" The teens all looked at each other with determined faces, silently agreeing to give the mechanics at Juan Valdez's Caddy Body Shop Emporium (yes they'd picked the place on the similarity to the coffee, why do you ask? *eDPg*)10 more minutes before storming the place. Just then, Juan Valdez the 3rd stepped into the waiting room and grinned at them. "We have it all done folks, that'll be 500 dollars." The teens panicked for a second, before SNB pulled out a credit card, "Here ya go." "Excellent," Juan paused to look at the card, "Ms. Vetter." As he left to run the card, the other DPs surrounded SNB like a cloud of locusts. "Are you nuts?" "Tracy'll kill you!" "Heck, -Mary- will kill you! We still haven't paid off the card debts from -last- war!" "I know that!" SNB snapped, pushing blue bangs out of her eyes, "That's why it'll work, they won't even notice the extra debt." "Yeah right they won't," John-Travis snorted. SNB was just about to comment back, when Juan returned, handed her back the card and pointed them towards the working part of the establishment. "Garage 7B." The teens thanked him and started walking the way he indicated. It was almost a quarter to six now, they'd have to hurry. "Gee!" Jenny#2 started wide-eyed at all the cars as the passed, "I didn't even realize there were this many Caddies in all Toronto!" "No kidding!" Andrea agreed, "Hey, what garage are we at?" "Um, dunno," Miranda shrugged, "I don't see any numbers." "Well this is certainly the wrong one," Jenny#3 pointed at the newer, smaller blue Caddy before them, "Let's keep going." Soon enough they came across their Caddy, sea foam green, right year, convertible, perfect. Perfect except one thing. "Oh god!" "Please tell me I'm seeing things!" "They didn't!" "NO!!!" "Uh," John-Travis walked to the newly lowered Caddy, slipping behind the wheel, "Well, look on the bright side." "There's a bright side?" Andrea asked as she and the other girls piled in and the mechanics waved them to drive out. "At least Nick's mortal now," John-Travis grinned, driving the large boat-like Caddy out into the sun, "So there's no way he can drain us!" "He could still shoot us," Miranda pointed out. "Details, details." SNB sighed. She looked out at the passing scenery as John-Travis drove the car back to the loft. Several minutes into the ride, she leaned forward and yelled, "Hey! Someone turn on the radio!" (It's physically impossible for a teenager to ride in a car without asking for the radio to be turned on.) Andrea leaned forward and flipped it on just as John-Travis was stopping at a light. "Ack!" "What the-?!" "Holy cow!" "Hydraulics!" Andrea quickly slapped off the radio and the car stopped bouncing. She looked around at all the other white as sheet DPs. "What are we going to do?" They sat there awhile, and when the light changed, John-Travis just finished driving them to the loft. When the arrived, they simply got out of the lowered Caddy and started walking slowly away. Then they started running. And they ran all the way back to DP Mansion. Then, they hid under their beds. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cousin Mary ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Tue Aug 17 19:11:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GqxC-0005XX-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 17:39:34 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0190; Tue, 17 Aug 99 17:34:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7794; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 17:34:46 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:35:58 -0500 Reply-To: Ann Bridges Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Ann Bridges Subject: War: Harem: So Much To Do! (1/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 008479e0a3c8fc088ce0c59f7942f8f7 Title: War: Harem: So Much To Do! (1/?) By: Amethyst Wife #2 & 2nd in command of the Harem Betaed by: Randora (Thanks!!) Time: starts around 11 AM Friday the 13th After: Friday the 13th, what other day could it be? (2/?) Before: It's a Battle to the Death! Note: All staff mentioned are not real people, nor are they based on real people, therefore no permission slip is needed for them. Also, none of the staff are cross-over characters. 11:01AM Amethyst stood in the office after Randora had all but flown out, to pick up the wives that were arriving at the airport. Cinder,an Australian Cattle Dog & the youngest of the FK dogs, stood in the doorway looking around, "Cinder don't you go anywhere." * I don't know if all the doors are shut and heaven forbid you get out and see something like a squirrel! * "Where did Randora say my office was again?? Oh, I remember!" she said walking out of the door, trailed by all four of the dogs. They headed across the lobby to a beautifully carved door, well it was filthy but once it was clean it would be exquisite! She tried the knob, locked . . . looking around she saw the cabinet that held the keys to all the rooms behind the registration desk. "Wait," she told the dogs as she headed for the keys, "please let my office key be there!" She found the door that accessed the desk area. After a few moments of searching she found a key ring that held the keys to the offices, kitchen, ballroom, etc. " Bingo!" Amethyst came back to her office door, fumbled with the keys for a few moments, "It *would* be one of the last keys on the ring!" she muttered, as the lock clicked and the door swung open. The room was empty except for a large desk against the wall to the right of the door. "Well at least I don't have to buy a desk!" The dogs began to explore the room, Harlee slipped under the desk and began sneezing. "I've told you about sniffing everything so much. I guess I'd better get to cleaning. " 1 PM "There, except for the paper you're shredding, Grey, I'm done!" Amethyst was standing in the door looking her lovely shiny marble floors when she heard a vehicle drive up. Grey Cloud,the malamute/Wolf hybrid, turned his attention from the paper he was shredding towards the door. Amethyst quickly pulled the door shut, and she promptly heard a loud thump. Grey had begun jumping against the door. "Is this Harem Headquarters?" a wonderfully sexy voice asked. "Yes, whooooo . . .," Amethyst turned, but couldn't seem to get words out once she saw him, *Very NICE,* she thought. We all know there are no crossovers in wars but this guy REALLY looked like Jarod from that TV show, The Pretender. "My name is Rick, I was hired to work the front desk." Amethyst was rarely at a loss for words, but all she could manage was a rather shaky, "Good." Rick stood there looking around "Do you want me . . ." "Yes," Amethyst realized he hadn't finished his sentence, she turned the brightest red.., "Sorry, continue." " . . . to start now?" he finished with a grin. "Still yes." Turning he made his way to the registration desk. "I'll just get you the main set of keys, they are in my office," Amethyst said opening the door. In her distracted state she had forgotten the dogs weren't crated. As the door opened, four canine noses stuffed themselves into the crack and snatched the door out of her hand. "Dogs, NO!!!" but they had all heard a stranger in their home! Steele, the Catahoula Leopard Dog, was in the lead his feet slipping slightly on the marble floors, Harlee & Cinder , the Cattle Dogs, over took him as they reached the door. Grey was really having trouble running on the marble floors, but he wasn't far behind. "No . . . stop . . . LOOK OUT RICK!!" But it was too late! The four of them skidded around the last corner, upon seeing Rick, they leaped. Rick, while he was no weakling, couldn't stay on his feet with 4 dogs pouncing on him at once. He slammed into the cabinet full of keys, which (of course) fell to the floor. Rick lay on his back with Harlee and Cinder licking his face, Steele stood there barking, Grey held his shoe firmly in his mouth. Amethyst rounded the corner, "Off, leave it!" The dogs all backed off, "I'm SO sorry." "Good thing I like dogs I guess?" Rick said picking himself up off the floor. "Let me help you," she offered reaching her hand out. Rick took her hand as he got up. "Thanks." "Well I better go put the monsters in my suite. Come on, Guys!" Amethyst headed up the stairs to the third floor. Since she was wife # 2, that was also her suite number. She unlocked the door and waited as the dogs rushed into the room. She had gotten the dog's stuff set up last night, so they all rushed to their crates, Amethyst gave them each a treat as she shut the doors. *I'd better get down there and get help get the keys picked up!* Amethyst grabbed her laptop as she headed out the door and down the stairs. 1:30 PM Amethyst dropped her laptop off in her office then headed to the front desk. She leaned over the counter, "How's it going?" Rick looked up, "You do know there are no room numbers on the keys, right?" "WHAT!?" "I guess they just kept them in the corresponding cubby hole." "Great, if it's not one thing it's another! I'll come back there and help you pick them up." ---------------------------------------------------- Ann and the Crazy Crew Steele, Harlee and Cinder knightie@sat.net My ICQ# is 20298309 or, * Page me online through my Personal Communication Center: http://wwp.mirabilis.com/20298309 (go there and try it!) or, * Send me E-mail Express directly to my computer screen 20298309@pager.mirabilis.com ---------------------------------------------------- From - Tue Aug 17 19:11:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gqy0-0001gE-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 17:40:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2063; Tue, 17 Aug 99 17:38:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8043; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 17:38:14 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 14:48:01 -0500 Reply-To: Susan Nix Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Nix Subject: WAR: NA: KC Saves the Day (Again) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a342ee42d4d4c9330fc488d9250e460e NA: KC Saves the Day (Again) by KC Susan Nix, Goddess and future World Dictator Kevin and Buff Slave boys used with permission Time: After the switch and before any addicts move into the Church Place: The streets outside the Church KC smirked at her own brainpower as she marched an the army of Buff Slave Boys that were worshipping her at Madame Kiki's a few days ago down the street towards the damaged Church. Though how Bons could tell it was damaged when she saw the Church and reported it to KC was beyond the blonde addict's reckoning. Bons had told KC about Tracy Sue and her thugs' feeble plan to sully the addicts' stay at the Church with petty acts of vandalism, but it worried KC not a bit. She knew exactly what to do. She rounded up the Buff Slave Boys, gotten a heinderload of fine Snixco cleaning products and repair supplies (available in the catalogue), and headed determinedly toward the Church. They arrived at the Church to find it blissfully deserted of Spaniard Slaves, and unfolded the lawn chair she was carrying. She pointed to the damage done, and said in an impressively authoritarian tone. "Get to work! And when you're finished, I want it exactly the way it was when those craven fools left this hovel!" The Buff Slave Boys, because the worship the Evil One so, snapped into action. KC watched their progress lazily from her lawn chair, snacking on some homemade cookies her mom had sent her and taking occasional sips from her bottle of Jolt. (you didn't think any of the addicts would actually have to clean it up did you, silly person?) A short time later, the Church was in the exact condition it was before the Vaq brats had ever even thought of damaging the place, ready for the addicts to move in. KC smiled in satisfaction as she surveyed the improvements...well, not exactly improvements, it wasn't the Hilton to begin with. "Well, it's the best we can do for now," KC said, sighing and turning to Kevin. "Now, let's get these Boys back to the Shrine. We've got some moving in to do!" The End! Pthpthpthpth! > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > From - Tue Aug 17 19:11:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GrNN-0002mX-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 18:06:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0377; Tue, 17 Aug 99 18:04:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0431; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 18:04:26 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 18:04:53 EDT Reply-To: LdyofSable@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Lee Subject: War: NA: A Brick Befell Her To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 605317fcf71b53c1bd4263d382989307 Title: A Brick Befell Her Time: Close to dawn, Tues., during/after "Definitely UnStable" Place: The NA Shrine Stables By Jennifer Lee Beta'ng from Cousin Tser All real people and animals used with permission. Unreal people used without any permission from them of any kind, and treated as slaves to my every whim. ****** Jennifer/Caligula was deep in conversation with her advisor. "She'll make a good servant, don't you think? And that horse of hers is rather nice. All of those pretty spots. That doesn't mean I like him as much as you, though." She was interrupted in her musings when she heard a sharp ringing coming from the general direction of her captive. Jennifer/Caligula strode over angrily. "What is that noise, servant?" she demanded. "My cell phone, ma'am, er, sir, er, emperor...." "A *what*?" "A communications device, sends and receives messages...," Tser said, trailing off as Jennifer/Caligula gave her a stony look. The deranged addict plunged her hand into Tser's skirt pocket and pulled out the black phone. Then she threw it on the ground and stomped on it. "Enough of that," Jennifer/Caligula said. "Luke!" she called to the blond man who was oiling her Hartley saddle. "Come here." The ex-vampire did as he was told. "I want you to take this woman and show her her duties. You will not let her out of your sight. If she escapes or causes damage, it will be the worse for you. Do I make myself clear, boy?" Luke nodded, schooling his features to a respectful expression. "Very good," the deranged, not-really-god-or-emperor said as she turned to continue her conversation with Incitatus/Coup. The horse snorted softly. What in the world was wrong with his human? Smokey continued to chew on his food, glancing up at Tser occasionally with passing interest. Nope, still no food there. Luke turned to release the Cousinly Leader from her bonds. As he did, he leaned close to her ear. "Don't worry about her. I accidentally dropped a brick on her head Monday, and now she thinks she's Caligula." "Some of that I kinda figured out," Tser hissed. "Well, she's not as bad as the real one was. She makes threats, but she has yet to indulge in the real one's worst habits." "Oh, really?" Tser asked dryly. Luke shrugged. "This is a PG-13 list." "Yeah, well, that still doesn't do much to rectify this kidnapping," Tser said as she rubbed her freed wrists. "What do you expect me to do? Whammy her? I'm not a vampire anymore, you know," Luke retorted. "You were a vampire? But you look like that guy from Star-" Luke put a hand over her mouth. "Don't say it!" he hissed. "Do you want you know who to come storming down on us for copyright infringement?" "No," Tser said, "and don't touch me!!" though it came out something like, "Mmf mnd mon mmnf mm!!" Luke took his hand off of her mouth. "Good. Now, let's pretend to do something useful before Her Worship gets angry." "If you look like a certain Luke, then how come you talk like a certain co-star of his?" "Would you stop with the movie references?! I'm not either of them, okay? I just like the story!!! Geez, when I was a kid, people thought planes were science fiction!" "Hrmph, fine," Tser conceded reluctantly. "But--" Luke cut her off. "Good, now let's get going, and maybe we can find a way to get you out of here without us getting in trouble." ********* Jennifer ldyofsable@aol.com From - Tue Aug 17 19:11:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Grwo-0004Go-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 18:43:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0622; Tue, 17 Aug 99 18:40:49 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4296; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 18:40:49 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 15:53:01 -0500 Reply-To: Padawan Caeryn Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Padawan Caeryn Subject: WAR: DP: Better Living Through Chemistry (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: dd9d0fdb483d47586a60e2cb16b53b3f Better Living Through Chemistry 2/2 by Caeryn Myer date: Tuesday, 17th August 1999 time: late morning, early afternoon place: DP Mansion All characters used with permission. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Coffee. Coffee was definitely in order. Mass quantities and soon. Maya stumbled down the stairs, blinking her eyes to clear the morning fuzz. Not bothering to cover her mouth as she yawned, she stretched out her arms in a T, the muscles protesting the sudden movement. The lunch time sun shone down through the windows high above, quietly protesting the late hour of her awakening. She stopped absently to avoid stepping on one of the demons as it rushed by clutching something to it's chest. Unfazed, she continued her way to the kitchen, drawn by the unmistakable aroma of brewing caffeine. The sight that greeted her as she crossed the threshold brought her up short. Two rather dirty looking DP's were on their hands and knees pulling stuff out of cupboards. One she tentatively identified as Cat, her guess based on the bright pink shade of the lab coat she was wearing. She couldn't even hazard a guess about the other DP as she was halfway in the cupboard, obviously searching for something. Cat snorted in disgust, and started cramming stuff back in haphazardly. Anne, the Perk's unbeatable brownie master chef, could deal with it later. Right now she had to find the wandering Burp and his questionable treasure. An errant thought brought an amused smile to Maya's lips as she watched the Biologist stand up. She really was the picture of a mad scientist. She was covered in smudges of dirt and other less easily identifiable grime. Her hair was askew and her pink tinted safety goggles were pushed back on her head. Add to the ensemble the lab coat in it's stunning shade of rose and one was presented with a very lively portrait. "What happened to you?" Maya stifled another yawn and wandered over to the vast collection of coffee pots on the counter. Her blood flowed a little faster in alarm as she noted all the pots appeared to be empty. A soft sputter from one of the older brewers, however, quietly reassured her that there was at least enough left for one cup and she reached up to the nearest cabinet to grab a mug for the life sustaining substance. "You don't want to know," Cat growled. She could have sworn she'd seen Burp coming in the kitchen, but they had checked everywhere and there was no trace of him. The demons were notorious for finding hidey holes when they didn't want to be found. Cat sighed. She wasn't so much worried about the small pink goo-ball. Caeryn was right, they were virtually indestructible. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the rest of the mansions inhabitants. Cat didn't think Burp would deliberately harm anyone. But she knew they were all cursed with terminal Attention Deficit Disorder and had the nasty habit of just dropping things when they lost interest. She did *not* want unidentified stuff from Demon Doctor Jenn's lab floating around in the mansion. The older DP was infamous for her various neurotoxic concoctions. This was not a good area for experimentation. "I don't suppose you've seen Burp?" Cat really didn't expect the recently arisen Maya to have seen the little guy, but it was worth a shot. "Hmmmm?" Maya looked up from where she was lovingly cradling her coffee mug, sniffing at the aroma appreciatively. Maya frowned at the interruption, trying to recall the question. "Have - you - seen - Burp ?" Cat enunciated each word clearly, trying to penetrate Maya's pre-caffeinated brain. "I don't know if it was him...almost stepped on one of the guys as I was coming across the hall." Cat bit her lip, wondering. "No idea which one it was?" "He was clutching something pretty tight, but that's about all I saw. I'm not completely awake yet," Maya confided. Cat resisted the obvious response to that. "Where do you think he's taking it?" Maya looked over in time to see Caeryn back out of the cupboard and turn to look at Cat. "No clue." "We might have better luck if we give him time to calm down first." "Hmmm...maybe you're right...let's go clean up the lab." Caeryn sighed. Beheading dust bunnies had not been in her plans for the day, but it really ought to be done. Squaring her shoulders she stood up and followed Cat out the door. Maya watched them go with a raised eyebrow. Cat was right...she didn't want to know. Turning back to the coffee pot, she poured the last little bit into her mug and started in the direction of the door. Right as she was about to leave she narrowly avoided running straight into Wolfy Knight who was making another pilgrimage to the coffee source. Maya was just about to make good her exit when Wolfy noticed the lack of coffee in the pots. "Hey! You don't think you can have the last drop and just walk out of here like that, do you?" Maya sighed, and turned back into the kitchen, resigned to helping Wolfy refill the twenty plus coffee pots that were the central feature of the room. She headed for the nearest pot, and flipped open the filter compartment. Realising she would have to put her own cup down to do this, she reluctantly set the mug aside and picked up the filter and used coffee grinds to dump in the trash. With practised ease, she separated a filter from the stack of fresh ones and slid it into the waiting compartment of the machine. As she turned to get the vaunted DP coffee her eyes fell on a small jar sitting on the edge of the counter. Curiously, she picked it up and shook it. The stuff inside looked like coffee. Wondering why anyone would want to keep their stash in such a beat up little jar she tried unscrewing the lid, frowning slightly at how tight it was stuck on. Finally managing to free the lid, she almost dropped the container as the aroma hit her like a ton of bricks. "Whoa! Now that's what I call coffee." Wolfy came over to see, able to smell it a good five feet away even though Maya had just opened it. She sniffed appreciatively. "Oh my. Where did you get that?" "It was right here" "Hmmm, do you suppose anyone would mind if we used some of it?" "Well, if they do they shouldn't have left it in the kitchen." The two girls grinned at one another. "It's pretty strong," Wolfy warned. "So we mix it with regular coffee." "Sounds like a plan to me." ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 30 Minutes Later Anne came wandering through the hall, taking a break from the library and the ever-present pine cleaner. On a whim, she headed in the general direction of the kitchen to see if any of her brownies were left. The strong smell of good coffee permeated the air, increasing in strength as she moved closer to the kitchen. The Perk smiled, inhaling the aroma. She could almost feel the little molecules of caffeine seeping into her system. Picking up her step she moved a little faster. That smelled like some very good coffee. On her arrival she was greeted by the sight of Wolfy and Maya sitting at the kitchen table doing shots of what appeared to be coffee. There movements were decidedly jerky and their eyes were bright and wide. "Wha.....?" "Ohmigosh...Anne!!!" Wolfy jumped to her feet and ran over to Anne, grabbing her by the arm and proceeding to drag her into the kitchen further. The tall brunette winced as the circulation to her right arm was cut of in the death grip. "Ohmigosh, ohmigosh...thisissuchgreatstuff! YagottatrysomeAnneAnne" The older DP watched in something bordering on alarm as Maya gulped another cup of coffee, then proceeded to wash it down with a pixie stick. These too were obviously wired. They were moving about a mile a nanosecond and it was all she could do to try and keep herself from being ripped apart by the attentive Wolfy. "It's a bit early for that kind of thing, don't you think?" Anne nodded her head toward the pile of empty pixie sticks on the table. "Nevernevernevertooearlyforcoffeeandsugar." Maya's eyes were bright as she jumped up to get more coffee, sending her chair skidding backwards. Wolfy shoved a cup of the overpowering stuff into Anne's hand, then ripped off the end of a pixie stick savagely and dumped the contents into Anne's coffee cup before turning around and draining her own cup without stopping for breath. Trying to calm the two down, Anne turned to Maya. "You aren't dressed yet?" Stopping mid step on her way for more coffee, Maya threw her arms wide and looked down at her pyjamas, then just as quickly back up at Anne. "I'llgodothatrightnow, berightback...savesomecoffeeforme....yahyah? Anneanne, yougonnamakesomebrownies? We'realloutcauseIjustatethelasttenrightnow..." Maya departed for her room with a hysterical laugh, and from the sound of her steps took the stairs four at a time. Anne looked at Wolfy warily out of the corner of her eye, almost expecting to be force-fed the cup of coffee in her hand, but Wolfy had lost interest and was running around the kitchen pulling stuff out of cupboards and practically throwing it on the centre table. The poor table shook violently, the wood creaking in mournful protest under the unexpected burden. Anne realised Wolfy was pulling out the ingredients for more brownies. Carefully tipping the cup of coffee in her hand down the drain...she really didn't care for the idea of grape pixie stick flavoured caffeine...she set aside the empty cup and started to clean up so she would have room to make the brownies. Anne had never seen the girls quite so hyper. Then again, it was no real shock given that they had probably polished off about two pans of brownies, a couple pots of coffee, and about a case of pixie sticks. She certainly didn't envy them the stomach aches they were going to have later. Realising that even the aroma of the wonderful coffee was giving her a caffeine buzz, Anne prudently opened the windows and decided to forgo drinking any. She would use it in the brownies instead. Just the thing for those late night writing sessions. Thinking frantically above the din of noise Wolfy was making in the background Anne tried to figure out a way to get her out of the kitchen. Inspiration struck in the form of a dirty pink Harley being driven up the drive and into the garage. "Wolfy?" Wolfy spun around, the flour bag in her hands ripping open as she jerked it, sending flour out in an arc to filter silently to the kitchen floor. "clumsyme...oopssorry...lemmegetabroomandcleanthisup..." "That's okay, Wolfy," Anne thought she had heard something about a broom. "It's gorgeous outside today so why don't you go clean the Harleys instead" "Excellentidea, AnneAnne. Savemesomeofthosebrownies, kay?" With that Wolfy ran out the door into the hall and then slammed out the front door. Heading for the broom closet, Anne prayed that Mrs. Hitchcock would not come to investigate the source of the disturbance. Humming softly to herself, glad to be left alone, Anne swept up the flour and mentally calculated how many pans of brownies to make. Ten...no, make that Twenty ought to last a couple of days at least. Maybe she should stash a couple pans somewhere so they would last longer... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Meanwhile, Upstairs... "Well, I think that's the last of the broken glass." Caeryn tucked a stray whisp of hair behind her shoulders. Cat looked around then nodded. "You think Burp's cooled down by now?" "Don't know, but the longer we put off looking for him the better hiding place he can find." The DP Padawan sighed. So much for taking it easy today. Cat shook her head as the other girl went to pick up the double layered trash bag holding the broken glassware. "Just leave it. We aren't done in here anyway." Caeryn shrugged. "Fine. Let's go find our pink nemesis." Moving to the door and holding it open for Cat, she pulled the wooden panel shut behind them and turned the key in the lock. An errant thought tugged at the back of her brain and she paused. "Hey Cat...where did I put that thing of coffee with the super concentrated caffeine in it...like in the diagram?" "It's in the lab. You can get it later. We really should find Burp and get that blue stuff back." Cat was already to the stairs and on her way down. Caeryn brushed aside the nagging doubt and hurried after her. "Easier said than done, no doubt." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End Part 2/2 ||::;;::||================> Caeryn, the DP Padawan www.jeditemple.org From - Tue Aug 17 19:11:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GsDM-0004yd-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:00:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4463; Tue, 17 Aug 99 18:58:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6019; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 18:58:13 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 16:00:02 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: War: Nothers: Strangers Have Happened (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c7ed4a92dd57a7442be8b580a40d2109 All real people (me) are used by permission. Daf is the property of the Nothers, and Azar is mine. :-) Strangers Have Happened by NightDancer Chateau des Autres Tuesday Morning 6AM EST NightDancer had woken up every morning since the war started with her head in the lap of the Nothers' stableboy, Daf. (Which was particularly nice since he bore a strong resemblance to her favorite unaging nineteen-year-old from another fandom.) The morning after the Chateau opening was no different. "Dancer," Daf whispered. "Mmmm?" she mumbled sleepily. "I have to go feed the horses now, all right?" He gently lifted her head off his lap and slid a sofa cushion under it instead. "Mmm...don't go," she protested, still drowsy. "Why don't you come with me?" he teased. "You can help muck out the stalls." Instead, she snuggled deeper into the pillow. "'N second thought... have fun." Grinning, Daf bent to give her a light kiss on the cheek, then disappeared through the myriad of corridors towards the castle grounds. Dancer, meanwhile, slipped back into her dreams and within minutes she was being kissed on the back of the hand by actor Chris Owens... 1:00 PM EST Several hours later, she sat up yawning. For a moment, she was disoriented, then memories of the previous night and this morning came flooding back to her. She smiled impishly, wondering if Tracy Sue was still with them or if she'd headed back to the Vaqs. Stumbling sleepily off the sofa in the foyer where she'd spent the night, she wandered upstairs to her suite to get dressed. Coming around the corner, she almost ran head on into a young hispanic woman. "Where'd you come from?" Dancer exclaimed, startled. She looked closer. "Wait a sec--who are you? Were you at the party last night or something?" The woman began to babble rapidly in Spanish, her voice rising in panic. "Whoah! Whoah! Mas despacio por favor--no puedo escucharte tan rapido!" the billingual Nother tried to calm her down. She was fluent in Spanish, but sometimes she had trouble keeping track when native speakers got going *really* fast. The woman stared at her, dumbfounded at hearing her own language. "Oh, I sorry," she apologized in broken English. "Last night, I am eating dinner with mio familia and all of sudden I am in este castillo. Where is here?" "You're in the Chateau des Autres," Dancer explained calmly, her mind spinning. "Como te llamas?" she asked. "Azar Gutierrez." She grabbed the ther woman's hand. "Okay, Azar. We're going to see my friend Fleurette. Hopefully, between the two of us and Harry, we can get you home!" END *Azar is spanish for "chance." It's been my observation that fictional people with that name tend to get in trouble very easily--it follows them. ;-) _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 17 20:01:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gsd4-00067e-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:26:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2774; Tue, 17 Aug 99 19:24:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8488; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:24:06 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:04:31 EDT Reply-To: LdyofSable@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Lee Subject: War: NA: Cal's Palace To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 92b3b7590f57a822503bf611e35c09d1 Title: Cal's Palace Place: The Sacred Stables of NA Time: Midday, Tuesday (after "A Brick Befell Her") Permission gotten and stuff. * * * * Luke led Cousin Tserisa down to the end of the Stables, and handed her a bucket and a warm soapy rag. "Start scrubbing," he said. "The floor," Tser said slowly, "of this stable is *concrete*." Luke shot her a warning glance and motioned to Jennifer-who-would-be-emperor at the other end of the stables. Tserisa sighed, folded her skirt neatly and began to scrub the concrete floor of mud, straw, hay, bits of grain and various horse... leavings. "What is this," she grumbled. "Star Floors?" "Well, excuse me Princess --" "Don't call me that," Cousin Tserisa interupted Luke with a growl and stared at him with a true Cousinly glare. "... if the work's not up to your *glamorous* tastes." Tser paused for a moment, then laughed. "Glamorous? That's not what I meant! I own a horse and a donkey and over thirty various messy animals. I used to clean out *hippo* pools and shovel grizzly bear scat for Great Dragon's sake. I was once told I could shovel shhh-- dung with the best of them. What I'm referring to is the fact we're scrubbing a *concrete floor* with warm soapy rags, in a horse stable. Shouldn't we be doing something more sensible like mucking stalls?" "Right now," Luke said, "we do what SHE wants. And this, currently, is her palace." "I don't mind sleeping in barns, but I do mind pretending they're some crazed emperor's abode." "Quit yapping and keep scrubbing," Luke said. "I want the old Jennifer back," Tser said wistfully as she looked at her once-white-now-nearly-black rag. "First let's get you out of here, then we'll figure out what to do about Ms. God-Emperor." "Of Doom?" Tser said much to Luke's chagrin. He was getting tired of her references. Tser paused a moment. "Waydaminit... why're you so intent on helping me?" "Well, this is all my fault... if I hadn't dropped that brick then --" Tser's eyes widened and she let out an unhappy cry. "No, not angst, anything but angst!" "What is going on over there?" Jen/Caligula fairly screamed. Tser quieted and went back to scrubbing. She let the left sleeve of what was obviously a fairly expensive black blouse become as sodden as the rag, though she kept the other sleeve out of harm's reach. "You know, Luke, for not indulging in the real one's worst habits -- and believe me, I'm thankful for that -- being tied up in ropes sure hurts." "I wouldn't really know, but cats can make impressive claw marks in a mortal skin," he said, scrubbing away. Tser laughed lightly. "Oh, I know about that!" she said, pulling up her right sleeve discretely to show a number of little teeny scars from kitten play. Luke stood up and brought over a broom. "Here, you sweep a path, and I'll scrub behind you." "If you look up my skirt, you're dead," Tser said slowly, eyes narrowed. Her skirt may reach the floor, but that didn't mean she was safe from prying eyes. Luke looked offended, but Tser didn't trust any man, mortal or ex-immortal. "Hey, Luke... do you know what caligo means in Latin?" "No, what?" "Mist... darkness... gloom. Moral or intellectual darkness. Interesting, isn't it?" Tser swept away some straw and tried to think of a way... any way... she could get out of this. * * * * * * Jennifer/Caligula left her horse to watch her two semi-feral (in her traumatized mind) cats play with the large rats that had decided to move into the stable. The brindled gray cat was an especially good mouser, using fear instead of tooth and claw to handle her prey. The other, brightly decorated cat, however, didn't seem to know what to do with the large rodents. She'd run after them, then pounce. After she'd landed on the rat, she licked it, and let it go on its way. Then, making a strange trilling noise, she'd look up at Jen/Caligula before running off to play with another rat. The all-powerfully-deluded Addict sighed. At least the lankier cat knew the value of fear. Fear would keep the local rats in line. Funny, she thought she'd heard that before. Perhaps it was a left-over from one of her public addresses. There would be time to recall later. She wanted to see how her new servant was coming along. * * * * * "So, Luke," Tser said. "You do this rescue thing often? Because let me tell you, if this is a sample of your services, I'm never hiring you." "Hey, look, sweetheart. You want to get out of here or not? Because I can leave you with her Imperial self, you know. I don't have to help you. As it is, I should probably expect a handsome reward from LaCroix." Tser smirked at the thought of LaCroix giving him a reward. He'd probably lock him up as a coconspirator. "You would. Are you sure you're not with the Mercs?" "Quite positive. I'm not a mercenary, bounty hunter, smuggler, hero or anything else. I'm a vampire... scratch that. I'm an EX-vampire who blames himself for dropping a brick on Jennifer's head and making her think she's Caligula." "You're sure you're not related to Nick?" "Yes," Luke said, exasperated. "Would you stop trying to tie me in with other things, already? Sheesh. You know, ever since that darn movie came out, people have been asking me for autographs. Don't you think if I *was* him I would've aged to his current state?" "Well, yeah...," Tser said. "There, you see? Now would you *please* keep sweeping?" "But I bet it's your floppy haircut that gets everyone thinking that." "What are you teaching her, Luke?" Jen/Cal's imperious voice rang out from behind them. The two turned quickly to face her. Luke cursed softly as he kicked the bucket of soapy water over. "I was teaching the girl-servant to polish the floors, my master," Luke said subserviently. Tser scowled at being called a girl-servant. Jennifer/Caligula beamed. Well, she beamed in an evil sort of way, actually. "Very good, my servant. Now, then, I want you to polish the wood of the stalls until they shine like gold." Luke practically scraped his forehead on the floor as he bowed. "Yes, my master." He remained in that position until he heard the deluded Addict's retreating footsteps. When he rose, he saw that Cousin Tserisa was fuming. "Polish the STALLS!!!" she cried. "Egads, do bricks make *everyone* delusional?" "Shhhhhh!!!!" Luke pleaded, putting a finger over her lips. "Please. Come on, this gives us a chance to talk where we can't be seen. I have a plan to get you out of here." "What about HER?!" Tser hissed back. "Don't worry. I'll take care of her. Maybe I can convince her to see a doctor, or something." "Yah, right," the cousin scoffed. "If you haven't noticed, she thinks she's a god, too. Gods don't need doctors." "Look, you want to hear my plan or not?" "Fine," she conceded, crossing her arms. "What is it?" As Luke whispered the plan in her ear, Tser began to smile. The smile slowly grew into a full Cousinly expression of glee. "Very, very good my boy," she praised him. Then, as an afterthought... "Are you sure you're not a Cousin?" From - Tue Aug 17 20:01:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gsfq-0002BG-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:29:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0983; Tue, 17 Aug 99 19:27:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8926; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:27:37 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:27:17 -0700 Reply-To: E McCann Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: E McCann Subject: WAR: DP: Hop to it! 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3d4bdd56754e17e61f80a670d94212ff Hop to it! Eric McCann - Dark Perks Late morning Tuesday - early afternoon (after 'Better living through chemistry') Eric was fidgety. Now this in and of itself isn't unusual for a Dark Perk, who as a group held the world's record for highest caffine levels for a sustained period of time. But it wasn't just the caffine getting to him. He'd heard his wife Leah was coming to town to war with the FODs, and was anxiously awaiting word of her arrival. In the meantime, however, he was discovering just how useful fidgeting could be at rapidly changing channels on the TV. "Skipper! Skipper!" *click* "Yes, you too can own one..." *click* ".. of my wife's diamond earrings." *click* "Well, Jerry, my girlfriend..." *click* "... can use them to make a wonderful salad." He shook his head as he heard one of his fellow faction members start giggling at this in passing. "I'm slowing down. That made too much sense. Need more coffee." After chaining the remote to the couch (a policy after losing ten remotes to the inquisitiveness of the mansion's household demons,) Eric made his way to the kitchen. He hurried as he smelled the other smell dear to a Dark Perk's heart - Anne's coffee brownies. He came in just as she pulled a new batch from the oven. "Hey Anne! Brownieeeesss... mmmmm...." "If you're going to snag some, take those. These are hot." "But that's the way..." "Take those." Eric sighed. Well, he supposed it would be easier to eat them if they didn't burn him or fall apart on the way. He snagged three of the brownies and a cup of coffee. "Thanks, Anne. Need anything?" She stuck another batch in the oven. "Not right now." She and the other dp's remembered what happened the last time Eric had offered to help cook. The fire department had managed to get a court order banning Eric from doing more than microwaving a TV dinner. Eric waved and, munching happily, wandered back towards the TV. He was finishing off the third one when he noticed one of the demons picking the lock keeping the remote chained to the couch. Successfully. "Hey!" he yelled, setting his coffee down (a sure sign of alarm in a Dark Perk.) The demon looked up, chittered at him, and took off with the remote. Eric took off after him. It was an epic chase at steadily increasing speed. Around the table, around suits of armor, up the stairs, back down - it's hard to shake a heavily caffinated Dark Perk. Unless, of course, you close the door. *WHAM!* Eric's head connected heavily with the door, the stuffed bunny heads temporarily hung there not doing much to soften the blow. *Thunk* Eric was down and out. ------ Several minutes later, he got up. "ooowwwww." He shook his head - then regretted it. Glaring at the bunny heads at the door, he wandered, defeated, back to the room with the TV. Or rather, the room that formerly had the TV. "Where'd it go? Anyone see the TV?" Nobody was around - for once in the Mansion's history, the TV was unattended. And the demons, not content with just the remote, had made off with it too. Eric sighed, and slumped into the couch, staring at the bunny heads around the room. His nose started itching. Then twitching. And then the brownies and coffee *really* kicked in. After bouncing his feet for a few minutes, nose twitching rapidly, he decided to grab a few more brownies and head out. "Anyone looking for me for whatever reason, Anne, let 'em know I've gone out for a walk. Or three. Maybe a run." "Nothing good on TV?" "No TV, the demons stole it." "Oh. Well, have a good... whatever. And don't eat all of those at once," she said, pointing to the bag of brownies in his hand. Anyone seeing him head down the path would have noticed a certain... bounce to his step. ------ Elsewhere in Toronto, a few minutes later: Judy was going over the list of supplies for the Natpack. "I'm telling you, Janet - Wars are fun, but..." Janet sighed as she looked for a gas station. "I told you, don't worry. They're fanfic calories. They have no effect after the end of the war." "Well... Janet, look there! Is that one of ours?' "Is what?" She followed her friend's gaze to where a man carrying a bag was making his way down the street. More precisely, *hopping* his way down the street. "I don't know, I haven't seen him before. Still, we have new people every war." "Should we pick him up? He seems lost." Janet looked closely. There was something odd... Still... "Sure, why not. Can't hurt, and if he's not one of ours, we can drop him off. These wars *are* supposed to help the factions get to know each other." She pulled up to the curb. "Hey!" Eric stopped hopping and looked over at the van stopped. He wriggled his nose and considered for a moment. "Yes?" "You look lost. Need a lift?" He wriggled his nose again. He recognized one of the van's occupants from a con held in Orlando many years ago. "Sure." He hopped into the van. "Thanks." He started wriggling his nose at everybody and everything in the van. The two Natpackers looked at each other as they drove off. Judy looked at her friend, then shrugged. "Sooo... You look familiar. Haven't we met?" Eric looked at Judy, wriggling his nose and thinking about it. "Wait... Yeah, down in Orlando. DanaKnight, right?" "Judy, actually.' "Sorry, I'm better with email addresses. Yeah, I remember - I'm Eric." They shook hands. "And this is Janet." Eric wriggled his nose at Janet and started chewing on the back edge of her seat. "Charmed, I'm sure." Janet took a good look at Eric at the next stop. "That's a nasty bruise on your forehead. Are you OK?" "Yeah, I'mOK." Eric noticed the bags in back and started chewing on the paper. "Soguys, gotanylettuce? Carrotstrips?" he asked in ever faster bursts. Janet stopped the van and pointed in the general direction of the FOD deli - she thought. "Yeah, over that way a few blocks." Eric's eyes lit up. "Thanks!" He opened the door and hopped out and down the street. Judy looked over. "What was *that* all about?" Janet just shook her head. "He wasn't a Natpacker. As far as he knew... he was a rabbit." The two drove off, shaking their heads and laughing. Neither one noticed the bag of brownies Eric left behind. From - Tue Aug 17 20:01:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GspN-0002cu-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:39:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2867; Tue, 17 Aug 99 19:37:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9886; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:37:33 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:39:21 +1000 Reply-To: TALIESYN@C031.AONE.NET.AU Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Alexander J. Braun" Organization: access one Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: NICOLA WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c624fba51375e20bd4d9229a7354ecd0 Ravenettes: NICOLA WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? Place: The Raven TIme: Early Saturday morning By: Alexander J Braun Janette stopped suddenly. What was it? What was that she was feeling. It took her a few moments, and then she realized what it was--she had a headache! Janette felt hot, like she had a fever. She was having heart palpitations. No, no, wait a minute......it was just that it was beating. More than three times a day. She felt hot because warm blood was running through her veins. To top it all off, she had a headache! Janette's mind flashed back to late Thursday evening. A package had been dropped off at the Raven. Lovely pendant it was, no doubt a present from an admirer. Wasn't like it was that unusual, really, for her to be receiving gifts. Janette had started to feel odd the moment she opened it and handled the pendant. She had taken it upstairs and placed it in her jewellery box. Forgotten, until now. Janette had early yesterday morning felt the change but at the time wasn't aware of what it portended, Miklos & Alma and the other vampires who resided at the club felt the change at the same time, it took awhile for Janette to understand what had happened. Janette explained to Miklos and the others what had happened to them, she thought long on who would have done this and every thought led to Nicola. "No he wouldn't do this" she thought, "Nicola wouldn't twice impose a change on me again" Janette brooded on this for awhile, she called to Miklos and advised him to summon her Ravenettes and Ravens they are needed, "Contact Kimberly she will be able to reach everyone" she said, then she thought. "Miklos there is one called Caroline a DP summon her as well, we will need her as well" Miklos flashed back in his mind, to late Thursday evening, and a conversation he had had with Janette: Miklos had been the one who initially handled the package."When I arrived at the club a delivery person had arrived with a package for you I signed and took delivery of it, there was something about that person that didn't feel right, I would be careful in opening it" Alma had been there with Miklos, also, and had handled the package.She was certain that it was jewellery, and so brushed Miklos's concerns aside. Janette loved her jewels, she would be more agitated if they did not give her the package. If Janette did not want the package, she could always throw it in the trash. So, they had made the decision to go ahead and give it to her. Janette had opened the package, and now........ Miklos remembered how pleased Janette had been initially with her new present. Janette did so love to receive gifts. Janette looked at the parcel then opened it and found something that looks like a pendent she looked at it for awhile then took it upstairs to her room and placed it in her Jewellery box. Even though she had just gotten up and dressed before coming down to take the gift from Miklos, as soon as Janette put the pendant in her jewellery box, she felt tired. she actually laid back down for a couple of hours. Later that day Janette greeted every one of her faction and explained what had happened, every one vowed to help her recover her immortality, after all the cache of the Raven/Ravenettes was having the immortal Janette DuCharme as their mistress. Some time later that night. Near the end of the party at the Raven Janette had hoped to talk to Nicola he sent his Knighties but did not put in appearance neither did Lacroix who she wanted to talk to, Janette looking at the revelry wounding down around her, she made sure the Nat Packers left the club, then went to her car and drove to Nicola's loft. "If he did this I will have my revenge on him, I will take his mortality away from him--because I'll kill him!" It didn't take her long to arrive, entering the elevator she was impatient to confront Nicola, she slammed the elevator door open and cried out "Nicola! Where are you?" -- Alex Braun - Taliesyn@c031.aone.net.au - ICQ # 12610993 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe". Marcus, B5 From - Tue Aug 17 20:02:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gsqv-0002fo-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:41:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1062; Tue, 17 Aug 99 19:39:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0015; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:39:04 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:40:51 +1000 Reply-To: TALIESYN@C031.AONE.NET.AU Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Alexander J. Braun" Organization: access one Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: Looking through a Scotch glass Darkly To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 625cd5be76d65c3356b38bbe90dbb543 Raven/Ravenettes: Looking through a Scotch glass Darkly Time: Raven Party Late Place: The Raven I watched that group Enforcers I think that's what they were called did there song I'm glad I didn't have to play again I wasn't that good to deserve a encore, I finished with drinking wine and started on the malt scotch Janette kept a very good selection. I wondered around and talked to the various people here and there, the knighties were the most fun they seemed so happy exuberant which seemed strange seeing there leader was so angsty. I saw my fellow Ravenettes having a good time Kimberly was dancing up a storm with one of the ex-vamps, Caroline and Chanda and Kathy were talking to Miklos, Lorna was chatting to the Vaq's. LeeAnn and Claudia dancing with a couple of Knighties were showing how it was done with style. I mixed with some of the ex-vamps they seemed a bit down I wonder why, shouldn't smirk as it also affected Janette when I saw her she looked a bit pre occupied. I decided to sympathize will the ex-vamps after all you don't know when they may become vampires again and they have long memories, Alma came up to me and asked if I wanted to dance, she had a look in her eyes that showed mischief I said I had to refill my scotch and made my way to the bar. Miklos poured me another scotch said "Be careful of Alma she would like to have some fun with you as she's mortal now there's no danger now for you" "Depends on what you define danger is" I replied as I went in to another area of the club avoiding Alma. The Nat Packers music was annoying even Miklos looked like he wanted to bite some one. Near the end of the night Janette made sure the Nat Packers had left even got them a limo then she went out looking agitated that was a worry for some one. I passed Alma on the way to my room she looked wasted she will a hell of a hangover tomorrow hopefully she wouldn't remember trying to chat me up. I'm glad I managed to avoid her during the party she was looking for some mischief to do to some one and I was smart enough to make sure it wasn't me. I walked in to the room and crashed on the bed hoping I wouldn't have too big a hangover or a party mess to work on. -- Alex Braun - Taliesyn@c031.aone.net.au - ICQ # 12610993 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe". Marcus, B5 From - Tue Aug 17 20:02:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gt1h-0007Bo-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:52:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4848; Tue, 17 Aug 99 19:50:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0581; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:50:14 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 18:50:21 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: FoD: What's that behind the Jukebox? (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d4e61bce84c8fbeb9e846d9c3c7df72f WAR:FoD:What's that behind the jukebox? 1/1 Sunday august 15 late morning By Cindy Brewer Everyone used with permission By Sunday pretty much all of the FoD's had recovered from the Ravenette's party. Granted it had taken most of Saturday to do so, hence why they were still cleaning the Deli Sunday morning. Spiff, Leah and Ron had decided to tackle the oven while Kathy and Bev and Lori took care of the counter and the area behind it. Cindy had gotten the task of pulling the jukebox away from the wall and cleaning the area behind as well as making sure the jukebox was polished. "What the hell?"Cindy muttered as she got down on her hands and knees for a closer look at an object that was lodged under the back of the jukebox. "What'd you find?"Kathy called from the counter where she was polishing glasses,"Vachon's cell phone number?" When her friend ignored the Vachon comment Kathy knew something was wrong so she hopped down to investigate. "What's going on?"Lori asked coming up behind Kathy. Kathy shrugged and tried to get Cindy's attention again,"Cin,what'd you find?" Cindy turned around and held the small object up to the light. It almost looked like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle but it was attached to a simple silver chain. There were symbols etched on it in gold and silver coloring that none of the Fod's reocognized. "*That* was behind the jukebox?"Lori asked as she peered closer at the strange object. "Yeah,"Cindy replied rising to her feet,"And its not dusty so it couldn't have been there since the last war." "Maybe it fell out of the box of cleaning supplies I had delivered."Spiff suggested having heard the tail end of the coversation as she,Bev and Ron came out of the kitchen. Cindy blinked almost Vaquera like at Spiff,"Box?"She repeated turning back toward the jukebox. Sure enough sitting on top of the jukebox was a small cardboard box. "Spiff,are you sure that's the cleaning supply box?"Ron asked as she moved through the group to reach the jukebox,"It doesn't look big enough." Spiff shrugged,"I assumed that's what it was. The delivery guy dropped off several boxes. I ordered a ton of supplies so I assumed that's what they all were." Bev turned to face her,"Spiff,what exactly did this delivery guy look like?" "The more important question,"Leah countered,"Is what does this thing mean to the war and what the heck do we do with it?" End. From - Tue Aug 17 20:30:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GtaX-0004ap-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 20:28:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5025; Tue, 17 Aug 99 20:26:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2780; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 20:26:13 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 20:21:24 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: Re: WAR: DP: War Chemistry To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 97e6997184d2ac695e875191bc590ca8 Martin moves through the Mansion seaching for Caeryn to see if she had managed to create the stuff he wanted to use later on in the War. He eventually finds her on her hands and knees looking for something. "Hey, Caeryn." "Hi, you've seen Burp around." It takes a moment for Martin to remember who or what Burp is. "No I haven't. But if it is important, I'll just come back later." "No, so what's going on." "I'm just wondering if you managed to come up with the stuff yet that I wanted to for this War." "I've got it right here." Caeryn reaches into her lab coat and comes up with a small tube that looks like a small topped tube." Martin had come up with the basic idea a while ago; certain tastes, smells, sights, can bring back memories. The spray is simply a much concentated version of that. "Thanks, I just want to try it out first." It is by bad luck for S.N.B. that she comes by, looking a bit worried about something. "Hey, could you see if this smells right." Martin hands the tube to her and she smells it. Immediately she stands still and gets a dazed look. "So how long does that last." "As best, from ten to thirty minutes of a flashback depending on the flashback. You can lead the person anywhere and they won't remember being moved or anything else during the time while effected." Martin smiles, "Thanks again for the help. I'll keep an eye open for Burp." He leads S.N.B. toward her room and leaves her there for the flashback to wear off. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 17 21:03:45 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gu7F-0002Mb-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 21:02:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3192; Tue, 17 Aug 99 20:59:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4500; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 20:59:57 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:56:24 -0500 Reply-To: Susan Nix Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Nix Subject: WAR: NA: Altar Ego (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 26a49e9f714b790843a2eb3d36b47571 NA: Altar Ego (1/1) By KC Susan Nix Erik used with permission of his own wonderful self. Kevin used with NA's permission Time: After Bon's Negotiation with the followers of the Greasy Spaniard and after KC's triumph in "KC Saves the Day" Place: About a block from the Greasy Spaniard's Church KC grumbled to herself as she sat in the passenger seat of the van still under rental. "Rassafrassa cruddy Bons moving me from my nice, cozy hideout," she muttered. Kevin shot a comforting look at the Evil One from the driver's seat. "Look on the bright side, sweetie " "That's MS. Sweetie to you, mister! Don't forget I employ you!" Needless to say, KC was not ecstatic about the move to the Church. "Anyway," Kevin continued. "Look on the bright side. You'll get a chance to add your own unique style to that dreary, greasy old place." KC brightened at this point. "You're right! Why, those thugs will be kissing my toesies when they see how I've improved that dump!" She smiled apologetically at Kevin. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. It's just that this war has been full of...unexpected surprises." Kevin snorted. "I know what you mean. It's like the whole town has gone crazy!" The van turned down the street, shuffling the few pamphlets and flyers left that littered the street. Kevin parked the behemoth in front of the Church and the two hopped out. "Man, I am not looking forward to moving this thing," Kevin said, shaking his head ruefully. "Aw, don't worry about it, we'll have the dolly to help move it. Besides, you should be proud to be handling such a work of art!" Kevin smiled. "It *is* pretty nice. Even kinda cute!" KC blushed. The two opened the doors at the back of the van, and, with much cursing and gnashing of teeth, hauled the object onto the dolly. With even more gnashing of teeth and rendering of a part of KC's toga, they got it up the treacherous steps and into the church. Finally, they placed it onto the Church's altar and admired their work. It was a glorious sight. Proud and magnificent, the statue of KC that the addict had made of herself to stand in a corner of the Shrine stood firmly in the exact middle of the Church's altar, so all could worship KC's mightiness and tidiness. "It truly is remarkable, if I do say so myself," KC said with hushed awe. "Yeah, now those people will know who the true goddess is, and that they should all bow down before you!" Kevin dutifully kowtowed. KC smiled with approval at Kevin's right-thinking. "You know, for a man, you've got a lot of brains!" Kevin basked in KC's admiration. KC clapped her hands and turned to the rest of the Shrine, seeing what else could be improved. She ran a hand casually over a pew, and recoiled in horror when her hand was covered in Spaniard grease. She did the most bizarre shimmy of repulsion, waving her hand about as if a grenade was glued to it. Finally, she ran over to Kevin and wiped in on the heinder portion of his jumpsuit. He mistook it for a friendly pat and gave the lil' trickster a naughty grin. "Not until we're finished!" he said saucily. Not wanting to explain, KC only nodded and refocused her attention onto the mess that was the Church. First, KC decided that the grease must go. She spent about twenty minutes with a rag and some Pledge , bringing the pews to a suitable, non-greasy state. Then, she decided to add a bit of silliness to the place. After all, evil silliness was *her* gig. Like her trademark or something. She went back to the van and returned with about 20 Snixco peach flamingoes and placed them here and there. "Much better!" she said to Kevin. He turned from his task of putting up tasteful lace curtains in the stained glass windows and nodded approvingly. Then, KC decided some soothing sounds were needed to replace the echo of the Greasy Spaniard's godawful pluckings. When Kevin was finished putting up the curtains, he and she moved KC's Snixco Mega Earbleeder 5000 from the van and set it up in a corner of the Church. KC slipped in her fave CD, and almost immediately, the smooth sounds of the Nightcrawler's best monologues flowed from the speakers. "Ahhh...music to my ears," the little blonde sighed. While Kevin was putting up a sign that read "Bless This Mess", KC decided to add a final touch of NA to the formerly tasteless place. She didn't need any help hauling the giant portrait of Nunkies, inspired by the picture on the NA web page, into the church. She set it up near the statue of herself, so her fellow addicts could draw inspiration from two very influential sources. Now, all that was left was the Evil Pink Bathroom. That HAD to go. KC shuddered as she stepped into the place, remembering her shoddy treatment therein. Then she smiled as she remembered the delicious revenge she had extracted on the Vaqmommy. "Selling her to the Ratpack....brilliant!" she said to herself. KC grabbed a brush and the bucket of peach paint she had brought from the van and was about to apply the first strike...er..stroke, when a manly yet twinkle toes-like shadow loomed over her. She looked up to see Cousin Erik standing over her in the doorway. "You know, you have a tear in the shoulder of your toga," he remarked casually. "Nice to see you too, organ donor...er...Erik. What can I do ya fer?" KC replied slyly. "You're stealing my thunder, darlin'. I have dibs to tackle this bathroom." he said, smiling a 'get away from my stuff' smile. KC shrugged. "Fine with me, I'll go start vacuuming all the Greasy Spaniard's split ends that he's shed. Man, it practically blankets the place!" KC moved past Erik into the main room, and went again to the van, brought the vacuum in (this is a Mary Poppins van here), and started to work vacuuming the hair. It was a daunting task. Every now and again the machine would get gummed up with all the grease, but eventually, she lay on the non-greasy pew, content at last, Kevin lying on a nearby pew. "Now this is more like it!" she said, admiring her own visage in stone. "Yep...but I wonder what they're doing to our place?" Kevin asked. "I don't wanna think about it." From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GuwH-00008V-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 21:54:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1641; Tue, 17 Aug 99 21:52:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7750; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 21:52:44 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 21:55:22 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Discussion After the Meeting (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cbbceadd9e018ab59c067a8a26198add Title: Cousins LCL: Discussion After the Meeting (1/1) Date: Saturday, August 14th Time: Immediately after "WAR: CUZ: Meeting of Cousinly minds" By: Arletta Asbury After the end of the Cousinly meeting, Arletta, Shelley, Annette and Brandi huddled together talking. It was so hard to grasp, Lacroix, a MORTAL! Sure they were Light Cousins (except for Shelley) and they wanted him to embrace the humanity still within him, but to change and actually BE human, was ... er ... well NOT REALLY what they'd ever envisioned. "Uhhh", Arletta said. She seemed to say that a lot. "What should we do?" Annette asked. "Do?" Shelley echoed. "*Could* we do anything?" Brandi shrugged. "He's really mortal?" she asked as if not quite believing it. "Should we *try* to help," Annette rephrased her question. "Uhhh..." Arletta began again. "I dunno. Ahhh, the Cousinly leaders seem to have the ... situation ... well ... not under control ... but ..." she seemed too stunned to continue. Annette gave her leader a meaningful look. As the second in command, and their web mistress, she pondered a moment. "We could help by surfing the net, looking for clues. But should we. I mean, should we *try* to help restore him to ... to ... to" "Being a vampire," Shelley finished for her. "Exactly. Thanks, Shelley." Arletta sighed. "Well I'm not sure how much help we'd be. There are plenty of others here with computer expertise too." She paused. "But ..." "But?" Brandi asked. "Maybe we should *offer* to help." Arletta continued. "I mean the Cousins are letting us stay here. And ..." "And?" Brandi echoed. "And we've never really wanted him to NOT BE a vampire. Have we?" The others vigorously shook their heads in response. "OK, then. We're agreed. We'll do what we can to support the others in their ... ahh ... investigation." Just as this momentous decision was reached the four turned to leave the meeting room. And met face to face with Lacroix. "Uhhh ... " Arletta began quite embarrassed to be caught talking about him by the ... er ... man himself. "Hello," Brandi said. "Good evening, ladies" Lacroix said. "It's good that you've decided to JOIN us." Then he moved on past their little group. "Now WHAT did he mean by that?" Shelley asked. From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gv99-00055v-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:08:12 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5446; Tue, 17 Aug 99 22:05:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8554; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:05:55 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 21:07:36 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: Mi Casa Es Su Casa (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cbb622113a71a268945cfce076ce316a NA: Mi Casa Es Su Casa (1/1) by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Cousin Jules, Annie, Cousin Erik, KC, Shele, the Fanfic Fairies, Louis Cabon, Alfred Pectin and the Addict Multitude Time: Tuesday Morn-ish, After 'Vamos A Negociar' Y 'Caveat Emptor' and 'A Kidnapping and a Note' Before 'KC Saves the Day (Again)' Location: Shrine to Nunkies & The Church "Addicts! Addicts! Gather 'round, s'il vous plait." Bonnie had just rung The Big Gong to call an official meeting. The multitude of Addicts that were on the premises stopped what they were doing to listen, except for Shele. She kept on doing what she was doing, which was prop up against the wall as though she was a huge hunk of plaster. Seeing how Shele technically *was* a huge hunk of plaster, it appeared she'd found her vocational Xanadu with little effort. "I want everyone's attention! I've made a decision that's going to affect our living arrangements for a while: we're going to be moving out of the Shrine." "What?!" Annie exclaimed with NunkMommy indignation. "Nobody consulted me about this!" There was a riotous rumble as the crowd agreed in indelicate terms. Bonnie held up her palms, urging the crowd to quiet. "Let me list a few things, and then we'll discuss whether moving is a bad idea, okay?" She didn't mention the fact that her concept of 'discuss' was 'agree with me.' Bonnie held up her index finger. "Exhibit A" no roof, no bedrooms, cranky eye-candy construction workers." There were murmurs among the addicts, some happy, some not. "Exhibit B: Accountants." There was a growing tide of unease to be heard among her audience. "Exhibit C: Shele Exhibit D: Jennifer, I mean, Caligula. Exhibit E:..." "All right! All right!" Annie called. "I'm for it! Let's clear out until the Shrine meets our living standards!" "Yeah!" the Addict Multitude cheered. "So everyone get packed! Bring your bedrolls, and any important bits you can't live without!" "Yeah!" The Addicts scattered, soon lost in a mad flurry of packing. Bonnie approached Cousin Jules as soon as the Addicts dispersed. "Where's Patt? The High Priestess shook her head. "I don't know. I gather from your panicked expression, you didn't consult her about this little relocation, either." Bons had the grace to look guilty as hell. "Um, no." "She's going to take it personally," Jules pointed out. "She doesn't *have* to," Bonnie said, guilt making her a tad snippy and defensive. "LaCroix gave her a sucky job and us terrible conditions to live with. It's I good thing I found the Vaqs willing to switch." "THE VAQS?!?!" Cousin Erik had approached in order to show Bonnie something he'd found tucked away in the Toga Room, but this word raised his alarm. "You mean, we're going to stay at the Church?! On purpose?! But they have the Evil Pink Bathroom!!!" "You don't have to use the Evil Pink Bathroom if you don't want to," Bons countered. "And just because the Vaqs have lived there, it doesn't mean the place has cooties." "KC'll have something to say about that!" Erik vowed. Spotting the Kissing Cousin pushing a statue across the Shrine floor (and, funny enough, this wasn't Shele). "KC!" he yelled. "DO VAQS HAVE COOTIES!?!?" "TOO GREASY FOR COOTIES!!!" KC shouted back happily. Bons immediately sent Erik a satisfied, 'Told ya!' look. Amidst her smugness, the Scribe's eyes widened with sudden joy. "Shoes!!! You have a pair of my shoes!!!" Erik frowned down at the pair of thong lifts he'd come across. He was still too wary of living at chez Slacker to share her thrill of discovery. "I thought you might need them. You've been going around barefoot all day..." "OHMIGAWSH!!!!" Bonnie squealed, taking the sandals and hugging them to her chest. "My shoes! My shoes!" Then she went after Erik, hugging him as though he was a long-lost non-sensible shoe himself. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" "You're welcome." By the time Bonnie let him go, Erik wasn't so appalled at the idea of moving into Vaq Central. Like she said, he didn't *have* to go in the Evil Pink Bathroom. he thought as he wandered off to pack his things, Bons was practically bouncing as she slipped the lifts on. Presto! Four inches taller! She beamed like a floodlight. Then her forehead pursed slightly. "Wait a sec. There's a piece of paper or something in my shoe." Bonnie bend down, and, when she stood, she was holding a letter. "Oh, dear. Christina's been kidnapped!" She looked up with alarm. "Well, it *is* Tuesday," Jules said sagely. "Tuesday is kidnapping day. Which faction did the deed?" Bons shook her head. "No faction. Aliens again! I swear, they're always snatching our best people!" The Scribe began to read the note anew. "Hmm...and Chris has been inventing again! Come on!" Jules followed her to the Sacred Cold Shower room, where Bonnie hopped up and down until she located a loose tile. Watching Bons fiddle with some sort of combination, Jules finally asked, "What did Chris invent?" "She called it 'Someone Else's Problem' spray. This might help me get out of hot water with Patt." "That reminds me," Jules said, pulling out her cellular. "Let me try and ring Patt, so she doesn't come back to an empty Shrine..." She started to dial. Bons was fiddling with the SEP sprayer and pointing it indiscriminately, and her thumb slipped. *ssssstt!* "Eeehhhhwww!" Bonnie whined. "I got some in my eye!" Jules sighed, closing her mobile phone. "I don't know why I'm bothering to call Patt. Let it be Someone Else's Problem for a change!" "Keen!" Bonnie oohed. "This stuff *does* work!" There was a *poof!* sound, followed by the flutter of several angry wings. The fluttering soon dissipated, and Bons looked up to find several Fanfic Fairies giving her blase stares, a piece of paper held like a banner in their tiny hands. "Is that for me?" Bonnie asked. The fairies shrugged. They didn't care. It was Someone Else's Problem. Bonnie took the note anyway. It read: 'We, the Fanfic Fairies, have a decided you are unworthy of out loyalty. Your speciesist tyranny will no longer be tolerated! We shall overcome! We have organized! From now on, all services require proper compensation. As a tribute to our newfound union, we have decided to charge you one pair of non-sensible shoes in exchange for all the Personal Tranquillity Device deliveries you've ordered us to perform. Payment expected immediately." Bons winced. Sure, the fairies didn't have a care in the world right now, but Christina's message said something about the spray's effects being temporary, lasting only an hour. There'd be one p.o.ed posse of fanfic fairies, and, eventually, faction leaders' tranquillity torpedoed, if she didn't pay up. Fighting back tears anew, Bons slipped off her last bastion of non-sensible shoes and handed them over. Heading out of the Sacred Cold Shower, Bons was accosted by both Monsieur Cabon and Alfred Pectin. It only took long enough to catch a whiff of the SEP spray floating around Bons for them to forget whatever their complaint was (Pectin had, in fact, been annoyed that no cleanup crew had reported for work yet, and Louis had been ready to weep that no one truly appreciated him anymore). At the door to the Shrine, though, there was a bigger test of Christina's product: All the Nunkies Addicts, suitcases in hand, Shele on her luggage rack, newfound knowledge of just where they were going to be staying roaring through their heads. (Erik told! Erik told!) "We aren't staying at some greasy Vaq house!" KC protested. "Now, now," Bonnie soothed. "Everyone take a deep breath." The Addict Multitude inhaled. "Now, even if it *is* the Vaqs' Church, isn't having a roof over our heads the most important thing?" The Addict Multitude exhaled. "Yeeeeeaaaaahhhhh." Bonnie preened, and tucked the handy vial of SEP spray in her pocket. *********************************************************************** An hour later, the transplanted Addicts stared at the unholy mess that was their new home. "Way to go with the roof over our heads," KC muttered. Then everyone threw their suitcases at Bonnie. Shele, she toppled over in disgust. *********************************************************************** Fin for now... Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GvE6-0000tK-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:13:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5469; Tue, 17 Aug 99 22:11:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8788; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:11:11 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 21:11:19 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Williams Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Williams Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Interview for a Tour Guide (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 13d4aab4dc061f6dc8d542b55ee341d9 Title: Cousins LCL: Interview for a Tour Guide (2/2) Date: August 16, 1999 Time: 2pm By Annette Williams with permission from all used. Disclaimer: Autumn Lewis is a fictional character I created and I give myself permission to use her. "So I told Arletta we'd be using this office for the interviews. It's smaller than the other and doesn't have any windows," said Annette. "We prefer this one because..." queried Brandi. "Because Arletta will show the nicer one on the tour she's giving and this way we'll have some privacy for the interview and be out of her way," Annette replied. "Oh yeah, OK," Brandi said. "The desk was already in here and I brought the chairs in from the dining room. I found the coat rack in the closet there," Annette explained. "It's a little spartan but this was a monastery." "Let's alternate who asks the questions, that way the other two can study her responses," Shelley offered. "Who are we interviewing again?" "Arletta said her name is Autumn Lewis and she's bringing her resume and references with her," Annette replied. Just then the group heard a small knock on the door. Arletta entered with a small middle aged woman carrying a large portfolio over one shoulder with an equally large purse on the other and a cup of Buckstars coffee in her hand. "Ladies, this is Autumn Lewis, she's here for the tour guide position," Arletta said. "Excuse me, I have a tour group waiting. Good luck Ms Lewis." "Hi, Ms Lewis," Annette greeted extending her hand. "I'm Annette and this is Shelley and Brandi, we'll be discussing the position with you. Please have a seat." "Call me Autumn," she answered as she briefly squeezed each hand. The woman appeared to be lost in thought for a moment as the three woman stared at her just standing there. Brandi was the first to notice she was trying to shift the bags off her shoulders and balance the coffee as well. "Here let me help you with those," she offered. "Oh my, they're heavy." "Yeah, I like to be prepared," Autumn said. "You never know what you'll need." Brandi placed the bags on the floor as the woman dropped heavily into the chair facing the desk. Annette noticed that she sat the coffee cup on the desk precariously close to the edge. "Why don't you give us your resume and references first?" Annette suggested, eyeing the coffee cup. "Oh, OK, I have that number her somewhere." Annette quickly grabbed the cup just as Autumn's hand would have connected with it as she stood and turned to go back to her bags. After rummaging and muttering to herself for a few minutes, Autumn returned to the chair and handed Annette a little yellow post-it note containing a name and phone number. "That's Ms. McIntrye's son's number. She's staying with him in Florida." she explained. "I see." said Annette as she looked questioningly at Shelley and Brandi and who simply stared back at her. "Do you have your resume?" asked Shelley. "Well, I told the agency to send you a list of my jobs. They have all that in the computers you know," Autumn answered. "I don't think it came yet," said Brandi, "why don't I go check?" "That's not necessary," Annette said quickly. "Autumn just tell us about your previous experience as a tour guide." "Oh I've never been a tour guide, honey, but how hard can it be?. I'll just pretend I'm showing them around my house," Autumn explained. "When does the singing start?" "Excuse me?" said a startled Shelley. "You know, the monks doing that chant stuff... I read in the little brochure about the symmetry chanting here and I thought it would be good if I heard it first." Annette tried desperately to stifle her impending laughter. Even so far as to cover her mouth with her hand. Brandi replied quietly, "There's no singing". "But the brochure said..." as Autumn turned to reach behind her for her purse, her right hand finally connected with the coffee cup sending it flying across the small room and splattering against the wall. "Oh NO!" yelled Annette as she, Brandi and Shelley leaped from their chairs to avoid being spattered. "Don't worry, honey, I have some towels here... I always carry some with me..." As Autumn stepped over to her bags her foot was tangled in the shoulder strap and she fell forward. Grabbing the back of her chair for support Autumn succeeded only in taking it down with her as she fell heavily onto the floor. Brandi rushed to her aid but managed to slip in the coffee spill on the floor. Reaching for anything to avoid falling too, brandi grabbed the wooden coat rack hanging on trying to stop her sliding feet. Unfortunately the years had taken it's toll on the wooden rungs as they gave way completely and Brandi fell also with the rack in tow. Arletta hearing all the screams and commotion rushed into the room finding Annette standing in the far corner with her hand over her mouth, Brandi and Autumn in a mass of chairs, coat rack and coffee on the floor, and Shelley standing near by shaking her head. "What the..." Arletta started. She decided to simply back out of the room quietly and resume her tour. She was certain there was an explanation in there somewhere and she'd just as soon hear it later. From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GvPx-0001Lh-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:25:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5508; Tue, 17 Aug 99 22:23:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9339; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:23:28 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 19:25:39 -0700 Reply-To: "Nancy A. Taylor" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knighties: "Suspicious Minds" To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c237a0a7064100c6ab5e2e0eb12d0f08 Knighties: Suspicious Minds by Nancy Taylor Time: Sunday, Aug. 15, late afternoon, following the post "NA: I Bring You a Message of Peace" Place: the Loft Knighties and Nick used with permission Ary and Jennifer also abused with permission "Who is it now?" Nancy asked, descending the stairs from the radio shack on the roof of the loft. "It's definitely not Avon," answered Jenn, suspiciously eyeing two rather strange looking women dressed in peach bellhop uniforms. "Looks like Nunkies Anonymous members to me," Nancy commented, noting in particular the color of the uniforms. "We had probably best treat this as an attack. Can't be too careful with Nick being mortal, you know." Jenn nodded in agreement. "We *could* just neglect to answer it. Maybe they'd think we were all out looking for pieces of that cube thingy." "Nah, let's go check them out. NA's can be ... um ... interesting people. You just never know, and we ought to find out if they might be up to something." "Okay," Jenn agreed. The two Knightie leaders took the elevator down to the garage to greet their visitors. No use inviting trouble by asking them into the loft.... "Who are you?" Nancy asked the orange-clad women. "And what do you want?" Jenn added, ever suspicious of the NAs. One of the NA members turned on the boombox they had brought. Strains of sitar music wafted through the morning air as the two gyrated like a couple of drunk marionettes in front of the slightly annoyed Knighties. "We Bring You ... A Message of Peace!" Ary said, tossing plastic daisy petals at Nancy and Jenn. The Knighties flailed their arms in a vain attempt to keep from having an eye put out by the plastic projectiles. "Okay! Okay! Enough already!" Nancy cried with exasperation. "Why did you say you were here?" Ary and Jennifer bowed deeply, extending their arms, four envelopes clasped in their hands. Hesitantly, Nancy took them. One was addressed to herself, another to Jenn. The other two were for Roz and Katrinka. Shrugging, she ripped into her envelope, finding a richly embossed parchment ticket inside. Puzzled, she looked to Jenn, who was holding the ticket's twin. They looked up to see the two Nunkies Anonymous members running away down the alley. "Don't trip over the...." Nancy grimaced as a loud clatter echoed in the enclosed space. "...garbage cans." She smiled wickedly at Jenn as the two made their way back up to the loft. "What in the dickens is a "Personal Tranquillity Device"? Jenn wondered, eyeing her ticket, which offered her a free "PTD" of her choice. "I honestly don't think we want to find out," Nancy replied. "Coming from the NAs, this is most likely an attack. For one thing, I can't *afford* to be tranquil right now. I'm running three ways at once just trying to keep up with this war. I think I'll just rent out a nice padded cell when it's over." Jenn giggled. "Yeah. The thing would probably turn us into slobbering Nunkies, anyway." She screwed up her face in such a show of disgust that Nancy laughed out loud. "We're *Knighties* after all!" Nancy exclaimed proudly. "Not Cousins, not Nunkies. What do we want with *him* when we have NICK?" Both Knighties grinned ear to ear as they tore up their coupons and tossed them in the air, sprinkling themselves with beige confetti. "What's going on?" Roz demanded, walking into the party atmosphere. "Yeah, you're not throwing a party without inviting us, are you?" Katrinka asked, conveniently arriving right behind the Knightie Co-Leader. "These are for you," Nancy said, handing them the envelopes. "From the NAs," Jenn added, still grinning. The two tore into their respective envelopes. "What's a "Personal Tranquillity Device"? Roz asked, echoing Jenn's earlier question. "Probably nothing good," grumbled Kat, admiring the gold lettering on the peach-colored parchment with distrust. "We suspect it's something that could very easily put us out of commission for the rest of the war," Nancy explained. "Hence the confetti," Jenn added. "Always the practical ones, aren't you?" chuckled Roz, tearing her ticket into tiny pieces as she spoke. As she and Kat tossed their confetti in the air, laughter rang out through the loft. ~fin~ Nancy A. Taylor War 10 -- Knightie 2IC and Backup Leader From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GvU6-0001ZR-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:29:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1828; Tue, 17 Aug 99 22:27:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0041; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:27:40 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 21:31:26 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: CUZ: A Mad Marguerita Party (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 46d4e732986ee8d65ac27525786adce1 A MAD MARGUERITA PARTY (1/1) By Cousine Celeste and Cousin Lisa Place: The Raven, at the big party Time: During "Dubious Weapon" and "Hoist By Their Own Petard", then "Party-Time" McCousin McLisa appears freely, and of her own free will. Cousine Celeste sat at the bar, enjoying a damn fine marguerita; it was both yum *and* 'lish, pretty much the highest praise a marguerita can rate. She'd spent the last 18 years or so in search of The Perfect Marguerita and this wasn't it, but it was *soooo* close. Only the fleeting thought she'd had that the glass itself had probably once held human blood for some other customer at some other time stopped it from complete perfection. That, and the music that was currently blaring over the Raven's sound system. Not that she didn't appreciate Ricky Springfield, in the right place and at the right time... like, where ever and whenever she wasn't around. The song ended, and a Belinda Carlisle ballad started up. "Gimmee another," said the Cousine to a passing waiter, a note of panic in her voice. All they needed to play now was Toni Basil's "Micky" and the current musical assault would be complete. "In fact, get me a *pitcher*!" she called to the waiter's back. While she was waiting for more liquid life-saver, she swung about on her seat and watched the dance floor for a while, idly licking the last of the salt off the rim of her empty glass. Hmmmm.... Strange. People were lying on the dance floor, writhing around like crazy, even the rather nicely-dressed Ravenettes and Ravens. "Must be some sort of new dance craze," she muttered into her empty glass. "Nutty kids." She'd probably be seeing it soon on one of those freaky Gap khakis commercials. Not like she was gonna be rolling around on any grubby old floor, not with the vintage 13-tier fringed black mini-dress she had on. She pulled up one of the elegant rhinestone spaghetti-straps to sit more securely on her shoulder. She was a little annoyed that she'd let Lisa talk her out of topping off her ensemble with one of the Sacred Vomitously-printed Silk Shirts of The One True Ray, she'd have left it unbuttoned and knotted the bottom of the silk shirt about her waist -- it would have looked great, dammit, just great. Celeste shot Lisa a dirty look where she sat on the bar stool next to hers. As was her habit, Lisa was drinking water instead of a more suitable bar-type beverage. The Cousine had gotten the whole 'alcohol is dehydrating, full of calories, and lowers your immune system' speech on the ride over to The Raven. Lisa was still dressed in her black leather mini skirt and white silk poet's shirt. It was what she considered to be the perfect, all-around outfit. She could unbutton the shirt and go to a biker bar or button it up and hang out in the Raven. When Celeste didn't get a suitable response to her dirty look, she looked more carefully at Lisa. Her fellow Cousin was looking down and off to the right for some reason. The Cousine leaned back to see if there was anything interesting lying on the floor -- you never know what you're going to see slithering around during a War, especially at the Raven. When nothing obvious presented itself, Celeste said, "Hey, Lisa...? *Lisa*...? ...LISA!" "What? ::THUD:: *What*?" asked her companion while glancing around quickly in a very guilty manner. "WHAT are you reading now," asked Celeste, when she identified the resounding 'thud' as a book hitting the floor. "Let's see, shall we...?" She leaned down and scooped up the book, "Omigod! 'Minuette, The Meretricious Maven Mistress'! 'Eeyew' doesn't *begin* to cover this!" Masochistically, she flipped it open to a random page and began reading aloud: "'Oh Wiklos, it's been so long, be gentle with me,' Minuette whispered into his erotic, eager, erstwhile ear. "'Yes, my darling, my cream puff, my lovey-wovy, my kittie-kins, my pumpkin puss, my lovely, lithe, lady love,' Wiklos whispered back. "'Oh Wiklos, my honey bear, my Greek god, my Adonis, my lump-a-lump o'burning love, my strong, stalwart, sexy, studly suitor," Minuette moaned. "Wiklos slathered slobberingly into Minuette's nubile, nuzzleable neck.... "Make it stop... pleeeeeeease, make it stop," moaned the Cousine, dropping the book face-down into a pool of condensation. Her pitcher of margueritas had arrived mid-way through the excerpt and was already half gone. Lisa snatched up the book and rolled her eyes. She'd rather enjoyed it. "Oh, get over yourself; a little alliteration never hurt anyone... much." Suddenly, the song "I Will Survive" began to play. "Hey!" cried Cousine Celeste, getting over herself very quickly, "HEY! Too cool!" She had just seen "In and Out" not two weeks ago; she'd loved that scene where the main character had discovered the joy of dance and his own sexuality through that song. She leapt to her feet, yodeling, "Ooo-oo, ooo-oo, ooo-oo, ooo-oo; ooo-oo, ooo-oo, ooo-oo, ooo-oo!" and pointing one finger skyward, then floor-ward, then skyward again, in time with the beat. She thanked god she was wearing flats and could dance forever in them; "Look great, but always wear comfortable shoes" was a piece of good advice she'd gotten from Raven Jane many Wars ago. Her 13 tiers of sexy black fringe flew about, making her rather goofy dance steps seem more sinuous and graceful than they actually were. Lisa raised one eyebrow as she looked at her friend and tried to decide if she needed CPR for the seizure she appeared to be having or if there might be some sort of creature crawling up her friend's dress. After a moment, Lisa decided that Celeste seemed to be 'dancing' and was not in immediate need of an ambulance. McLisa wandered over and fell onto the Cousine's vacated bar stool, setting her laptop on the bar. She'd consumed two -- or was it three? -- Zombie Beachcombers since she'd entered the Raven an hour ago. Her eyeballs followed the bouncing Cousine's fringe, boing, boing, boing; until she finally clapped the hand not holding her drink over her eyes to stop the motion-sickness that loomed. Lisa took one look at McLisa and sensuously, silkily, slitheringly slinked-- ::quick shake of writer's head; Nicolas Chevalier is infiltrating everywhere. let's try again, shall we?:: Lisa took one look at McLisa and strode purposefully down to the end of the bar to grab a champagne bucket, just in case. She handed McLisa the bucket and took up residence on a bar stool next to the green-tinged McCousin. McLisa looked at the bucket, looked at Lisa, then said, "My cat always says, 'If you've got a hairball, hack it up in the laundry basket.' You wouldn't happen to have a nice, full laundry basket, preferably filled with clean clothes, would you?" Lisa blinked at the McCousin for a moment, doing a remarkably apt imitation of Vachon, then got up and moved down one stool. Celeste, who'd been in what could only be described as "The Disco Zone," returned to her seat as the song ended. She picked up her marguerita, took a long pull, and said, "That music just gets them ten toes a-tappin'." "Careful," admonished Lisa. "You're starting to alliterate." It was moments after "I Will Survive" played that something odd happened. There was a miniature lightshow as four people pushed through the crowded dance floor and strode up to the stage. "*Now* what," Cousin Lisa said. The four people mounted the stage and, in formation, turned and struck a pose. "Ooh, looks like the local talent may be up to something... something that's going to be really, *really*, bad, I'm guessing." "We're pretty close to the exit if smoke bombs start going off," the Cousine said. A War veteran, she'd noted the nearest escape routes when she first came in. "A talent show?" said McLisa, having missed most of the conversation. "Is there gonna be a talent show? I can set the whole list nopost in one command!" She waved her hands as if performing a magic trick. "Yes, McLisa, a talent show!" said Celeste in that loud, fake-cheery voice you use when you talk to the sadly senile, the terminally dim, or the perpetually drunk. Unfortunately, at that moment the grim-looking quartet began to sing. The entire room froze in dismay, in awe of the remarkable lack of talent the singers and the writer of the song showed, as well as their stalwart bravery in parading their vocal shortcomings in front of just about everybody who was anybody in the War. The song went on for-freakin'-ever, like an Energizer Bunny from hell, like a speech by Big Brother in "1984", like Chris Carter droning on and on in a voice-over on the X-Files. Every time the filk-loving Cousine thought the un-Fab Four had pushed past human limits on mangling meter and hack-and-slashing rhythm and rhyme, they would come up with yet another stanza worse than the one before. Finally, the song was OVER. The sudden silence seemed to reverberate in everyone's tortured eardrums, as if the final note of the final line of that final ghastly stanza were hanging in the air over the stage, throbbing like a papercut. One of the off-key quartet glanced over at her cohort-in-disharmony and said, "That's what happens when you play "I Will Survive" from the In & Out video." "Well, we all very nearly didn't survive that one," muttered Cousine Celeste to Lisa, "but I gotta admit, I do like that strapless green ensemble the chick at the end is wearing very much!" Lisa gave Celeste a disapproving look and said, "I'm taking names. I don't care if those guys *are* working for the Enforcers, they must be stopped from destroying more innocent party-goers." McLisa grinned to herself, the kind of grin that sends strong men -- and women - - running out of a dark alley even when *they* are the ones who are armed. That third Zombie Beachcomber had been really refreshing. She adjusted her long black skirt with the rose trellis printed on it and decided it went quite well with her new tee-shirt, the one that had a black cat in silhouette with the words, "Salem, Ma, where magic lives!" under it... a black cat... a black cat... a... black... *CAAAAAAT*! That tee-shirt was definitely a mistake. Cousine Celeste, McLisa noted, was moving about, and so was her fringe. A compulsion, one that must have matched McLisa glass-for-glass while she was sucking down zombie beachcombers, crept up on the McCousin. She let her drink fall, yelled, "WE ARE SIAME-E-ESE, IF YOU *DON'T* PLEASE!" at the top of her lungs, and sprang at the Cousine's face. Fortunately she missed, owing to the fact that her feet were entangled in her barstool, and by the time she had been picked up and firmly provided with a Shirley Temple by Alma, the flashback to War 9 was over. She was no longer under the impression that she was a cat. McLisa made a point of checking that the contents of the glass she'd been handed were clear. When a vampire bartender offers you a drink, never accept it if it's red and opaque. TO BE CONTINUED ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gved-0006Sw-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:40:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3627; Tue, 17 Aug 99 22:38:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0593; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:38:36 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 22:32:48 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA/Harem: Cushioned for Impact To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c02e504b574494c46d075eb454d0ec55 NA/Harem: Cushioned for Impact by Patt Elmore, with input from Amethyst and Randora When: Tuesday afternoon, Aug. 17, 1999 Where: Harem, Mohead's, streets of Toronto and outside CERK. Follows: GSS: Cold as Ice Amethyst used with permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Amethyst, Second Wife of the Harem de Nicholas, was on a mission. She clenched both the phone and her teeth, waiting with some impatience for the salesclerk to return to the receiver and provide the information she sought. Not a few pencil erasers had succumbed to her chewing instinct and her newest victim was rapidly being ground away. "Hullo?" a voice at the other end of the line caused the red- haired woman to sit up straighter. "Hello!" Amethyst responded, trying to keep her voice civil. "Who you waiting for?" the voice asked. "I was speaking with a salesclerk about some cushions," Amethyst replied. "Who?" "I don't know . . ." the Texas native said with exasperation. "Look . . . you are the third person to pick up this phone. All I need to know is if you have any black brocade cushions." "Wait a minute and I'll check," the voice replied. Then Amethyst heard the click of being put on hold for the fourth time. the Harem resident sulked, But, there was no time to sigh, Amethyst decided with sudden conviction. The telephone route just wasn't working and Nick could not be subjected to sitting on the floor of his loft for too much longer. Until his stolen sofa was recovered, he needed a place for his precious posterior, and Amethyst was determined to secure him some home furnishings. Amethyst thought with a grin, thinking of the vampire cop's rear attributes. But, one sigh was enough. Grabbing her bag and cloak, Amethyst sprang into action. "If Mohead's Cushy Cushions won't come to the Harem, then the Harem must go to Mohead's," the young woman said aloud as she headed for the front door. She sought her van keys as she walked, but a sudden realization caused her to slap her forehead and mouth words unbecoming a Knightie. "Darnit," she said, her words toned down somewhat for PG- rating. "I loaned my van to Randora, to haul party supplies. I'll just have to take a cab downtown." A short twenty-five minutes later, Wife #2 was searching futilely through stacks and stacks of pillows and mats, trying to find a perfect ensemble for Nick's naked living room. "Perhaps I can help you if you'll just tell me what you're looking for." A sweet-faced young woman seemed sincere in her desire to be of assistance, but Amethyst was wary after her telephone ordeal. "Black bolsters," Amethyst finally conceded, standing up and giving the woman a very forlorn look. "Do you have any?" "Of course." The saleswoman gave Amethyst a bright smile. " They're in our specialty room." Amethyst followed the woman to a back room and there, indeed, were black cushions. Velvet, brocade, silk and satin, in every shade from muted ebony to raven shine. Amethyst couldn't help gasping in delight. "You wouldn't believe the number of calls we have for the darker shades." The clerk smiled as Amethyst began poking at and inspecting the wares. Amethyst grinned at the woman, while choking back a giggle. "Yes . . . yes I would." After a few moments search, Amethyst found the perfect cushions to compliment Nick. With a smile, she turned and advised the clerk. "I'll take five of the big ones and ten of the matching small ones, please." "Those are sell-off stock," the saleswoman informed the Wife. "I can give you a ten percent discount if you can take them with you today." The ever thrifty Wife felt her face falling. "I . . . I don't have a vehicle. Can I pay for them and pick them up later?" "Not and get the discount." The clerk remained firm. Amethyst's mind began to figure the difference in the retail and the discount price. She *really* wanted that discount. "What do you mean, no refunds?" a familiar voice yelped from the main display area. A big grin spread across the Knightie-wife's face. With a quick turn and flip of her long tresses, Amethyst strode into the adjoining room and stood, hands on hips, watching the ranting addict. "Look," Patt said, trying her best to be reasonable with the shady looking gentleman who was listening attentively. "I *have* to return these pillows . . . they're the wrong shade of peach and the guy who instructed me to bring them back and secure the 'proper hint of blush,'" Patt mimicked LaCroix with surprising deftness, "isn t known for taking *no can do* for an answer. "No can do," Mohead replied, crossing his hands across his chest and looking down at the addict. "I can give you a substitution, as long as the return is undamaged, but no refunds." Patt s face piqued into a look of disdain. "Look, Moron . . ." "Mohead," the merchant corrected, his eyes narrowing just a bit. "Whatever," Patt said, her voice nearing frustration level four. "An exchange is fine . . . if you have the right color. Just show me your wares, okay?" "Show me the returns first, please . . . all of them," Mohead said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "There will be no business conducted between us if you are trying to return pillows you have already drooled upon." Patt opened her mouth to respond, none to kindly, when she was interrupted by a soft cough behind her. Whirling, she found a smiling Knightie . . . a smiling Knightie who was having an extremely hard time not to bust a gut laughing. "Having problems, Patt?" Amethyst said the words slowly, enjoying watching the NA squirm just a little. "None that I can't handle," the Louisiana addict retorted. "What are you doing here? Restocking the Harem?" Amethyst smiled sweetly. "Such witty repartee. I live for our War encounters, you know. Such a wonderful opportunity for us to share our collective vocabularies and educated articulating." "Huhhhh?" "I love chatting with you," Amethyst grinned. "But what I really need is a lift. My van is elsewhere and I have some cushions of my own to deliver. If I get this pillow problem of yours solved for you, will you tote me and my purchase back to Harem headquarters?" "Errrr, sure," Patt agreed skeptically. "What do you think you can do to *solve my problem* that I can t do?" "Use some charm," Amethyst grinned, turning toward Mohead. "You've hung around LaCroix so long that intimidation is the only skill you possess. That and whining . . . " "Hey . . ." Patt began, but Wife#2 was already in negotiations with the cushion merchant. And, before you could say *Nick s eyes are red, cause LaCroix's not dead,* Amethyst and Patt were loading peach . . . errrr, blush and black brocade and satin cushions into the back of Patt's maroon pickup truck. The two women climbed into the cab of the truck and pulled away from the store, heading toward the Harem. "This will give you a good opportunity to get directions to our headquarters," Amethyst commented happily. She was obviously delighted with her successful purchase . . . so delighted that Patt found her positively nauseating. "You are coming to our party, of course." Patt glanced from the road to the Wife. "Don t make me barf." Amethyst winced, looking hurt. Then she grinned. "I hear LaCroix might be there . . . to see Nick." Patt paled. "And you think that would be reason for me to *want* to attend. Get real." Amethyst laughed and the two women rode in silence for several minutes. "You know," Patt said casually, "I'm kind of surprised at your cushion color choice. Aren't they a little *dark* for the Harem- ites? I thought you were Lightie Knighties." "Actually," Amethyst said, letting the word hang in the air for dramatic effect. "Most of the Harem are Dark Knighties. Or at least, lean that way. I know Wife #1 loves her Nicky dark and biting." "I bet she's not crazy about his mortality illness then, is she?" Patt glanced at Amethyst for a reaction. Amethyst ignored Patt, and returned to the prior discussion. "The cushions are not for the Harem, anyway," Amethyst chided the other woman. "They're for Nick. Someone pilfered his sofa last war, and they're to replace it until we get it back. She looked sternly at the NA member. You wouldn't know anything about the theft of Nick s couch, would you? Patt blinked innocently. No way, ma'am. I was too busy crawling through tunnels and cleaning debris out of the Shrine to mess with Nickie's lounger. "That's good to know," Amethyst said, satisfied. She could tell when Patt was lying and, for once, the addict was telling the truth. To Amethyst's surprise, Patt made a sudden right turn. "You're going the wrong way, the Wife advised the other woman." "I know, but I gotta make a pit stop at CERK," Patt stated. Amethyst rolled her eyes in mock disgust and Patt quickly added, "I promised Lavalianna a carrot. Gotta keep one of the Cousinly War Leader's burro happy." Patt braked the truck in front of the radio station and hopped out. "Won't be long," she promised, the turned and bounced up the station steps. Amethyst leaned back into the truck seat and closed her eyes, resting. It was weird being this close to CERK, but she doubted anyone would bother her. They'd all recognize Patt's truck and would probably not even take a closer look to see who might be sitting in it. A noise outside, a shuffling and chorus of *oommmmppfffs* caught the Wife's attention and she turned her head slightly to the right so that she could see what the commotion was. What she saw made her slink quickly down into her seat. There, leaving the backdoor of CERK, was a group of individuals carrying a long black piece of furniture. "Nick's couch!" Amethyst whispered aloud, her green eyes widening. She watched as the workmen loaded said sofa into a nondescript white van, climbed in after it and sped away. Amethyst craned her neck to note the license plate of the fleeing van, but the angle was wrong. Her eyes did, however, catch sight of Patt s keys, dangling where the addict had left them in the ignition. Without hesitation, Wife#2 scooted across the bench seat and positioned herself under the steering wheel. With a roar, the truck's engine turned over and Amethyst was in pursuit of Nick's property. As she turned the corner, Amethyst did glance once into the rear view mirror, and noted a despairing Third Cousin standing on the steps of CERK, watching the vehicle speed away. ****************** End patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gw2o-0007QQ-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 23:05:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3820; Tue, 17 Aug 99 23:03:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2823; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 23:03:38 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 06:06:47 +0300 Reply-To: dce@dlc.fi Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: dce Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Aftershocks (02/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8df0fe52148d5e1c2dbea439fd049d61 WAR: Ravenettes: Aftershocks 02/? by Claudia Date: 14/08/99 Time: 3:00 pm Place: The Raven When Janette descended downstairs that afternoon her appearance was as impeccable as ever and she was looking only slightly paler than usual. No one could've known just by looking at her that she was actually feeling any worse for the wear because of last night's party. "This mortality thing is definitely highly overrated", she thought to herself as she reached the empty bar. Why an earth dear Nicolas would want to feel like this after every party was beyond her. But then, Nicolas had always been a dreamer and reality rarely raised it's ugly head in his dreams. No, Nicolas would probably welcome every ache and inconvenience as long as he got to be mortal again. Personally, she wasn't thrilled at this mysterious turn of events. Unlike Nicolas, she'd never had a problem with what and who she was. But she wasn't overly concerned. She hadn't seen her master for awhile but she took that as a good sign. Surely, if LaCroix would've been alarmed at this 'sickness' or whatever this was, he would've contacted his children. If there was one thing she could ever count on it was the fact that LaCroix would take care of his children. And this sudden mortality wouldn't chance that. No, she was fairly confident that this condition the community had been subjected to was only going to be a temporary one. And in the mean while, she might as well try to 'enjoy' herself, and perhaps she'd even figure out what it was that Nicolas found so compelling about this -- weakness. Giving herself a mental shake she then put aside any further thoughts of her wayward brother and reached for an empty glass. The medication she'd taken for her headache upon waking up made her thirsty. Sipping at her plain water she took a good look around the club and noticed with satisfaction that her ever faithful Raven/ettes had already cleaned up all traces of last night's party. And it seemed that someone had even returned the tapestry that had gone missing sometime during last night's activities. "Good morning, Alma." The blond had almost reached her at the bar before Janette had noticed her. Sighing silently Janette hoped that they'd all regain their immortality as soon as possible; these human senses lacked on so many levels she didn't even bother trying to list them all. "Janette." Alma nodded looking slightly haggard. She'd had a *very* good night last night but this new day was severely reminding her that she no longer had her usual stamina. Just then the front door to the Raven opened letting a generous amount of sunshine sweep the open bar area. On a reflex Alma moved behind the counter and growled at the two Ravenettes who'd just entered. She even flashed some fang until she remembered that she no longer had fangs to flash. Well, not to the effect she was used to, anyway. Lorna and Kathy, who'd been chatting happily, stopped dead on their tracks at the sight of Janette and Alma. While the Ravenettes knew that sunlight couldn't harm the ex-vampires, they also knew that several of the Raven's dwellers were still extremely uncomfortable with the idea of exposing themselves to it. Old habits died hard. "Sorry", Kathy said sheepishly behind her load of bags and parcels. The shopping trip she and Lorna had indulged in had gone *very* well indeed. Janette, who'd stood her ground, nodded a little and kept her tone even. "Just close the door, Kathy." When the offending light had been closed out she turned to Alma. "Why don't you go and get something for your headache and then go help Miklos with the restocking orders." Narrowing her eyes a bit Alma nodded her consent, but didn't leave without one last quiet growl sent towards the two poor Ravenettes. ******* Claudia had been sightseeing with LeeAnn earlier during the day and they had just returned back to the Raven a half an hour ago. Her feet were still killing her, and she could only be grateful that she'd kept to ginger ale the whole of last night or she'd be in an even worse shape right now. As she exited her room, ready to check if anyone was still downstairs, she run into a not too happy looking Alma. "Good morning", she greeted the blond carefully. "What's so good about it?" Alma snarled. Taken aback, Claudia retreated a few steps. Even if Alma no longer was a vampire she thought it would pay to be careful; one never could be too sure about Alma. "Nothing, I guess", Claudia mumbled and continued silently, 'especially since it's already way after noon'. As she then tried to pass the irate ex-vampire she was halted by a firm grip on her arm. Feeling a shiver run down her spine Claudia turned back to face Alma again. Idly, she wondered if it would do her any good to yell for help. "You're a mortal", Alma began by stating the glaringly obvious. "Do you have anything for a *really* bad headache?" A hangover. And a bad one. Claudia got the gist of the problem quickly enough, and nodded in response. She still remembered her own unfortunate tequila incident not too long ago back in Helsinki, and felt a tiny wave of sympathy towards the other woman. "Yeah, I've got just the thing. Come on", she said heading back to her room. She poured two white pills on Alma's palm and fetched her a glass of water. "Try to drink as much water as you can stomach today, it should help a bit. But I'm afraid the only thing that's really gonna help is rest and time." "How -- comforting." Alma's tone still held enough ice in it to cause a freeze burn. "You're welcome", Claudia said, trying not to sound too sweet. She didn't think a little gratitude or at least some civility on Alma's part was too much to ask for. Well, she'd done all she could for the grouchy-one and she'd just as soon not be graced by her presence for any longer. "Well, I was just on my way downstairs..." she said, heading towards the door. "Wait." She stopped at Alma's command. "Do you know where Miklos is?" Claudia shook her head. "I think most of you guys are still asleep. I've only seen a few Raven/ettes today." When Alma made no comment Claudia shrugged a little and turned to leave, again. Just as she she exited the room she heard Alma's voice. "Thank you." Trying to tamper down her smile Claudia paused for a moment. "You're welcome." And this time she actually meant it. -- Claude *NA**NatPacker**N&NPacker**HB* http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/index.html From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GwWs-0000pf-00; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 23:36:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4124; Tue, 17 Aug 99 23:34:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5995; Tue, 17 Aug 1999 23:34:41 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 23:35:27 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: UF: Another Day, A Nother Party (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c499b498d8f9c337503450311f12bcab UF: War: Another Day, A Nother Party (1/1) By: Julia Kocich, Fenris, Susan Ellen Field, Lauren Hawes, Les GS Time: Monday afternoon and evening, August 16th Lauren wandered out to the garden, where Julia was resting her eyes. "I was online, and I was wondering ..." "Un huh?" "I thought some UFfers were supposed to attend the Raven party last Friday. But all I saw was Susan, Becky, and April leaving the Hive. I didn't really see them attending the party. What happened?" Julia's brow furrowed. Cheese, rather than honey, was one of her favorite food groups; but she disliked cheesy rationalizations. However, there were times where there was no other recourse. And this was one such. "Well .... you know how Dru and Gregor can appear to be in several places at one time? Well, per the First Law of Thermodynamics, regarding the conservation of energy ...." Lauren began to be sorry she had even raised the question. Les wandered out, blinking in the sunlight, then spotting the others, ambled over to them. Brow furrowed, her expression became more and more perplexed as she tried to get a handle on the conversation. ".... if an object *were* to inhabit several places at once, some *other* object would have to, well, inhabit no place, to keep everything from collapsing into a ... er ... singularity ..." "I'm not sure I buy that, but I know that the UFfers would have made sure the music had been better!" Lauren broke in, rescuing them all. Les nodded, relieved to have finally understood something, then asked, "You mean at the Ravenettes' do? I think the *idea* was for the music to offend. Otherwise they would have played stuff like the extremely FK Depressed Mode Ultra album, or Sarah McLachlan's Fumbling Toward Ecstasy with Possession or any number of Sting albums or Nine Inch Nail's Closer--" "Nine Inch Nails!!??" Julia said, with distaste. Scowling, Les stuck an unlit cigar between her teeth, going for her Churchill imitation. "So I'm a vulgar plebe. Sue me." Julia opened her mouth to comment and Lauren went for a flanking maneuver. "So, are the UFfers gonna be no-shows for the Nothers party, as well?" "Not if I can help it!" replied the Cobra, with a glint in her gimlet eye. ~~ That evening: Cleo opened the closet to get her black leather jacket. The petite redhead stood on her toes to reach it. She wanted to look her best for the Nothers party. Putting the jacket on over her black-and-gold ballgown, she felt something in the pocket. Before she could investigate it, she heard Susan yell out, "Come on, Cleo, we're all ready to go!" Only Tyb and Perry heard the slight moan as they bounded down the stairs to join the party-goers. Dogs and humans alike piled into several cars and drove away. Cujo, Susan's chihuahua, was too distressed to notice the sound the Hive made. He had been dressed in a tux, and the cummerbund was killing him. ~~ A short time later, the gregarious group of UFfers arrived at the Chateau des Autres. Nine UFers gathered around their parked vehicles and stared at the Chateau, bemused. "Do they run tours of this place on the weekends? It's HUGE..." muttered April in slightly begrudging admiration. Cleo played with her single thin waist-length braid, staring at the vast structure. "When they said Chateau, I was thinking maybe like a country house, or a hunting lodge kind of thing...wow." "It's a castle," Becky amended. "A real one, I think. That looks like very old stone--I'll bet it was brought over from Europe." Laurey nodded, and said, "Yeah, there's one of these back in Gloucester, Hammond Castle. But that's about one third the size of this...this is just unbelievable. Look at those grounds. Do they actually own this place? I had no idea Donald Trump was a Nother." Shan snorted in amusement. "Betcha Nick dug into the Brabant Foundation checking account and bought it for Nat in a fit of guilt over something." "That would be a nice bit of irony, considering the Nothers' basic philosophy," Julia said dryly. "Well, shall we?" "April, do you think they give out maps at the front door?", Susan asked, falling into step beside her friend. Laurey and Julz exchanged looks, nodded in agreement and spoke in unison. "Beer. Now." The group of UFfers made their way toward the massive double-doors that formed the main entrance to the Chateau. Presence found Fleurette, introduced herself, and handed her a Pooh Bear rattle as the UF's gift to her incipient baby. They mingled with the other guests during the illuminations, gasping with the rest of the crowd as the multi-colored lights danced and shimmered across the lawn. Harry the Magician delighted everyone with clever sleight-of-hand tricks, producing with a flourish a honey stick from behind every Uffer's ear. And Julia managed to chat with Natalie. When some of the others later expressed amazement, Julia shrugged and said, simply, "Hey, Nat's cool." Laurey agreed. "Where is she? I can swap rude ambulance stories with her if she's in the mood. I had a housemate who was a paramedic." "Just go easy on your list of available males she might be interested in, OK? This is a party, not an intervention," Julia called after her as Laurey went off in search of Nat, while Perry chased after rabbits and owls in the woods beyond the expanse of the lawn. "Okay! Hold still, everyone!" said April, aiming her camera at the happy group of UFfers. "Say `Honey Sticks!' " They all gave their biggest grins, including Cujo, who knew he cut a striking figure in the tux! "Good idea," laughed Julia. "In case Dru is appearing in two places at once tonight, at least we'll have some proof to show the Nothers that we really had attended their party, no matter how briefly!" The party was a great success. Tyb had been restrained from diving into the chip dip; Cujo had been mollified by the comments he got about his outfit; Perry had not brought Screed back across. As for the human UFfers, they had thoroughly enjoyed the company, the illumination, and the magic show. "We really should actually try to show up at the parties we RSVP to," said Julia, to no one in particular. The weather was chilly when they left the party. Jules, who was on her motorcycle, bummed Cleo's leather jacket to keep her warm. ~~~ "So how was it? Did you have a good time?" asked Les of the group when they trundled back into the Hive. "Oh, it was terrific!" said Presence, and went on to describe the evening. "And how was your evening, Les?" asked Julia. "Okay, although I could swear the house ... shivered a few times." It's the carbon monoxide from all those cigars, thought Julia. "I didn't know we had ghosts." "It does seem to have stopped. It was probably just the water lines." The group soon dispersed, each to their own room. Jules emptied her pockets onto the dresser, and went online. Distracted, she didn't even notice as a rat scuttled onto the dresser, and after a small but quiet struggle, got its jaws around the brass-scrolled shiney, pretty thingy and dove away toward the wainscotting. Fin From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Gx4U-00027t-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 00:11:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4360; Wed, 18 Aug 99 00:05:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9040; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 00:05:11 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 21:16:37 EDT Reply-To: LdyofSable@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Lee Subject: War: NA:This Is Some Rescue... To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ee3025cd41329462af0e447bdde3f9fc Title: NA: This Is Some Rescue... Toes (1/1) Time: Late afternoon, Tues. (after "Cal's Palace") Place: The Sacred NA Stables By Jennifer Lee and Cousin Tserisa * * * * * * Luke and Cousinly Leader Tser, the 1/3 of Cerberus, were busily scrubbing away at the wood of the Sacred Stable box stalls. Actually, what looked like busy scrubbing and polishing was only a decoy. In reality, they were applying the olive oil Luke had been using on Jennifer's saddle to the exposed beams of the stall. Once they'd achieved a reasonably decent temporary shine, the two slunk into the stall to plot. "Okay, you remember what to do, right?" Luke asked anxiously. "Yes. What, do you think I'm brain-dead or something?" Tser grumped. She wasn't usually so irritable, but being kidnapped didn't bide well with her. Luke shrugged. "With mortals, you can never tell." "Same thing goes for vampires, and EX-vampires," the Cousin shot back. "In fact, in a lot of cases I've found them to be more dim than anyone else." "You watch your mouth, missy, or I'll just leave you to do Jennifer's bidding." "My people will come for me!" Tserisa insisted. "My General will come for me! Especially after the way Jennifer treated him." "Ah, but your General is as mortal as me, I'll wager, or he'd have come for you by now." "You've no idea the resources a Cousin possesses... droves of Cousins, skilled agents, a fully functional dungeon, an impressive Cousinly Sound System...." "Can it!" Luke hissed. "Here she comes. Get ready." Tser huffed and glared at him for a second, then relented and burrowed under the bedding of the stall. This was no easy task, as bedding is quite heavy. Luke stood, and ran out to his "emperor," his features anxious and fearful. "My master!" he cried out. "She's gone!" Jennifer/Caligula froze. "What did you say?" Luke rushed up to her, then collapsed on his knees, bowing and scraping like no one had ever bowed and scraped before. "S-she's gone, my master," he said, his voice trembling. "I-I think. There was a man here, my master. He... he took her. Said that she was his." "Oh, he did, did he?" Jen/Caligula asked, her voice low and dangerous. "What did this man look like?" "He was dressed in black, my god and emperor," Luke said, rushing to get the words out. "He had short, blond hair. He was very tall." "Did the servant say anything to him?" "Yes. She called him General, my master." Jennifer/Caligula was fuming. "Prepare Incitatus for a journey, boy," she ordered. "I will find this man, and I will take back what is mine." Luke rose from the floor, and went to do her bidding, hoping that Tserisa had made her escape during the interrogation. * * * * * It was hot and muggy under the bedding, not to mention hard to breath. *Note to self*, Tser thought. *Never hide under shavings or sawdust.* The stuff filled her nostril and her mouth, if she wasn't careful. It also made it rather hard to hear. She heard Luke rush up to Jennifer as she was struggling under the bedding. Then a snatch of something like muffled talking... something about a mineral? Tser fought off the feelings of suffocation and was pondering if this was time to make a break for it. But when she tired, she found the shavings were entirely too heavy to burrow out of again. She moaned inwardly. *Oh Great Dragon no....* * * * * * Jennifer/Caligula was eager to seek out her stolen property, and the mysterious General. She paced impatiently, waiting for Luke to arrive with her advisor. Soon, she began to wander about the stalls. As she was inspecting the polishing on one of the compartments, she felt her foot thud against something soft, yet firm. "Hmmm," she mused, smiling. "What have we here? Oh, Lu-uke?" * * * * * Tser groaned as toe connected with her stomach, though she doubt anyone heard it. She prayed to TPTB and the writers of the fic that is was Luke and he would unbury her so she could escape. Slowly the pressure lifted off her back and she rose to see Luke digging off the shavings. She smiled in relief, but her smile quickly dissipated when she saw Jennifer behind him, looking very, very wrathful. "Luke," Jen/Caligula said in a sort of terrifying calm. The calm before the comet hits. "You are now assigned to rat eradication duty. You will be given no tools and your hands will be tied behind your back, and you must catch the rats with your teeth." She quickly and deftly tied Luke's hands tightly, eliciting an "ow" and a knowing look from Tser. She then kicked him in the bottom so that he sprawled across the straw adjacent to the stalls, nose to nose with a rather amused rat that chortled in delight. Luke groaned... it even sounded like he made a little prayer. "Start now, or the consequences shall be worse! You shall work until all the rats have been eradicated!" Tser turned away, she couldn't watch. "As for you, ancilla," she said angrily, "I will not tolerate such behavior!!" "A million apologies, emperor sir," Tser gulped. "I was... trying to... find out if the shavings were good enough for your royal advisor." "What do you think I am, woman? Stupid and insane?!" *Half right...* "Oh, no, no emperor. I am but a god-and-emperor fearing servant of your mightiness...." "Crucifixion at dawn!!" Jen/Caligula screamed. She grabbed Tser by the throat and backed her up against a pole. Tser struggled to breathe, and had a flashback to War 8, in which someone else had nearly crushed her windpipe. *Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?* her mind whimpered. Jen/Cal tied Tser's hands above her heads, and Tser struggled in the uncomfortable position, her toes barely touching the floor. Jennifer/Caligula stormed off and hopped Incitatus bareback, parading back and forth in front of her servants. Tser heard the clicking of teeth behind her... obviously so far Luke hadn't made contact with rat hide. She wondered if that was on purpose... what was worse, an eternity of chasing rats on your knees using your mouth or actually *catching* one? Tser cleared her throat. "I think the plan had a few flaws," she said quietly. "Ropes do hurt," Luke said. Click, went his teeth. Tserisa recognized rat laughter when she heard it, and she heard it then. "She wants to CRUCIFY me!" "Maybe she's not as harmless as I thought," Luke apologized. *Click, click* "Maybe if we scream really loud, the NA will hear us... Patt wouldn't leave me in a situation like this! She could conk Jen on the head with a beer bottle!" "They're not there," Luke said softly. *Half-hearted click* "What do you mean they're not there? This is the SHRINE!" *Click* "They traded places with some people called Vaqueras or something." "SILENCE!" crazed Jen shrieked and thwapped at Luke's bottom with a lead rope. *The Vaqueras? Oh dear Dragon no. Didn't the Addicts even think to check the Sacred Stables before they left??* "General, anyone, if you hear me... please heed my call for help," Tser pleaded under her breath. "Free me from this Nunkies Worshipper gone insane and deliver me from the Vaqueras." Tser finished and hung unfomortably. It was going to be a long, long night. ---------- Jennifer ldyofsable@aol.com From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GxAj-0005bh-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 00:17:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6361; Wed, 18 Aug 99 00:15:45 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0031; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 00:15:46 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 00:15:54 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Just a 'Nother long day 01/02 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f5623376371d3dc9c947c5d67f51b7a3 NA: Just a 'Nother long day 01/02 by Patt Elmore When: Tuesday, after "Cushioned for Impact," with Flashbacks to Monday events Where: Everywhere but the Shrine Everyone used with permission ??? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "My truck!" Patt stood on the stairs of CERK, watching the maroon Chevrolet pickup disappear as it rounded a corner. The fast turn did produce an intriguing result--one of the new blush colored cushions flew out the back from under the camper shell. "You get those dirty, Amethyst," Patt shouted, shaking her fist, " and I'll . . . I'll . . . I'll get you!!" Of course the Harem wife was long gone. As was the truck. And the pillows. And Patt's tote canvas bag (she detests purses, too). And that awful cell phone. The mature addict looked back at the CERK entrance, knowing that she could go in there and seek help. But, then Patt would have to admit that she'd arrived at the Cousinly Headquarters with a sub-Knightie in tow. That would definitely not look good on the Third Cousin's resume. As Patt considered options, the events of the past several hours permeated her thoughts . . . ***Nickie Flashback Moment After Fred had convinced Patt that attending the Nother's party would offer her respite from angst-asserting activities at the Shrine, the mature addict went in search of appropriate clothing. Patt would never be mistaken for a Ravenette, as her taste in clothes never went past the K-Wal T-shirt shelves, unless it was for work attire. The Third Cousin understood that the Nothers party was casual, but not slouchy, and as she respected Fleurette and her efforts to provide a home for her little brood, Patt decided to *clean up.* Since the garments housed in the Sacred Wardrobe Room had been demolished by the jack hammer incident, Patt had to improvise. Finding apparel ultimately fell to a raiding of addict suitcases. (This was done, of course, while everyone else was out doing whatever they were doing. Privacy to purloin was a must. ) "Christy took from me, so I can take from Christy." Patt verbally justified her actions as she pulled a rather expensive looking undergarment from the other addict's bag. As she looked at the slinky black thing, Patt felt the shudder of prior war memory flooding over her. Something about Vaqueras and girdles came to mind. She quickly stuffed the undies back into Christy's bag. Patt continued poking around in the addict luggage, finding odds and ends which, when properly placed, would give an air of dignity, if not color coordination. A stick pin here, a ring there, a feathered riding cap carefully returned to its owner-- Patt was having more fun exploring her NA sisters' stuff than a trip to the mall. Having exhausted the offerings in the Altar room, Patt decided to check the anterooms-turned-bedchambers. She went to Jules' first, but everything turned out to be waaaayyy too slinky for Patt's tastes. Same in the NunkMommy's quarters, except for a black velvet boa, which Patt lifted with only momentary guilt. As it were, Bons' room turned out to be a treasure trove. Gone were the stacks and stacks and stacks and . . . well, you get the idea . . . of non-sensible shoes, so navigating the room for actual *clothing* was almost a breeze. "Bingo!!" Patt cried in triumph, pulling out an entire suitcase of scarves. There was a rainbow of them. A virtual sea of cloth in every shade that Crayola could imagine, and then some. Patt extricated two of the larger offerings and tied them together, resulting in a rather attractive sarong effect. And, thusly, Patt was attired for the Nothers' party. At least for the start of it, anyway. Arriving fashionably late at 8:07, with Caren, Supaige and Jesse in tow, Patt enjoyed the grand tour of the Chateau. The foursome later sat among the audience, ready to enjoy the magic show, until Patt found herself part of the performance. "How the heck does Fleurette expect me to squeeze into this?" Patt had complained to one of her stage companions, holding up a fist-sized piece of sequined material. "You'd think that being pregnant would give her more sympathy to us bloated types." "You're not bloated . . ." the other woman began. "Oh . . . hush and go float," Patt snapped. The actual performance was rather fun, but after the show, Patt's mouth was exceedingly dry--almost as if she'd been chewing on paper. She excused herself early and headed back to the Shrine. Upon arriving, Kriel had a stack of invoices waiting for her signature. He complained once again about rats, tools, incompetent and off-tune temp help, etc. Then, he added a new twist to the plot. "Did you know you have bugs?" Patt's grimaced. "Bugs?" "Yeah," the ex-vampire said, looking around as if he was prepared to swat something. "They might be termites. They have wings and have been buzzing my crew since we got into a pocket of them on the second floor." "Oh . . . where was that pocket, by the way?" "Some little cove off the room marked . . ." he consulted his floor plan . . . "*Scribe squat.* Little annex called *Fairy Dusting Room.*" "I always wondered where they stayed," Patt said happily. Then, she remembered something about nose and mouth mucous and added. "You might want to wall that spot back in, Kriel." The foreman frowned. "Why?" "Because those are some mean little hornets you've stirred up." "Like I'm afraid of some pests," Kriel sneered. "If you won't do something about them, I will. I won't have my men, and dame, bugged by your bugs." "Suit yourself," Patt shrugged. Then she had heard quite a bit of tittering in the other room, and gone to investigate. She had found a group of addicts, including the Scribe, ogling a bunch of whammied ex-vamp construction men in various states of upper undress. The hot, sweaty, masculine bodies had gleamed in the glow of the work lights as they had lifted arms to swig Diet Coke . Being a child of the sensuous generation which spawned such advertising technique, Patt gave herself a choice moment to breathe in deep of the beef- flesh, then broke up the party. The mature one had soon after retired to her bed, clutching Fred the Min Pin close. She had a list of errands to run in the morning, which she'd been putting off since Christy and crew had put a dent in the Platinum card. She would have to get up very early, early in the morning if she got everything done that she planned to. Sometime before dawn's light and after the sound of brick mortaring ceased, Patt's eyes flew open in shock. She had a flashback within a flashback, remembering Jennifer's unfortunate accident and her sudden identification with Claudius' nephew. Or was it cousin? Gotta go read Graves again . . . Patt decided to do a quick head count of the slumbering addicts and, sure enough, Jen was missing. Not good. The Third Cousin scratched a note and put it where she knew the Scribe would surely find it--taped to her little yellow beeper. Still half-asleep herself, Patt didn't even stop to wonder why the beeper was laying by the hall telephone. Patt just wanted the Scribe to locate and take care of Jennifer while she finished her chores. The Third Cousin was heading toward the showers, carefully tip-toeing so as not to awaken the sleeping NA's. She was almost through the labyrinth of cots and mattresses when she noted something shiny on the floor. Patt assumed, reaching for the object. The *contact lens,* however, was attached to a chain which was attached to a sleeping Dragon. Still stooped, Patt examined the object. It looked an awful lot like Monica's pendent. Knowing Dragon habits, Patt successfully concluded that Sallie had heisted the jewel so, with utmost care, Patt untangled the gold rope from Dragon's scaly fingers and went to return it to it's proper owner. Patt peered around. Most of the addicts had their covers drawn over their heads--not so much due to cold, but so as to muffle noise. Patt looked for evidence of brown hair with unusual red highlights. Several strands matched that description, so Patt picked the one that looked best and dropped the necklace on the corresponding pillow. And, of course, it wasn't Monica's pillow. Patt would never know that when the addicts arose, Arymede, the Sherwood Nunksister and resident Evil Freshman, would wake up, find the jewel on her pillow and begin wondering about secret admirers--and think of Erik. For showered and ready to tackle anything, Patt had fed Fred, then loaded up the LaCroix loathed *orange* cushions, determined to get the *proper hint of blush* ones before Conversion Day. And, that had led to the encounter with Amethyst, which led to the theft of the truck, which . . . ****** Ends the Nickie flashback. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 01/02 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GxKd-0002jz-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 00:28:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4491; Wed, 18 Aug 99 00:24:49 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0624; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 00:24:49 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 23:16:42 -0500 Reply-To: Amy Reed Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Amy Reed Subject: War: Harem: Friday the 13th, what other day could it be? (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fe5e98e7b92183244e8e3a0226856a92 Title: Friday the 13th, what other day could it be? (3/3) by: Randora, Nick's Harem, Wife #1 Date: Friday, August 13, 1999 Time: 12:15pm ET After: Harem: Friday the 13th, what othr day could it be? (2/?) Before: Harem: It's a Battle to the Death! Randora and DragonLady threw DL's carryon into the van and headed away from the airport. "How was your trip?" Randora asked. DragonLady grimaced and said, "Don't ask." Randora glanced briefly at her and said, "That good, eh?" DragonLady snorted in reply. "Would you like to go straight to headquarters or take a side trip for some shopping?" Randora asked. DragonLady started slightly, "Shopping?" she asked with an eager tone in her voice. Randora laughed, "I take that as a yes to shopping." DragonLady eagerly nodded, "There's a few things I need to pick up." "Okay, let's go." Randora turns onto Youge and headed for the shops. 4pm After a few pleasant hours spent shopping (with only a few mishaps here and there), DragonLady and Randora start toward headquarters. A short distance later, Randora remembered she was to pick up some food and other supplies. Two hours later they once more head for headquarters. DragonLady was still laughing and gasped, "I can't believe you knocked over a bag of salt, spilling it all over the floor." Randora frowned, "They really shouldn't put stuff like that so close to the edge of the shelf." "And the apples?" "I'm surprised they stack them that high," she retorted as she recalled the cascade of apples going everywhere after she had picked one off the pile. After driving around for awhile, DragonLady noticed they seemed to be going in circles, "Randora?" she started tentatively, "Weren't we here a bit ago?" Randora nodded grimly, "You noticed. I think we're lost." By this time it had grown dark and they weren't even close to anyplace that was open. Suddenly, Randora saw something that caused her to slam on the brakes. She winced as she heard a crash. They got out and saw the front bumper rocking where it had landed. They looked at each other and then DragonLady said, "Well, look on the bright side. You didn't hit the cat." The both turned to look at the cat that had darted out in front of them. A beautiful black cat stared back at them, then took off down an ally. Randora looked at the bumper and sighed, "Amethyst is going to kill me." She shook her head, "Let's see if we can get it into the van." After much effort, they had the bumper in the back and were once more on their way. They had only driven a block when all of a sudden the van sputtered then died. "What now?" Randora questioned exasperated. She looked down at the gas gauge and groaned. "What's wrong?" "No gas." "No gas?" "No gas." DragonLady said a word that does not belong on a PG-13 list and so did Randora. Randora pulled out her cell phone, which gave them both hope, until she tried to call for help. That's when she noticed the battery was dead. Randora said another word I can't repeat here. The two of them sat in stunned silence a few moments. "You know that the ice cream is melting, right? Not to mention other stuff we have in here." DragonLady said. "Yeah, I know. Do you happen to have any change for a payphone?" "Canadian change? No." Randora sighed, "I was afraid you were going to say that. I don't have any either." "We're stuck, right?" "Afraid so. Want some ice cream?" Between them, they ate two gallons of ice cream (waste not, want not) and drank a gallon of milk. Luckily, they had picked up a can of Quik (tm) to mix into it. The milk that is, not the ice cream. Finally, they managed to fall asleep. Saturday, Aug. 14, 1999 5:30am The rising sun woke them. Well, it was either that or the cop knocking on the window of the van. After explaining their problem, the officer took them to a nearby gas station and then back to the van. A short time later, they were headed to Harem Headquarters. 7:00am This time, they finally made it. As they pulled up, they see a van with Airline markings on it. DragonLady jumps out the door and rushes to check on her luggage. Randora was holding onto her temper by a thin thread. She got out and trudged up to the door. She opened the door and froze at the sight that met her eyes. DragonLady stopped beside her. They stood there taking in the activity. *Fin* YFITK, Amy Knightie; Dark Knightie; GWDFC Number-One-Wife & Listowner of Nick's Harem; B.R.I.C.K. Listowner: FK-XStitcher -- "Cross-Stitcher of the Knight" fknight@acnet.net fknight@cyberweb.org - TexDKnght (IRC) Forever Knight Web Site: http://forever-knight.virtualave.net My Football page: http://members.tripod.com/~ReedStuff/nfl From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GxW5-00038p-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 00:40:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2744; Wed, 18 Aug 99 00:37:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1200; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 00:37:51 -0400 Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 21:39:41 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR: Nothers: Of ratsies & Vee-Bay 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fff215ef007ba4ed192f6fc5921057cd Title: Of Ratsies & Vee-Bay" Written by: Fleurette B. Place: Chateau des Autres Time: Monday night, apres le debut du Chateau des Autres & Tuesday afternoon prior to NightDancer's "Strangers have Happened." Disclaimers: Fleurette, Liz, NightDancer & Kat by permission. The ratsies by-- well, they're *everywhere*! (** no ratsies were harmed in the making of this post) >>>>>>>>>>>>> Twas the hour after the party and all through le Chateau not one creature was stirring, just lots of ratsies, you know. This little limerick, a bastardization of "Twas the Night Before Christmas," was flitting through Fleurette's mind as she sat reviewing the events of the night. The grand opening bash ahd been a big sucess. Lots of people had showed up and had apparently enjoyed themselves, especially Natalie. Of course, Harry had lost one of his assistants, but Fleurette'd called to make certian the poor girl got home alright. Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud squeaks and shuffling of the rats she knew were hiding in her closet. The sound gave her a sudden idea. Jumping up from her chair, she rushed out of the room and down the hall. A few minutes later, she came back with a large wire cage and an economy-sized canister of cheese balls she'd "borrowed" from NightDancer's room. NightDancer wasn't there for some reason, but as long as Fleurette had known her, she'd always had cheese balls in her room. Setting the cage in her closet, she littered the floor around it with the little orange balls before throw a large handful of them into the the cage. Then she carefully rigged the door of the cage to close if were bumped in even the softest manner. Smiling to herself, she slipped off to bed. >>>>>>>>>>>>> Not long after Fleurette had drifted off to sleep, dozens of lil ratsies came to scarf up the the little balls of cheesy goodness. They came, at first, one by one, sniffing at the deliscoius food which lured them. Soon, the one or two who first espied the prize had been joined by more and more. When they had eaten the cheese balls on the floor, they noticed the rather large pile of them inside the cage. This time, however, it was not one by one, but en masse, that they went scurrying into the cage. >>>>>>>>>>>> [Tuesday, August 17th, Noon] Fleurette wandered into the foyer early in the afternoon. She expected it to be empty, but she found, instead, that NightDancer was snoring on the sofa. "So, there's where you went, you goose," she whispered. She entertained the idea to wake her friend, but decided against it. Instead, she decided to take a brisk walk through the gardens before she went upstairs to inspect her rat trap. >>>>>>>>>>>>>> [later that same day] "You want us to do *what*?" Kat and Liz asked as one. They were standing in Fleurette's bedroom suite in front of the open closet door. Inside the closet was a cage filled with disoriented rats. The two co-horts were staring alternately between the rats and their faction leader. "I want you to dye them pink," Fleurette said for the second time. "But *why*?" Kat persisted. "I refuse to do it until you tell me why!" "Because *I* can't touch the dye--chemicals, you know," Fleurette told her. "I don't think she's going to tell us, Kat," said Liz. "We may as well do it." They picked up the cage and carried it into the bathroom. Liz grabbed the dye Fleurette had bought at a store and stared at the directions. "Pour dye into hot water and stir until dissolved," she read aloud. "How are we going to do this?" Kat asked. "I mean, won't they bite?" "I suppose we could just dip the whole cage into the water," came the reply. >>>>>>>>>>>>>> While Kat and Liz were busy figuring out how to dye the rats without getting bit, Fleurette went to her office and got on-line. She hadn't yet figured out what to do with the ratsies. Perhaps she could e-mail some of her RatPacker friends. Maybe they would want pink ratsies. Before she could e-mail anyone, however, a she recieved a message from a friend, saying that someone was auctioning off the "Nunkies in Repose" tapestry on Vee-Bay. Hmmmmm....? she thought. "This gives me an idea!" Fleurette immediately went to the Vee-Bay site and logged on. Finding the tapestry in the registry, she made a bid to the tune of 25 dark pink ratsies, describing them as "house-trained and very smart." >>>>>>>>>>>> THe End Fleurette B. Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11GyTz-0005bj-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 01:41:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4735; Wed, 18 Aug 99 01:39:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3920; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 01:39:44 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 01:45:58 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: Pest Panic To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a63e73c1aa6fac83fc88856320f60b25 WAR: Independent/CGW: Pest Panic by Brenda Bell FOLLOWS: Independent/CGW: One Woman's Trash... ************************* The Fiendish Glow Office, Sunday, 15 August, 1400 Eastern Daylight Time "Rats?" asked Pen uncertain. "Here?" "Rats," Brenda frowned, looking at the hole in the box that held a gross of toilet tissue. "Mice, at least." "You're sure someone didn't just drop it on its corner?" "I'm not sure of anything right now... but it does look like rodent damage to me. Besides," she said, glancing meaningfully at Pen's now-rebandaged wrist, "how else would you explain this box *also* falling off the shelf just as you walked by?" Somehow, the arctophile didn't think her compatriot would buy the story that the vampbear had simply hopped and pushed and hopped and pushed until the box teetered over the edge, timing it to fall *just* as Pen had come through the corridor... While the vampbear was eternally hungry and frequently mischievous, even he had his limits -- "Pride of Chukky" in the plush, he wasn't. Pen gingerly felt the bottom of the box. Feeling nothing, she ran her fingers over the top of the shelf, checking also for any unevenness she might have missed two days before. The empty box suddenly jumped... and a stream of invective left her mouth as the cardboard container crashed to the floor and opened up, revealing telltale droppings inside. "Yuck!" the two women said, running for rubber gloves, bleach, water, and heavy disinfectant. "Wonder why I didn't see *that* before?" Pen asked herself. "Because you didn't look?" she asked. *Because you didn't want to see it,* she speculated. "I hope it's not evidence of rats in residence *here*," Brenda shuddered, remembering the super-rat she'd spied outside the "Glow" at the beginning of War 9. "We'll get the boys to check it for us." "Why bother them? You're not afraid of rats, are you?" her pixie-like companion asked. Brenda shuddered in place of a nod. ****************** 1600 Eastern Daylight Time "Think I have enough time to pick up a spare outfit or two?" Brenda wondered, looking at the sales advertisements in the Sunday paper. A glass of XO Remy at her side, she was finally calming down after checking 144 rolls of toilet paper for rodents and rodent damage, disposing of 83 of them, and getting the rat-dropping-infested cardboard disposed of safely. Pen looked askance at the heavier woman. "This late on a *Sunday* afternoon? In Toronto? Are you kidding? Better to look in that tacky-stuff catalog of yours, instead." Brenda garrumphed, plopped back down into her chair, opened her laptop, and turned to collect her e-mail. As she scanned the subject headers, two themes kept popping up. Devamped-vamps, and rats run rampant. It seemed that every faction's headquarters were being overrun with rats. "We need a Pied Piper," she said, to nobody in general. "A *what*?" Pen asked. Brenda turned the screen to her and pointed out the number of War messages with the words "rat" or "rats" in them. "Looks like the rats are invading Toronto... how's our stock of rodenticide?" "You want to kill those poor, harmless, innocent little rats?" Pen asked sarcastically. "How do *you* feel about scorpions sharing your bed with you?" her faction-mate asked the desert dweller. "Touche," she replied, as Brenda picked up the phone and began to dial. "Who ya callin'?" she asked. "City Department of Sanitation. I want to know why they haven't been putting out poison bait to *kill* the little health hazards." "On a Sunday afternoon?" "Believe me, city sanitation is a 24/7 proposition. Especially up here. You can bet your sweet @$$ that if it snowed, the streets'd be clear within 2-4 hours. On a Sunday. There's absolutely no reason they shouldn't take rat problems that seriously." ******This is the Toronto Department of Sanitation. Our hours are Monday through Friday from eight AM to four PM. Please call back then. If you are calling with respect to an immediate sanitation emergency, please call (***)-555-3548. Thank you, and have a good day. ****** (1) "Grrrrr," Brenda growled, hanging up and dialing the proffered emergency number. ******This is the Toronto Department of Sanitation Emergency Line. If you are calling to report a sanitation emergency, please press '1' now. If you are calling to enquire about garbage pick-up and recycling schedules, please call (***)-555-8756. For all other enquiries, please call our main office at (***)-555-1245 any time Monday through Friday between the hours of 8:30 AM and 3:30 PM. Thank you, and have a good day. ****** Brenda pressed "1" and waited for someone to pick up. ******This is a recording. All our operators are busy. Please stay on the line; your call will be answered in the order it was received. Your current number in line is: 4537901 If you hang up now, you will lose your place in the line. Approximate waiting time is now: five days, six hours, and forty-seven minutes *BEEP* ****** "@#$%&^*&^*&%^#%$%$&^*^%$%#$$#@%$@#$#@#!!!!!!!!!!!!" Brenda growled, slamming down the receiver loudly enough to wake the dead. The formerly-*un*dead were, for good or ill, already awake and cruising around. Grabbing her laptop, she typed and moused furiously for a while, bringing up no fewer than two dozen browser windows before reaching for the phone and dialing. ******This is the New York City Department of Sanitation. Our hours are Monday through Friday from nine AM to five PM. Please call back then. *CLICK* ****** "AAAArrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!" Brenda slammed the phone down yet *again*, before switching to another open window and dialing another phone number. ******This is the New York City Department of Health, Bureau of Pest Control. Our hours are Monday through Friday from nine AM to five PM. Please call back then. If you are calling about a rat problem, we invite you to visit our Web-based FAQ at http://www.ci.nyc.ny.us/html/doh/html/pest/pest.html *CLICK* ****** (2) "GGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" the woman exploded, practically demolishing the receiver as she slammed it full-force into the telephone. "Can't even call anyone for their list of recommended pesticides on a weekend!!!!!!" "Here." Pen reached over the other woman, pressed a few keys on the keyboard, and entered. In less than a minute, Abode Acrivat loaded up and deciphered a site with information on traps, trap use, baits, and poisons, and how to make one's abode *very* unpleasant for rodents. Fortunately, most of the precautions described were already in place, from the metal and glass storage containers to the clean, bleached-and-disinfected floors, to the metal door guards... Unfortunately, there was always the dumpster outside -- and there is no such thing as "perfectly rodent free" once the little buggers start coming around. The two women searched supplier after supplier on the Web, coming to one conclusion: the only chemicals, baits, and traps that were *guaranteed* to work on the pests were illegal in the province of Ontario. The two women did the only thing they could. They went to the control room to call a staff conference. ************************************* Notes and resources: (1) None of the phone messages are real. (2) This is a real page at the NYC DoH/Bureau of Pest Control's Web site. They are the folk who are responsible for de-ratting NYC. Related resources: ------------------- Pest Management Regulatory Agency (located in Ottawa): Phone 1-800-267-6315. Web page http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca/pmra-arla A guide to rodent control in Canada can be found in Adobe Acrobat Portable Document Format at http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca/main/hc/web/pmra-arla/rats-e.pdf New York City Department of Health, Bureau of Pest Control has a page on how not to attract rats at http://www.ci.nyc.ny.us/html/doh/html/pest/ratno.html >From another page on the NYC site: "Just trying to kill them all with poison never works. If there s real food around, the rats won t even eat the poison. And even if they re all killed, more rats from nearby move in right away. The only way to keep rats away is to take away their food, water, a and shelter. "We have worked out a plan to take away the things rats need to live. We're inspecting every building and lot on every street in each targeted neighborhood. For every condition that helps rats, we give out a notice of violation like a traffic ticket and send a letter to the landlord or owner of the building or lot requiring him or her to correct the problem. "Ten days later, we inspect again. If nothing has been done, the city cleans away all the garbage that rats eat, and the junk and litter that rats make their homes in, and then exterminates. The owner or landlord has to pay the bill. "At the same time, we're also going after the rats in the sewers, parks and other open spaces. "After about four months in a neighborhood, we should be finished cleaning the rats out. We will have done all we can do to keep them from coming back." An interesting piece on rats in Canada: http://www.nextcity.com/main/town/10urban.htm *************************************************** Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Wed Aug 18 06:41:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H0Wp-0000k4-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 03:53:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5121; Wed, 18 Aug 99 03:50:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9466; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 03:50:54 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 00:57:13 -0700 Reply-To: "Laura K. Griffin" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Laura K. Griffin" Subject: WAR: DP: Bidding Bits 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 85e2ffacd81fb94c632ce706205d5957 WAR: DP: Bidding Bits 01/01 by Laura Griffin Time: August 17, Tuesday afternoon, evening Place: Dark Perk Mansion Too much caffeine, stress, and not enough real sleep makes Laura.... well...unpleasant to be around, and so she'd been hiding out in her room. Her son had disappeared earlier that morning with a group of other teenage thugs. Laura paused as she remembered that the other five teens were female. "Hmmm....no wonder he was smiling so much!" Her train of thought was interrupted (and for John-Travis, that was probably a good thing!) by the computer. She'd set the timer to remind her to check Vee-Bay regularly. Highest Bid: 25 dark pink ratsies, house-trained/very smart Bidder: fleurettebrabant@xxxxxxxx.xxx The Dark CERK Perk let out a frustrated sigh. "What?! I got outbid again? And by rats? This is...this is...." She couldn't think clearly about what it was, but she knew it was bad. For her, anyway. She put her head down on her desk, covered her eyes, and tried to think about what the DPs could do with that kind of dark pink rodentia. And that's when her body decided it was time to sleep. **** An hour or so passed before Laura was awakened by some skirmish in the hallway. She looked up at the computer screen and hit 'refresh,' then waited for the Vee-Bay page to reload. "Mom! I need you downstairs!" John-Travis' voice beckoned from the stairway outside in the hall. "Can it wait a sec?" "Well...I kind of need to talk to you. It's about the caddy." John-Travis' voice sounded a bit strained, and Laura had a sudden sick feeling in the pit of her stomach at the mention of the caddy. Premonition? Maybe. Or it could have just been a convenient bit of string cheese to finish up this post and distract the DP Thug from the monitor. We'll go with the latter. It's faster that way. "Consider me there!" she said as made her way out of her room and headed downstairs. The computer monitor sat quietly and waited for her return, still glowing with the latest bid on the Nunkies in Repose tapestry: Highest Bid: The General's weight in Godiva truffles Bidder: Lotka@mindsprung.com. -------Looking for a new wall hanging for your headquarters? Bid now!-------- Cousin Laura -- The Dark CERK Perk http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Portal/6866/Laura.htm "Even though you're refracted, you're still you." -- 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile' From - Wed Aug 18 06:51:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H3Hs-0001nB-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 06:49:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5524; Wed, 18 Aug 99 06:47:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5618; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 06:47:39 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 06:49:24 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: The Road to Carrumba (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e12ef39b0bacb8fa5c8c6075ec205578 WAR: NA: The Road to Carrumba (01/01) Place: The Roads of TO Time: Just a little after "Mi Casa Es Su Casa" With Bons, Jules, Devo, Watson and Fred By Cousin Jules ************************ Bons and Jules hoisted themselves - along with Fred, Devo and Watson - into the Jeep and buckled themselves in, Bons in the back with Watson and Devo, and Fred in the passenger seat. One would normally expect that the engine would start next. Instead, Jules just sat there, silent. She turned to look at Fred, resplendent in his "Rat Patrol" t-shirt. Fred turned his tiny head to meet the HP's gaze. The two exchanged a knowing look, then, simultaneously, turned around to face the Scribe. "Whadda I say?? Whadda I say?!" Bons quipped as Jules raised a plucked eyebrow. "What did you say?" said Jules in reply. "I think the fact that we're sitting in this Jeep, with all our worldly - well, 'Shrinely' - possessions kinda answers that question, don't you?" Bons noticeably shrank to half her size, causing Fred and Watson to bark in surprise, while Devo's ears spread wide. "Jules," Bons began in a very quiet voice, "why's Fred looking at me that way?" "Oh, not to worry. That's just what he does before he pounces on something. I wouldn't get any smaller if I were you." A small "meep" sounded from the back seat. Jules turned back to face the front, resting one hand on the steering wheel as she sighed. "Take it easy, Fred," she told the MiniPin. "I'll handle this. I'm sure we're going to need you, Watson and Devo for more practical uses when we get you back to the 'Church' - and I use that term loosely - where someone so kindly found us accommodation." Spotting Jules' gaze in the rear view mirror, Bonnie shrunk an additional 10 centimetres (that's 4-1/4 inches for all you metrically challenged folk out there), at which point Jules took it on herself to crate the salivating Fred. "So, what now?" Bonnie inquired, while wondering if she couldn't sleep in the only nearby rat-free zone she knew of, the Jeep. "Now, we go to the Church, get settled in, and then you and I are taking a little jaunt. I've got something that absolutely, positively can't wait till later, and I know you will benefit from coming along." "Aw, gee, Jules, how come Patt can't go? Shouldn't I have dustbunny duty or something?" the redhead complained. Jules leaned over and whispered into Fred's carrier. Fred barely managed to stifle his doggie laughter with one paw, while Bonnie tried, with great effort, not to grow any tinier... **************************** Two hours later... Bonnie sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep, saying not a word. She couldn't. The horror that had been perpetrated upon her person had shocked her into silence. Somehow, the punishment just hadn't seem to have fit the crime. Of all the torturous devices invented by man, this had to have been the worst of all, and Jules had been the one to force it on her. It was all too hideous to even consider. Just then, Jules interrupted her thoughts. "Don't worry, dear," she told the NA Scribe as she leaned over and patted her arm. "I always say, a little hot wax is good for the soul..." thought Bons. End ********************* KnightGal@aol.com From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H4yJ-00002c-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 08:37:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7924; Wed, 18 Aug 99 08:35:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0846; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 08:35:32 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 08:37:01 EDT Reply-To: BKBVA@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "(Beth Brown)" Subject: War: Knighties: Birthday Blahs To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 439cf42fd8ca43f0049551ef0bffb04e Knighties: Birthday Blahs by Beth Brown Time: Tuesday, August 17, late evening Location: The Loft Knighties and Nick used with permission For one brief moment, the loft seemed peaceful. Quiet, even. Sure, there were Knighties everywhere, but they were doing quiet things -- cooking, reading, some were even catching a quick nap. Even Nick was relaxing -- reading a book. Beth looked around, and saw Gemsong huddled on the couch by herself. It seemed as though ... no, it couldn't be ... but, yes, she was crying! Beth went and sat next to Gemsong. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Oh, nothing," came the reply. "Sure, you just like crying. Spill it," demanded Beth. Gemsong relented. "Well, Saturday's my birthday, my *30th* birthday. And here I am away from home, and I'm 30, and I hate it, and, and, and...." Oh, those round numbers, the ones with zeros on the end, thought Beth. She thought back and it seemed that the last couple of birthdays ending in zero had ushered in some pretty good years. But it's really hard to reason with someone when she's depressed. So she simply gave Gemsong a big hug. "There, there, it'll be okay. Besides, you're with friends for you birthday. And you're here with Nick. How bad can it be?" Okay, so it could be sometime other than wartime. Beth just sighed. And then came up with the obvious. A party! And to make it a surprise, have it Friday night. She called Roz, Jenn and Nancy over to plot the surprise. "I think that's a great idea," said Roz. We're always going to everyone else's parties. We should have one of our own. And a birthday is a great excuse." Nancy agreed. "That should cheer her up. She'll have too good a time to remember she's depressed." Beth, Jenn and Roz just gave Nancy a look that said . At that moment, Nick looked up. Of course, Nick couldn't bear the thought of anyone being more depressed than he'd ever be, so he wandered over to see if he could help. Beth explained the problem. Except that Nick really couldn't relate to the problem. Heck, how could he? What's 30 to an 800 year old? So Beth took another approach. "Didn't you ever have a birthday party when you were mortal? They didn't do those things back then?" Nick gave it some thought (perfect recall seemed to be taking a holiday). "Well, not really. I mean, I'm not even sure just *when* my birthday really is. It's not like I had a birth certificate, you know." Jenn just smiled and said, "Your file says January 1, so if you're truly mortal, you'd better get used to celebrating it. But back to the matter at hand -- Gemsong. I think a surprise party is a grand idea. And you get to help us plan it." ---to be continued later--- Beth bkbva@aol.com From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H5bw-0001qX-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:18:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6185; Wed, 18 Aug 99 09:16:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4058; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:16:27 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 08:18:20 -0500 Reply-To: Jill Kirby Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jill Kirby Subject: WAR: NP: Break a Leg, Sharon! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: feb9ec7b5acf9285724fcc9bb14b0b34 Break a Leg, Sharon! by Jill Kirby Wednesday, August 18 Midafternoon, Nat's apartment It was a lazy day, mid-war, and the NatPackers strewn around Nat's apartment were feeling lazy. Some of the more energetic participants had headed off to the ROM, and the remaining few were lazing around in various states of alertness ranging from comatose to marginally functional. "Ick," said Betsy distastefully, flicking past "General Hospital." "I can't watch that show any more." "Don't get me started." Jill's voice was muffled, as her face was smushed into a pillow. "They broke my heart, the smegheads." "I don't do soap operas," said Maureen. "I just obsess about any program made in Canada. And many that aren't made in Canada." "And anything starring Ciaran Hinds, or Liam Neeson, or..." Lynn's recitation was cut off by Maureen throwing a pillow at her. "Hey!" "Wait!" Jill's face rose from the pillow, and as she was in an extremely stressed-out state no one mentioned the fact that 1) she had the pattern of the pillow running all over her face, which was not especially attractive and b) her hair was sticking up from her head like she was the Bride of Frankenstein, although the streak of gray in it certainly reminded one more of Cruella DeVil. It was probably wise that no one mentioned these things. Stressed-out faction leaders have been known to do serious damage to anyone even THINKING about making jokes around them. Oh, wait. The story. "Wait!" Jill said again, reminding herself as the author to get back on track. "Look at the time!" There was a moment's pause as the NatPackers searched for a clock amidst the chaos. Betsy, fortunately, had her watch on. "It's about three o'clock." "Right now, Sharon is defending her dissertation." Jill said this with all the proper solemn inflections that go along with something that's really a Big, Enormous, Huge Important Thing. "When she's finished and successful, which she will be, she'll be Doctor Sharon." Everyone was duly serious. "Let's all think good thoughts for her," Betsy said with a smile. "It can't hurt." The Pack all thought good thoughts for their friend. Then most of them took a nap, which shouldn't detract from the really strong good vibes that they sent out before falling asleep to dream of non-crossover characters such as Methos, Dr. Ross, young Obi-Wan, Skinner, Ratboy, Catherine Zeta-Jones (we can't forget James' dreams, now, can we?), Kermit, the Guy, etcetera, yadda yadda... GOOD LUCK SHARON!! *** Jill Kirby ~ ~ kirby@enteract.com NatPack ~~ ABotCoS ~~ Jedi ~~ MFL Visit my newly relocated fiction page: http://jillkirby.webjump.com From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:18 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H5qq-0002b8-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:34:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4554; Wed, 18 Aug 99 09:31:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5067; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:31:50 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:33:29 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: A Little Romp for Syndey (aka Syndey's Vacation) (01/03) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 13a08ebeb5b07d4b259bc6047f3ea7d1 All people used with permission, Posted by me 'cuz time was running out...don't get mad at me Steve... Written by Steve Hood A Little Romp for Sydney (aka Sydney's Vacation) 01/03 Time: Early Wednesday morning Place: Nat's apartment Quietly, Steve slipped up the stairwell with a piece of paper in his hands. He made sure to wear complete black with gloves without logos to avoid the complications of being easily identified. He saundered up and walked down the hall, looking for the apartment number given to him from the Man-in-Black, and stopped once he found it. He gently set a brown sack down and dipped into an inside pocket to remove the leather case. He glanced at the lock, then opened his case and pulled out the appropriate pick size. 'Child's play,' he commented to himself. The pick went into the lock and Steve stood outside in the hallway for a moment, feeling for the tumblers and the turnbolt within the mechanism. With a silent "ahh", he turned the lock and swung the door open, meeting darkness. 'Kim better be ready outside with the van,' he thought to himself as he entered Natalie's apartment, grabbing the sack and slipping a mask over his features. Somewhere inside here, there was a cat that was needed. He crept around the apartment in the dark, making his way around the couch and into the kitchen. He stopped briefly to open the fridge and grab a can of catfood. Rummaging around, he finally located a twist can-opener and opened the can. From another pocket, he procured a bottle of sleeping pills, threw one into the cat food, then set it on the floor, Steve waited with the sack ready. And waited. And waited. Steve shifted slightly, careful to keep his movements to a minimum. 'Where's the darn cat?' he muttered in his thoughts. This was supposed to be a quick snatch and grab. Movement caught near the entrance to the kitchen. Steve held his breath and inwardly smiled, watching as Sydney made his way across the floor, sniffing and twitching his nose. 'Come on, Sydney,' he silently pleaded. 'Chow time.' Sydney stopped near the can, staring in Steve's direction with a swishing tail. It was almost as if he couldn't decide if Steve posed a threat between him and the food. He continued to watch Steve with those wide eyes of his, then finally moved to the can and began eating. Steve held his breath, watching Sydney eat. He crouched there and waited, letting Sydney feed on this special meal time. He couldn't move, for fear that Sydney would dart off and disappear to gods know where. He watched, until Sydney finally broke away from the can and moved off toward the water bowl, lapping. 'It won't be long now,' he told himself. True to catly instinct, Sydney decided to leave the kitchen. He gave Steve a once over with slightly dazed eyes, then awkwardly began toward the kitchen door. He made it to the entranceway before deciding to slump down and snooze. Steve stood up and quietly walked over to Sydney. Picking up the sleeping cat, he gently laid Sydney in the sack then proceeded back to the apartment door. He quickly exited, closing the door behind him then paused to relock the door. Simple and sweet. Humming silently to himself, Steve went back downstairs and exited the building toward the white van parked down at the end of the block. Kim poked her head out the window as Steve came up and went around to the passanger side door. He got in, careful not to bump the sack, and grinned. "Sydney's down for a while," he said. "Let's go." "What happened?" Kim demanded. "You took forever, and the sun's almost up." Steve shrugged. "Hey. When you're dealing with cats, you're on their time. I gave Sydney a sedative, so he's out for a while. Are we set back at the hotel?" Kim nodded. "Raven procured it and said she'd deliver the supplies." Then she grinned. "You realize of course, Natalie and Sydney's factions are going to flip when they find out." Steve grinned back. "But of course. But it's nothing permanent, so they'll calm down." Then he laughed. "And nail our intended target." Kim and Steve shared a silent grin, heading over to the hotel. _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:18 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H5qu-0002bL-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:34:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6260; Wed, 18 Aug 99 09:31:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5081; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:31:53 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:33:31 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: A Little Romp for Syndey (aka Syndey's Vacation) (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e9d93dfd29bbd548cfa749bae239fb83 ----- Original Message ----- From: Steve Hood A Little Romp for Sydney (aka Sydney's Vacation) 02/03 Time: Wednesday, about noon-time Place: An obscere hotel room Steve carefully removed Sydney from the sack and laid the cat on the table. Both Kim, Enid, Raven and the rest grinned. "Now what?" Enid asked. "Now the fun begins," Steve replied, removing his shaver. Raven put a hand on Steve's arm. "Uh uh. Don't even think about it, Steve." "Trust me." Steve winked. "You'll like it." He went to work, carefully shaving only parts of Sydney's fur as the rest watched him at work. He didn't want to hurt Sydney, only give the cat a temporary look. When he finally set the shaver down, he looked on at his work. Kim took one look at Sydney and burst out laughing. "That's terrible," she commented. Enid fought off a grin as Raven looked on shaking her head with a slight smile. Kadrina took one look and quipped, "Hey. He looks like a rabbit!" Sydney slept there on the counter with his fur carefully trimmed to resemble a rabbit. Steve looked back at Raven. "Did you grab the supplies?" Silently, with slightly narrowed, mocking eyes, Raven passed over a shopping bag. Steve dipped into the bag and removed a canister of pink, washable spray paint. He removed a set of mouth and nose masks, passing them out to each person, then slipped a mask over Sydney's mouth and nose. "Here it goes," he said. He started spraying the pink paint over Sydney, careful not to get any inside Sydney's ears. Once finished, he took off the masks. "Okay, we need to wait until the paint dries for the next part." He turned to Enid. "Did you get the picture and locket?" Grinning, Enid passed over a tiny heart-shaped, gold locket. Steve took it and opened it, looking at a smiling face of Tracy with make-up and touch-ups. "Perfect," he chuckled. "How about the rest?" Kadrina handed him a pair of gold hoop earrings with clip on holders, along with another set of diamond stud clip-ons. Steve went over and placed the locket around Sydney's neck, then carefully took a bit of tissue paper and clipped both sets of earrings on Sydney's upper ears with the tissue in between. "Cats' ears are sensitive," he explained. "The tissue's so the earrings won't hurt Sydney." He stepped back and looked over the work. "I don't know. He looks kinda cute." He went back into the sack and pulled out a fluffy ball of white then stuck it on the end of Sydney's tail. Kim came over with a piece of pink ribbon. "I couldn't resist," she replied, tying a bow around Sydney's neck. Everyone grinned, looking on at the sleeping cat. From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:18 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H5rU-0002cZ-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:34:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6264; Wed, 18 Aug 99 09:32:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5110; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:32:29 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:33:33 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: A Little Romp for Syndey (aka Syndey's Vacation) (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f18901811e1331f9370f192008b7266a From: Steve Hood A Little Romp for Sydney (aka Sydney's Vacation) 03/03 Time: Wednesday, late afternoon Place: Corner's Office A Fed-Ex Van pulled up to the Corner's Building as the deliveryman hopped out. He went to the side door and pulled it open, then removed a box with holes. Hiking his cap, he strode into the building with a clipboard in one hand and the air-holed box in another. He smiled at the receptionist. The receptionist looked up and set aside some paperwork. "A delivery?" The Fed-Ex man nodded. "Yep. Came Express. Guess someone didn't want this one to sit overnight somewhere. Same day delivery." He handed the receptionist the clipboard. "If you could just sign on number ten." "Who's this for?" "Says Natalie Lambert," he replied, hiding a grin. "Got it," the receptionist replied, handing the clipboard back to Steve "I'll get it to her." "Thanks," the deliveryman said, tipping his cap. "Have a good day." He turned and walked out of the coroner's building to the van. He hopped in and drove off. The receptionist looked on and shook her head slightly. She couldn't image what someone could be sending Dr. Lambert with airholes on the box. She eyed the box on the counter, shaking her head slightly. The box jumped slightly. The receptionist jolted in her seat, then stood up and carefully reached over. Curiosity burned at her, wondering what in the hell was inside the box. She broke the seal and opened up the top. A blur of pink leaped out, yowling. The receptionist screamed. Sydney shook himself and stretched on the receptionist's desk. Sporting his new look, the cat painted pink and shaved to look like a bunny with a white cotton ball on the tip of his tail paused to take in his surroundings. His tail swished back and forth as the cotton ball bobbed up and down. The pink bow around his neck was annoying, so he tried to scratch the thing off. The earrings jingled around his ears, but the pressure wasn't as bad. It was his neck that was irritating. That bow and the dangling shiny thing. With a slight sneeze Sydney curled up on the counter and began licking himself. The fur tasted a bit funny too. The receptionist leaned in closer for a better look. "Sydney?" she asked, completely bewildered. ============================== From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H614-0005Gn-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:44:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8275; Wed, 18 Aug 99 09:42:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5907; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:42:30 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 06:46:17 -0700 Reply-To: Teresita Tazon Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Teresita Tazon Organization: Forever Knight-Vaquera w/ T&V tendencies Subject: WAR: VAQS "A Chicken, A Rat, and an Old Peach" To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 94edb87a1b7aeb892a000cb6d0186c67 WAR: VAQS "A Chicken, a Rat, and an Old Peach" Wednesday, Aug. 18, 1999, Around 7:00 a.m. The *Scarred* Shrine ('sacred' my tushee) "A Chicken, A Rat, and an Old Peach" By Vaq Scribe 1, Teresita It was early Wednesday morning. Vachon and his followers had been at the *Scarred* Shrine less than one full day. Teresita was drinking from her ever-present liter of Diet Mountain Dew(tm). Since it had more caffeine than three cups of coffee, she was already wide-awake and surfing the web.The site for the city's newspaper, 'The Toronto Star' was open on the screen. Teresita grumbled to her laptop. Teresita giggled as an image of the NA members cleaning up paint, Silly String (tm), and the feathers from twenty pillows filled her mind's eye. she thought, laughing louder. "You must be reading the comics," came a soft, sexy voice from behind her, warm breath tickling her ear. "Aaaaack!" Teresita nearly upset the folding table in front of her as she jumped away. Vachon saved the laptop and Teresita both from crashing to the floor as his mouth quirking upward at one corner. "Gotcha." "Javier, that is *still* so *not* fair!" Teresita complained. "And just which Vaquera flipped that light on Saturday night during Felicia's ghost story, Ter?" Vachon not so subtly asked. "Okay, I guess that makes us even then." "Yup," Vachon said, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he sat down. "So what *was* so funny?" "I was just thinking of the Toga Chicks having to clean up that sticky feathery disaster we left for them at the Church." "Toga *Chickens* is more like it," quipped Vachon. He had felt a little bad at leaving the church that way for Jules and Bonnie after their little adventure of the other night. Then, when he saw the condition of the *Scarred* Shrine, his sympathy had shrunken considerably. He regretted his little speech to Tracy Sue about taking things easy this war. Teresita saw the scowl on Vachon's handsome face. He was so easy to read sometimes. "I know. Ticks me off, too. The way those Junkies thought they could pawn this white elephant off on us." Vachon blinked at Teresita. "How'd you know that's what I was thinking?" "Good guess," Teresita replied. "Don't worry too much about it. Echo is our Official Interior Decorator. She has everything all figured out for this place." "Hi! I thought I heard you two." Echo came into the dining room carrying a tray. "You're right Teresita. When I'm through, I'll make the DP's look like Campfire Scouts," Echo grinned wickedly. "I don't think I want to hear this." Vachon started to rise. "Wait a minute, Javier." Echo blocked Vachon's action. "There are advantages to having a restaurant kitchen handy. I made us some hot chocolate and cinnamon toast." Vachon looked at Echo's tray where there were two mugs of cocoa and a plate piled high with the warm fragrant bread. "Well, in that case... Thanks, Mouse." Vachon tweaked the tip of Echo's nose as he reached for the toast. "Bet you haven't heard this one. Why did the Nunkies Junkie cross the road?" "I don't know, Javs." Echo smiled. She loved a good joke. "Why *did* the Nunkies Junkie cross the road?" "To join the rest of the Toga Chickens on the other side!" Vachon smirked. Echo blinked, "I don't get it." "Lemme explain," he began. While this exchange was going on, Teresita had turned back to the computer screen. "Says here that Toronto's rat population appears to have doubled over the past few days." "I know they reproduce at an incredible rate, but that's just not possible. I mean, first they'd have to be pregnant, and then the babies need time to grow up. I got an "A" in biology; I know this stuff. And then..." "Mouse. Mouse!" Vachon clamped his hand over Echo's mouth. "It's because the carouches aren't feeding. The rats aren't afraid to come out of hiding anymore." "See Echo," put in Teresita. "There aren't any new rats." Almost imperceptibly, the two Vaqueras heard Vachon add ominously, "Yet." "Okay, back to work." Echo switched the subject to her favorite topic. "I'm anxious to fix this place up. Teresita, did you find what I needed?" Teresita gestured to a pad of paper lying next to the laptop, "Wrote the suppliers' names and phone numbers out for you." "Than..." Echo's expression of gratitude was cut off when Teresita gasped in surprise. "Oh mi Dios," Teresita exclaimed. "Look at this." Vachon and Echo leaned in so they could see the screen. Next to the article about the rat population, the 'Toronto Star' featured a related headline: "Restaurant Fire Blamed on Rat." Teresita began to read the story aloud. "Last night, Toronto's own Mordedura's was the scene of a kitchen fire that caused considerable damage. This reporter spoke to the restaurant's cook, a woman who was there when the incident took place. "I was about to deep fry some ice cream when I saw it. A rat had *dared* to come into Lupe's kitchen! I swung at it with my spoon. The ice cream splashed into the pan. Sizzling oil went all over, and then *Whoosh!* There were flames." Toronto Fire Department officials have determined that the loss of one of Toronto's finest Spanish restaurants is directly attributed to the increasing boldness of the rats. Sources say it could be as long as two weeks before Mordedura's will be reopened." Several other Vaquero/as had come into the room as Teresita finished. "A fire?" Tabitha yawned. "Where?" "There was a kitchen fire at Mordedura's last night. Isn't that great?!" Echo was gleeful. "Echo! How can you say that?!" Felicia was astonished. "Those are Javier's friends you're talking about," Tammy added. "They were very nice." Emma chimed in. "Made my bacon-cheeseburger just right, too. No pickles, no onions. Why, they even got me a cannoli." Vachon blinked at Mouse. "Wait, wait!" Echo laughed, "I didn't mean it *that* way. Joe, Lupe, and the rest of them can't go to work for a while, right?" Several Vaqs gave cautious nods. "Well, that's true. What scheme are you hatching up now?" Cliff knew the way Echo's mind worked. "Hehehehe... Hatching! Hehehehe. That's a good one, Cliff!" Echo giggled. "What is she talking about *now*?" Rae questioned. "Remind me to tell you guys the one about the Toga Chickens," said Teresita. Tracy Sue gave the giggling Vaquera her sternest Vaqmommy look. "Echo, come on. Tell us this plan of yours." "It's like this; we have a restaurant that needs staff. They're staff who need a restaurant." Echo said smugly. "Okay, I see," said Cliff, "You want to hire them for Spanish Lilly's." "Righto, bro." Echo agreed. "Could you go over there and see when they can start?" "Be happy to. Anyone want to go with me?" Cliff looked around the room. "I'll go, Cliff." Vachon stood up as he finished his cocoa. "I want to see that no one was hurt." The men left for their errand. Echo looked at her fellow Vaqueras and said, "Let's go ahead and get started while they're gone." Dishes were cleared off the table, and a set of drawings spread out. The renovations of the *former* Jeweled Peach had begun. -fin- ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H6IQ-0003xZ-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:02:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4677; Wed, 18 Aug 99 09:49:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6589; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:48:42 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 09:43:51 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: WAR: DP: War Chemistry - (repost from earlier) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ca709aff4de1d99437e7e9c1d4aec019 DP Mansion, Tues Aug. 17, late afternoon _____________________________________________ Martin moves through the Mansion seaching for Caeryn to see if she had managed to create the stuff he wanted to use later on in the War. He eventually finds her on her hands and knees looking for something. "Hey, Caeryn." "Hi, you've seen Burp around." It takes a moment for Martin to remember who or what Burp is. "No I haven't. But if it is important, I'll just come back later." "No, so what's going on." "I'm just wondering if you managed to come up with the stuff yet that I wanted to for this War." "I've got it right here." Caeryn reaches into her lab coat and comes up with a small tube that looks like a small topped tube." Martin had come up with the basic idea a while ago; certain tastes, smells, sights, can bring back memories. The spray is simply a much concentated version of that. "Thanks, I just want to try it out first." It is by bad luck for S.N.B. that she comes by, looking a bit worried about something. "Hey, could you see if this smells right." Martin hands the tube to her and she smells it. Immediately she stands still and gets a dazed look. "So how long does that last." "As best, from ten to thirty minutes of a flashback depending on the flashback. You can lead the person anywhere and they won't remember being moved or anything else during the time while effected." Martin smiles, "Thanks again for the help. I'll keep an eye open for Burp." He leads S.N.B. toward her room and leaves her there for the flashback to wear off. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H6So-0001Sf-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:13:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4799; Wed, 18 Aug 99 10:11:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8582; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:11:00 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:10:45 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS: The Pied Piper of Toronto (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 07dd2ee05819f323d880288780be59ea WAR: MERCS: The Pied Piper of Toronto (1/1) by Laurie MercBard All kitties used with permission. No cats were tormented during the writing of this post. Time: Late on Tuesday evening, and into early Wednesday morning Once upon a time. on the banks of a great river in the west of Canada lay a town called Toronto, also known as Hogtown to some. The war players of Toronto were sneaky folk who lived high off the above-mentioned hog in their mansions, hives, shrines, lofts, and chateaus. The years went by, and the factions grew larger. Then one day, an extraordinary thing happened to disturb the latest war. Toronto had always had rats, and a lot too. But they had never been a danger, for the carouches, and one carouche in particular, had always solved the rat problem in the usual way - by serving them up on a plate. All at once, however, in the early stages of war ten, the rats began to multiply.Soon, a black sea of rats swarmed over the whole town, followed by a black sea of despondent formerly and likely to be again some day (around August 26th to be precise) carouches, who couldn't understand why their appetites had suddenly changed. Especially the formerly and likely to be again some day carouche with the large appetite named Screed. At first, the rats were merely an annoyance, and the faction cats had lots of merriment chasing them around. But when the entire supply of pesticides in the greater Toronto area suddenly dried up, one irritated catless faction flocked to plead with the Mercenary Guild to free them from the plague of rats by bringing all the faction cats in Toronto to their headquarters. The Guild had, for a long time, been sitting in the GHP's office, trying to think of a plan to make some profit out of the rat invasion. "What we need is an army of carouches!," said Beth. But all the carouches were mortal. "We'll put down poisoned food then," said Mildred. But all of the poison was already in the hands of the GHP and she wasn't about to release any of it that couldn't be sold for profit. And the client wasn't offering enough chocolate to give up any precious stores. "Find another way to do the job!" said the GHP loudly. Just then, there was a loud knock at the door. "Who can that be?" the Mercs wondered uneasily, "No one's supposed to know where Merc Central is." They gingerly opened the door. And to their surprise, there stood a tall thin man dressed in brightly colored clothing, with a long feather in his hat, and waving a gold instrument at them, who in no way, shape or form resembled the formerly and likely to be again some day ancient vampire Lucien LaCroix, although he did look vaguely familiar. "I've freed other towns of ratsies," the vaguely familiar stranger announced,"and for a cut of your fee, I'll lead all the faction cats to your client!" "A cut of our fee!" screamed the GHP. "You must be mad!" She stared at the stranger. "By the way, you look vaguely familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?" The stranger ignored this last question. "Okay, how about I settle for a bath and a change of clothing, this outfit really stinks of vermin, and I'm tired of wearing brightly colored clothing, I prefer your basic black?" he asked. The Mercs agreed, and the stranger hurried away, saying, "It's too early now, but by tomorrow's dawn, your client will have so many kitties, there won't be a rat left in their headquarters!" * * * The moon was high in the sky, when the sound of a pipe wafted through the streets of Toronto. The stranger, now also known as the vaguely familiar pied piper, slowly made his way through the town, pausing at various faction headquarters. From the Hive to the Shrine, from Nat's apartment to CERK, the stranger called the rats. Out they scampered from doors, windows and gutters, rats of every size, all after the piper. "Those are rats, not cats!" whispered the GHP in a screech. "Give that woman a gold star," Wooby muttered. The GHP glared. But the stranger had a plan. For behind the flood of ratsies, ratherding the little but getting larger by the minute critters along, came every faction cat in Toronto. Well, every one except for Merc Central's two adorable but demanding cats, Ramona and George. (Greedy we may be, but stupid we're not.) From the Hive's Tiger, Elliott, and Myranae, to to Cerk's Gandalf, Merlin, Willow, Duncan, Zorro, Gozer, Tizzie, Earl, Cordelia and Edgar, from visiting Shrine felines Cousin Gwen and Carmen to the Natpack's Sidney, Grace and Ophelia, they all followed the stranger and the rats as he marched through Toronto, heading for a particular faction's headquarters. The stranger knocked on the door and ran away, leaving all the cats ... along with an extremely large crowd of rats - sitting on the doorstep. By the time the sun was high in the sky, there was not a single rat in the other factions' headquarters. Well, actually, that's a lie. By the time the sun was high in the sky, several of the recently displaced rats had returned to their original faction homes, and depressed by the lack of company, had filled up the hours till daybreak gleefully fornicating. And with no kitty checks on them, they continued to multiply at an astonishing rate. There was great delight at Merc Central, both because of the large amount of chocolate which the vaguely familiar stranger had earned the Guild, and because with their cats all gone, the other factions were likely to go through great misery. Anything that made the other factions miserable made the GHP very happy. And anything that made the GHP turn off the VOICE made the Mercs very happy. Until the piper tried to claim his payment. "The black shirt off my back?" exclaimed the Merc Mommie General. "Never." "My new black boots?" exclaimed Merc Newbie Wrangler Wooby. "Not in this lifetime." "My nice clean bath water?" exclaimed House Mommie Sara, staring suspiciously at the stranger and clenching her rolled up newspaper very tightly, for he looked vaguely familiar and not in a good way. "Those black jeans at least!" cried the pied piper angrily, pointing at Beth. All eyes in the room turned toward the newbie Merc. "Done!" said the GHP. "Beth, go change." She turned towards the other Mercs. "This stranger has potential. He'd be a great addition to the Guild." His eyes flashing with dollar signs, the pied piper nodded his head and pointed a finger at the GHP "Other factions will bitterly regret you following through on your promise," he said, and vanished to claim his prize. A shiver of glee ran through the Mercs. The GHP said excitedly: "We've got our own pied piper now, and we can spend the war having him lead all Merc Central's ratsies over to other faction headquarters." All the Mercs were content.. * * * That night, freed temporarily from the nightmare of the rats, the now overrun by cats faction slept more soundly than ever, dreaming of mushy romance, theatrical grandeur, Brenda Starr and Little Orphan Annie. (Well, actually, they didn't really sleep at all, owing as they now had a dozen howling cats on their doorstep. Across town, when the strange sound of piping wafted through the streets near Merc Central at dawn, no cats were around to hear it, as F. Hugh had lent his tiny fan fic fairy earplugs to Ramona and George. But the rats heard. Drawn as if by magic, the ratsies in Merc Central hurried out of HQ. Again, the pied piper paced through the town, as the Merc ratsies of all sizes flocked at his heels to the sound of his strange piping. The long procession soon made its way past the Hive, CERK, Nat's flat, the Shrine, the Harem, the Chateau and every other faction's location. When the piper came close to a HQ, he would lower his pipe and command the ratsies under his spell to join their fellow brethren in multiplying, and send a contingent off. Off went the ratsies under the pied piper's direction, and when the last ratsie had gone to invade the enemy, still looking vaguely familiar, the stranger put his pipe away and returned to the now ratsie (although not Ratpack) free Merc Central. He didn't notice a very large rat with a nametag reading Kenny, slowly following behind him, sniffing the air, thinking, "Hmm, this stranger smells vaguely familiar." * * * From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H6T9-0003hY-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:13:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6503; Wed, 18 Aug 99 10:11:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8617; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:11:22 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:13:10 EDT Reply-To: Meliss9900@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Melissa McFarlin Subject: WAR: Vaqs: Nights in Black Leather To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 18cda2d7c6e68c2976b4cadf623d7854 WAR: Vaqs "Nights in Black Leather" By Melissa Time: Wenesday Aug 18, 1999 This happens after "A Chicken, a Rat and an Old Peach" ********** "Nights in Black Leather" "It's a dirty job", Melissa thought to herself as she pulled on a pair of heavyduty Playtex(tm) rubber gloves "but one that has to be done. . especially if I'm going to get any sleep in "that" room." She gathered up the rest of her cleaning supplies including a large Rubbermaid (tm) trash can with wheels and headed towards "that room." A few minutes later she peeked around the edge of the door, mouth agape. Then, remembering both, her grandmother's warning that "If you don't close your mouth something is going to fly in" and the fact that having Fan Fic faeries around made that a very real possibilty, she closed it with a snap ..pausing long enough to mutter "Addicts . . disgusting." Taking a deep breath and mustering her courage she stepped into the room and promptly fell over an object that was half sticking out from underneath the bed. "What the. . . " she swore turning around and pulling the object the rest of the way out. "Oh my. . A SNIXCO catalog. I must be in KC's room." Looking around she discovered that there must be a couple hundred of the books piled in haphazard fashion around the room. Not to mention other paraphanalia that marked the territory of an Addict. Standing up and dusting herself she decided that the catalogs were the first things to go. Not only were they a fire hazard but once they were gone there would be much more room for slacking off. Mumbling to herself about mental health and Q-tips (tm) she went off to 'borrow' a wheelbarrow from the GROUT crew. ***************** Several hours, a huge dustcloud, little paint, lots of trashbags and a few curses (unrepeatible in a PG-13 war) and a spilled bucket of mop water (which she cleaned up with, as she found out later, a Toga) Melissa stood back to survey her handy work. The bed was invitingly covered in a black leather bedspread with matching shams. Scattered throw pillows with a cow motif and chrome accessories added a homey gleem to the room. The sheets on the bed, which were currently hidden depicted a full size painting of Javier The walls were painted to resemble the ouside of a Gateway Computer (tm) box and a wallpaper border, featuring various brands of electric and acoustic guitars, circled the room approximately 3 and 1/2 feet from the floor. Above the headboard was a 5 X 3 chrome framed print of a Triumph and on the opposite wall a "Got Milk?" poster of Javier smiled back at her. "Perfect" she commented with a satisfied smile. She turned to the wheelbarrow and wondering where a recycling site was, began to push the mound of books towards the Shrine's main room. She felt good. While she realized that she could have commanded the Fanfic Faeries to do the work for her she loved the warm feeling of accomplishment that came from doing the job herself. Melissa A Vaq Brat and one of Tracy Sue's Thugs From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H6zd-0006DS-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:47:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6842; Wed, 18 Aug 99 10:44:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2273; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:44:53 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:44:31 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS/RP: Picking up the Pieces (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 24be9589eb621b749bd966de624a6973 WAR: MERCS/RP: Picking up the Pieces (1/1) by Laurie MercBard, crossing her fingers that the postie Gremlins haven't gotten into her post Sunday late afternoon, following the post "Knighties: Suspicious Minds" Libs used with permission. No PTD coupons were harmed in the writing of this post. Libby, hot on the trail of tracking ratsies, found herself near the loft. She vowed to skirt the building ... "those Knighties h'ill git me h'into truble, they 'will" ... when out of the corner of her eye she saw four women standing in front of the loft. More importantly, she saw lots of shiny pretty bits they were wastefully throwing into the air. That stopped her dead in her tracks. "Ooh, pretty!!! Confettee.. shiniees... pretty ..." she chirped, as the foursome re-entered the loft without noticing the lurking Ratpacker. She gave a quick look around and scooted over to the trash bins and the ground surrounding it, and began picking up bits of paper and stuffing them in her left hand pocket. Satisfied she'd gotten all the pieces of the pretty shiny paper, and totally forgetting about ratsie tracking, she headed back to Merc Central with her prize.. * * * Time: Later that afternoon, Merc Central's main room Libby sat contentedly sorting through her afternoon's haul of shiny, pretties. The serenity was shattered by the sudden appearance of the PooPain in person, accompanied by a very large rat with a nametag reading Kenny, who was attempting to hug the GHP's leg. "Are you *still* here?" the PooProblem demanded. "Do something about these rats. NOW. They're your friends ... GET OFF OF ME!!!" She kicked Kenny away. Kenny stood behind the GHP, making faces and blowing ratsie raspberries. Fortunately, Laurie was distracted. "Hmm, what's that?" The Poobah's eye was caught by one of Libby's piles of paper. She snatched it up and examined the tiny piece closely. You could just make out the words FREE and TRANQUIL on the edge. A greedy look came into her eye, as she rapidly pawed through the pile. Libby began to wail, "Don't take me shiny prettys ... " "BE QUIET!!! Where did you get these?" the GHP demanded. "I'ze found them, I did, outside ov that Nicky's loft, I did," Libby wailed. "They's mine ..." "Not anymore, they're not," the GHP declared. "These look like the remnents of four free coupons for a Personal Tranquility Device. And there's no *names* on them. Which means I can redeem them *myself* any time I want." "Wat's a Poisonal Twanquilty Deevise?" Libby sniffed suspiciously. "Well, it seems Bons has let her imagination out of its bottle again. She sent coupons for personal tranquility devices to all the faction leaders and second in commands as a goodwill gesture because of all the bad feelings last war. Whenever the war gets a bit too much for us, we can redeem them for something that makes us feel really ... really ... really ... " she could barely get the word out, but through clenched teeth finished the sentence, "... really ... go ... goo .... good. Fleurette got a full body massage and Julia got a valium salt lick.Of course, I plan on using my *five* ..." here she chortled wildly, "... for something far more profitable." "Oohzies, wat a swellsie idea that Bons got!" Libby jumped up. "H'i'm a co-faction leader, do h'i get one, huh, huh, huh, do h'i get one?" "Yup, you and Johnsie both get them, Libs," Laurie answered, clutching her new-found booty. "But not these. *These* are mine. Possession is nine tenths of the law. If someone was stupid or mean-spirited enough to throw these out and waste a great storyline opportunity ... " here, she shrugged in dismissal, "then, hey, it's their loss." "Besides," she added as she turned and headed back toward her office. "Goodwill gestures from overinflated evil faction leaders aside, this is war. If those Nunkie numbskulls think I'm trouble as it is, wait until they see me *tranquil*. They'll rue the day those messenger fan fic fairies ever darkened my door." She grinned evilly and disappeared down the corridor. "Tranquiwlized would be eeven better," Libby muttered, still bemoaning the loss of her shiny pretties. "Den maybe shee'd keep 'er mean 'ole mitts off ov my goodies." * * Finis * * From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H7gS-0004cD-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:31:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5472; Wed, 18 Aug 99 11:29:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7194; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:29:13 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:30:54 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA: The Model Addict (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5d8f17eaf022b048e3e62a46b1d5fa9b TITLE: The Model Addict(1/2) AUTHOR: Christy Stillman and Cousin Erik TIME: Tuesday Morning/Afternoon, August 17, 1999 After "What Have I Done?" and during the addict packing in "Mi Casa Es Su Casa" NOTES: Cousin Erik, Dee and Glennis used by permission. Kriel belongs to Patt. Many thanks for allowing me to borrow him for a bit. The filk belongs to our very talented filker, Cousin Erik. Thanks for writing it for inclusion in this post, Cuz! Quietly opening the swinging doors, Christy furtively checked out the interior of the kitchen/lab. Good. No Patt. She'd kind of been avoiding the Third Cousin since the whole sordid credit card incident. So far, there had been no retribution, but she could feel it coming like static electricity before a lightning storm. Now, on top of it all, they were having to vacate the Shrine. She breathed a sigh of relief as she trudged over to the refrigerator and began looking for a bit of solace. Eyes gleaming, she spotted said solace almost immediately. A pan of tiramisu lay waiting for her. "Come to me," the tiramisu seemed to say. "I will take you far, far away from your troubles and your pain." She snatched it up with great anticipation, pushed the door closed with her elbow and turned to find herself facing a...white cotton wall? Looking up, she saw that the wall possessed a head with eyes which stared at her intently. At first she couldn't place the face, then she remembered. It was Kriel, the GROUT foreman. The erstwhile vampire was giving her a lean and hungry look. She gulped and went into her most engaging "Suthun Belle Hostess" mode. After all, who could possibly resist (or cause physical harm to) a Belle when she really turned on the charm? "Hi. It's Kriel, isn't it?" she said, allowing her natural drawl to come through a bit more pointedly. "Ah'm Christy. Nice to meet ya. You lookin' foah a snack?." She smiled her best smile. Kriel's right arm came across her shoulder as he braced himself against the refrigerator door and leaned down toward the short redhead. It was one of those male leans...the ones that say, 'Hi there. I'm male. Aren't you impressed with my height, my bulky muscles, and my ability to totally dominate petite women like you?' (Truth be told, Christy *was* pretty durn impressed. Kriel was quite a specimen.) "Why? You volunteering?" He gave her a predatory grin and started to lean closer, moving toward her neck. Christy thrust the pan of tiramisu between them and smiled sweetly, trying to distract the ex-vamp from following what would normally have been his natural instincts. "Yep. I'm volunteering to make the ultimate sacrifice. Behold, I come bearing tiramisu, and I'll even share." Kriel, shoved back by the pan, looked at the proffered delicacy. "Tiramisu?" "You mean you haven't had any yet?" Christy huffed. "What's Patt been feeding y'all all this time? Nothin' but hot dogs and sandwiches?" "They suffice." "Suffice, hmph!" the Belle grunted, grabbing Kriel by his very well muscled arm and leading him to a chair. "Honey, you just sit yourself right down here and prepare to experience nirvana. I'd say heaven, but that's strictly reserved for eatin' chocolate." She plopped a plate of tiramisu down in front of Kriel, then sat beside him with her own. "Enjoy, babe." They were having a pleasant discussion about various restaurants in the area when Christy began hearing the noise. "Did you hear that?" she said, a puzzled look on her face as she tried to identify the sound and from whence it came. "Hear what?" "It sounds like singing." ******************************** In the Ratpacker tunnels, Cousin Erik admired the fit of his new toga and was inspired to new heights of filkdom. Looking at himself in the extremely shiny-pretty mirror, he began to sing: I am the very model of an Addict of the General, I eat my tiramisu and I drink the water mineral, I often speak in quotes and I make statements metaphorical, And when I ask a question, more than likely it's rhetorical; Now, people tell me sometimes that they think I am fanatical, I would whammy them away, but it could prove problematical, I met up with other Addicts, but I'm sure that that is all old news -- With so many goings on, I can't find time to have the blues! Nunkies is our idol and he's been just like a pal to us, And the way he holds himself; well, it borders on miraculous, So pass the tiramisu and a glass of water mineral, 'Coz I'm the very model of an Addict of the General! Extremely pleased with the outcome of the first verse, the baritone paused a moment and then continued: He's watched our mythic history, from Arthur's to Sir Caradoc's; He poses tough enigmas, and he loves to scoff at modern docs, He never spouts elegiacs for all the crimes that he has wrought, And tries to reinforce in Nic'laus all the lessons he was taught; He used to be a leader, people worshiped him on bended knees, Now he's proud to be a vampire, free from aging and from all disease, He used to play a rebec -- I had never heard its din afore, But don't ever get him started on that wretched piece called "Pinafore"! He's fought in ev'ry war since before the troops wore uniforms, He knows a host of foreign tongues, from English to cuneiform, So pass the tiramisu and a glass of water mineral, 'Coz I'm the very model of an Addict of the General! ************************ Kriel and Christy looked at one another and began searching for the source of the music. "Come to me, Angel of Music," Christy sang, hoping to draw the musician forth. ************************ Cousin Erik stopped short. Had he heard someone singing? Sounded like a soprano. He listened closely for a moment, then shrugged and went on with his filk as he packed his belongings for the trip to Vachon's Church. He was there the day that Pompeii was destroyed by Vesuvius He scoffed at all the years we call the "Ages of Aquarius" Nothing can surprise him and no one gets the best of him Except that one exception when he had to face his next-of-kin He has seen the progress that we've claimed over the centuries >From wood to coal to oil -- even nuclear refineries But nothing's really changed as he'll tell you with a savage grin People kill each other and it happens time and time again! His military knowledge -- for that alone does it give us pause, And his choc'late coated voice causes rounds of wild applause, So with rounds of tiramisu and lots of water mineral, We are the very models of the Addicts of the General! ******************** Christy was truly puzzled now. The baritone voice had ceased. Turning from her search, she looked at Kriel, or to put it more accurately, she looked at the counter behind Kriel. On the counter was the tiramisu pan, and in the pan were rats--hundreds of rats. Well, okay, there were really only three, but to Christy's panic-stricken mind, there were hundreds, beady little eyes staring at her. She pointed at the pan. "EEEEEEEK!" she screamed. Kriel turned quickly to see what had set this strange woman off. The rats scattered, one of them jumping off the counter and heading straight for the screeching female. "EEEEEEEK!" Kriel made the mistake of approaching Christy to shake her out of her hysteria. When he got close enough, she started climbing him like a tree. Before he knew it, he had his arms full of screaming female. He was not pleased. "EEEEEEEK!" she eeked again as the rat scurried across the floor. Christy buried her head in Kriel's shoulder. The un-undead foreman kicked at the rat, and it finally went to ground. "It's okay now," he told the cringing woman cradled in his arms. "They're gone." Christy looked up at him, eyes wide and, apparently now having only one word left in her vocabulary, she said, "Eeeeek?" From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H7pH-00013Q-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:40:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7344; Wed, 18 Aug 99 11:38:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8858; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:38:14 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:38:17 EDT Reply-To: Eaglesmoon@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: JL Kerr Subject: WAR: Peaches and Lights (1 of 1) Wednesday, Noon - 6:00 pm To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0e7eedf48637f440803324d3364a88e3 Title: WAR: Peaches and Lights (1of1) Written by: Margie Hammet Time: Around noon - about 6:00 pm, on Wednesday, Aug. 18 Morgaine and Anjali had been mock-dueling with light sabers in Morgaine's room, but now Morgaine was in a thoughtful mood. "I'm glad Kyer decided to stay," she said, sitting down, "But she's still upset about the rumor that the Nunkies Addicts might try to kidnap her. I wish we could do something so she wouldn't have to worry about it." "So do I," said the other teenager, "But what can we do?" "I do have an idea," Morgaine said. "J.L.'s been showing Kyer and me her hologram-creating software..." She explained her idea to Anjali. "C'mon, I'll show you," Morgaine said, jumping up and leading the way to Kyer's room. Kyer wasn't there, but there was a plastic bag on the floor, filled with small, grey cubes and a few other devices. Morgaine went over to Kyer's computer and logged into the Comfy Cottage's computer network. She brought up the hologram-creating application and showed Anjali the image Kyer had been working on. Anjali laughed and clapped her hands together. "That will be perfect!" she said. Morgaine agreed. "All we need to do is change the message." With a few mouse clicks and some keystrokes, she did that. "These are the hologram projectors," she said, picking up one of the 2" metal cubes. She showed Anjali how to upload the program into the projector. She picked up another device. "This is an electronic sensor," and she demonstrated how that was used. Finally, she picked up a third device. "This is the remote control," she said, "For turning the projectors on and off. There's no on and off buttons on the projectors, themselves." Quickly, the two teenagers uploaded the program into more of the hologram projectors. Then Morgaine found two large, over-the-shoulder bags of Kyer's, the kind with open tops, and they filled them with the projectors. They tossed a sensor into each bag. "We'd better hurry," said Morgaine, grabbing the remote control. "The bus will be here in a few minutes. Giggling, the two girls ran out of the Comfy Cottage. _____________________________________________________ Morgaine got impatient during the bus trip downtown. With numerous stops and a transfer, it took almost an hour to get to their destination. And bus seats aren't very good for bouncing on. But finally, the bus got there, and they got off just a couple of blocks from the Jewelled Peach. Morgaine and Anjali had planned to say admiring things about the restaurant to allay suspicion, but when they walked into the lobby, their admiration was genuine. Elaborate murals adorned the walls, and the lobby was graced by leather sofas and chairs, in dark brown. The background colors on the murals in various shades of peach gave the room a warm glow. "Oh!" said Morgaine. "This is beautiful," said Anjali. Anjali was the first to recover. "C'mon," she whispered to Morgaine. "We've got to go into the dining room." Like the lobby, the dining room appeared to have no one in it. Even so, the girls stuck to their plan, just in case there was anyone within hearing distance. Their admiration didn't have to be feigned. "Look at this wood paneling," said Morgaine, lightly running her fingers down the rich grain. As she did so, she took a small, grey, metal cube from her shoulder bag and casually dropped it on the peach-colored carpet, near the wall. "I'm so glad you suggested coming to see this place," said Anjali, also dropping a cube from her shoulder bag. "Can you imagine getting to eat here?" Morgaine asked, dropping another cube in another spot along the wall. "It would be so romantic," said Anjali, doing the same. Morgaine continued dropping cubes. "I hear they make great Belgian waffles," she said. Anjali moved over to the cappuccino bar, and dropped some more cubes. "And the best tiramisu, too." "Yes," said Morgaine, as she moved over to one of the curtained-off privacy booths, and dropped a cube under the curtain's edge. "Ummm... what is tiramisu, exactly?" "I don't know," said Anjali, as she dropped a cube at the edge of another privacy booth, "But I hear it's the best." The other part of their plan, though, was more difficult. Anjali's acting talent came in handy, and Morgaine followed her lead. "Can you imagine if we were eating here, and LaCroix came in?" Anjali asked, saying the name almost reverently, and dropping more cubes as she did so. "Ohhh, that would be so wonderful," said Morgaine. She moved towards one of the tables. "Imagine if he were sitting right here at this table." She casually reached her hand into the shoulder bag again, and took out a small device, which she kept hidden in her palm. "Maybe he would beckon to you to come over." She began to move her hands over the fine linen tablecloth, somewhat as if she were pantomiming an imaginary LaCroix' action. When her hand was over the center of the table, she pushed a button on the device she was holding. Anjali moved to another table. "Maybe he'd put a candle in the center of the table," she said, pantomiming also. She also pushed a button on the device she was hiding in her palm. "He'd light the candle," said Morgaine, at another table. She pushed the button again. "Nunkies," Anjali almost whispered, at another table. "He'd offer you some wine." She pushed the button. "Nunkies," breathed Morgaine, as she pushed the button at another table. The girls went from table to table, pushing the button on the devices. Every time they did, a signal was sent to one of the hologram projectors, telling it exactly where to position the hologram. Finally, they were all through. They stood in the center of the restaurant, side by side, leaning so that their shoulders almost touched. They clasped their hands in front of them. "Nunnnnnnk-ies," they said together, almost like Homer Simpson, saying, "Doooouuugh-nuts." It was all Anjali could do to stifle her laughter. The girls left the restaurant. Once they were outside, and about a half a block away, Morgaine pushed the button on the remote control. Inside the Jewelled Peach, in the center of each table, a one foot high hologram of Lucien LaCroix and Barney the Dinosaur appeared. They were dancing together, with their arms out to their sides, clasping each other's hands, and swaying from foot to foot, as they sang, "I love you. You love me. We're a happy family." When they completed their little song, Barney let go of LaCroix' hands and turned ninety degrees to face outward towards the table edge. "Promise to leave Kyer alone, and we'll go away," he said. Then he turned back to LaCroix, they clasped hands, and the singing and dancing began again. Outside, Morgaine and Anjali ran giggling to the bus stop. In a little over an hour, they were back at the Comfy Cottage. _____________________________________________ "Anyone seen Morgaine lately?" Margie asked Lisa and J.L., as she came into the living room. "She wanted me to help her feed the Space Chickens today." "I noticed Morgaine and Anjali in Kyer's room a couple of hours ago," said Lisa. "Are they..." Just then they heard voices in the entrance hall. Morgaine and Anjali came into the living room, Morgaine holding the remote control for the hologram projectors. Excitedly, they explained where they'd been and what they'd done. As they explained, though, they noticed that the others didn't seem to share their excitement. Margie, in particular, looked absolutely dismayed. "Uh oh," said Morgaine. "Even if they promise to leave Kyer alone," pointed out Lisa, "This is a war, and in a war a promise like that isn't likely to be kept." "Besides, something like that isn't likely to stave off an attack," Margie explained. "It's more likely to invite an attack." "Not to mention what will happen if LaCroix finds out," said J.L. "He'll know which faction did it." "Ohmigosh! Give me that thing!" Margie yelled, as she grabbed the remote out of Morgaine's hand. She pressed the 'off' button. She wondered if it was already be too late, though. "Did you ever think of what would happen if LaCroix saw it?" she asked Anjali and Morgaine. But one look at their faces made it very clear that they hadn't. "But...but...it isn't meant to be *real*," squeaked Anjali. "We never meant it as anything against LaCroix," Morgaine said in a small voice. "Yes, well, _he_ may not see it that way," Margie said. She stared at the remote contol in her hand. She hoped _he_ hadn't seen it at all. "We're really sorry, Margie," said Anjali. "Oh, it's okay," said Margie, sounding more as if she were trying to convince herself. "You were trying to help. It's a war, after all, and these things happen in war." After dinner, Margie into the living room. The others were in the movie room setting up a video of "Night in Question". They had offerred to watch it with her in the hope of getting her to feel better. She was still obviously very worried, what with the radio broadcast and then the holograms. Margie looked at the Cousins of the Knight banner over the fireplace. Sometimes she felt calmed just looking at the two crossed swords, one Crusader, one Roman, and the pocket watch that said, "Forever", with the chain entwined around the hilts of the two swords. She contemplated the Cousins of the Knight motto as it was written around the edge of the banner, - "Even when they are trying to kill you, they are still family". She supposed that went for faction-mates as well. Feeling cheerier, she went to join the others. _______________________________________ End of post: Peaches and Lights (1of 1) From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H7tk-0000Po-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:45:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9320; Wed, 18 Aug 99 11:42:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9283; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:42:31 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:43:27 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA: The Model Addict (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3e6ea638836b1f8d15c10b93d5f7b64d TITLE: The Model Addict (2/2) AUTHORS: Christy Stillman and Cousin Erik NOTES: Everyone used with permission. The sound of screams permeated Cousin Erik's home-away-from-home in the Ratpacker tunnels. His head jerked in the direction of the entrance, and he hit the ground running. Well, he hit the ground anyway. He was up and running shortly thereafter. The Shrine *must* be under attack! The toga fluttered gracefully around his knees as he raced to aid his fellow addicts. Bursting from the entrance and into the kitchen/lab, he found a single addict being held (literally) by one of the ex-vamps. At least he sincerely hoped it was an ex-vamp and not a re-vamped vamp. Both the man's and the woman's heads snapped up at his surprise entry. Erik recognized Christy from the pillow fight. She was the one he'd pummeled while discussing story continuity. A fellow addict was in danger. Duty required him to assist. He screwed his courage to the sticking place, faced the immortality-challenged one and growled, in a voice surprisingly similar to that of a certain farm-boy-turned-Dread-Pirate, "Drop. The. Addict." While Christy prayed that the ex-vamp wouldn't take Erik's demand too literally, Kriel snarled. Erik had to admit that it was a pretty impressive snarl even without the fangs and golden eyes, but he staunchly stood his ground. The other addicts would do the same for him...he hoped. His eyes searched the room for beer bottles. Damn! Where were Addictly Weapons when they were needed? Setting Christy on her feet abruptly, Kriel advanced on the Nunkamale. Erik planted his feet and fixed his eyes on the construction worker's shoulders, hoping to anticipate any attack. Christy staggered a bit, then, sensing the impending confrontation, interposed herself between the two men. "Kriel...is that the sound of slacking outside?" she said to the hulking foreman. "Maybe you should check it out. I can handle things in here." She gave him a winsome look. "Please?" The ex-vamp looked down at her and growled, but it *was* rather quiet outside. He stalked to the door, glared back at the male addict and said, "We'll continue this discussion later." Erik merely smiled, clicked his heels together in a von Strohan bow, and replied through clenched teeth, "I'll count the hours." But by then, Kriel was out the door, a few pamphlets blowing about in his wake. Christy rounded on the Nunkamale. "What the devil did you think you were doing?!" she exclaimed. Attacked from an unexpected quarter, Erik cocked his head slightly to one side and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Well, let's see," he began as casually as if he were ticking off the grocery list. "I heard screams, came in here, found you in the arms of some ex-vamp who looked to be returning to his old nature, and attempted to come to the aid of a fellow addict. Are all the addicts suicidal, or is it just you?" "Look, there were rats eating the tiramisu," she pointed to the pan on the counter and shuddered at the memory. "I kinda went nuts, and Kriel was trying to help. I appreciate the assistance, but it just wasn't what it seemed." "Maybe you should have told *him* that." Erik forced himself to calm down. "Christy," he began a little softer, "with your face buried in his chest, you didn't see the look in his eyes when I walked in. Fangs or no fangs, he wanted to take you." Christy remembered the hungry look in Kriel's eyes earlier. "I suppose it could possibly have ended up that way...." She passed a hand over her eyes and softened her tone. Steeling herself, she said the three most difficult phrases she knew. "You're right. I'm wrong. I'm sorry." Her fellow addict relaxed his stance a bit. As he did, she noticed that he was wearing a toga. "It's not your fault," he was trying to say, but, dressed as he was, she wasn't about to give him the chance. "Why Erik, you're wearing your new toga." She walked around her fellow addict. "Not bad, dude. Makes those shoulders look even broader. And those calves..." she said with a mischievous grin, "...very nice." She grabbed his hand and dragged him through the swinging doors and into the main altar room. "C'mon! We have to show off your new duds!" Erik began to protest, but it was too late. Entering from the other direction were Dee and Glennis. They ogled the toga-clad Nunkamale as they approached. Glennis whistled appreciatively. Not for the first time, Erik wondered why he had signed on with this bunch of crazy women. "Not bad, Erik," Glennis said with a wink. "Not bad at all. Nice knees. Why don't you do a little turn for us so we can get the rear view?" Dee grinned at Glennis. "Wonder what he'd look like in a kilt? Why don't we take him to the Sacred Wardrobe and find out?" She took the left arm, Glennis took the right, and they began to move the horrified man, heels searching for purchase on the marble, toward the door. "You know, Erik," Glennis began, "we'd be happy to give you a makeover if you'd like. Something more befitting of your new status as an addict." "We could start with a buzz cut...." said Dee. "Oh darn!" Glennis proclaimed as they reached the portal, "I forgot there's a hole in the roof. Besides, they're probably packing everything up." "Packing," Christy groaned. "Exactly what *we* should be doing." Erik managed to extricate himself from the women. "Well then," he said, "If you...ladies...will excuse me, I should continue gathering my belongings." He bowed gracefully, though not too deeply (short skirts can be such a pain), turned and walked back across the room. His retreat was very dignified, and he was quite proud of himself. He didn't start running until he had made it all the way back through the swinging doors. From - Wed Aug 18 18:30:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H9ZZ-00033g-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 13:32:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8533; Wed, 18 Aug 99 13:29:35 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5436; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 13:29:35 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:34:56 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP: Velcome to Vetterburg! (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 968385049aa3b7bfedd6768548fea21c WAR: DP: Velcome to Vetterburg! (1/1) Place: Outside Cerk Time: Wednesday the 18th, dawn By: Cousin Mary (egged on by Shana Nolan) Just as the rosy pinkness of dawn began to shine over the horizon, a caravan of DPs headed out for a wonderfully and gloriously over-planned attack. "MMm, I love the smell of Napalm in the morning!" Shana grinned as she steered the Pinkmobile into CERK's parking lot. "Napalm?" Mary arched a brow as she finished waxing up her borrowed accordion, "Where do you smell napalm?" "No where," Shana shrugged, "I'm just saying I love the smell." "Oh, okay," Mary grinned then looked around, "We're here Thugs! Everybody out! And get the stuff!" As the DPs climbed out of the Pinkmobile and various Tauruses, they straightened their lederhosen, grabbed their instruments, as well as snatched up the sacks of 'presents.' They marched to the sidewalk a few feet away from the entrance and set up. Shana grabbed her tuba, Mary tuned her accordion, Ren grabbed her hurtey-gurtey and other Thugs assorted other musical torture devices. Yep, they were ready to ...Polka! Ooom Pah Pah Oom Pah Oom Ooom Pah Pah!!! "Hey!" Maya called out, putting down her alto sax for a moment, "We're pretty good!" *Toot!* "I second that!" June laughed. Oom Pah! Pah! Pah! Oom! Pah! Inside CERK, the Cousins were being very rudely awakened. "What the hell?" "Sounds like... polka!" "Are the FoDs attacking?" Cousin Tok peered out a window and grumbled as she took in the sight of all the pink lederhosen and jaunty little caps with pink brushes on the tops, "Worse, it's those weird DPs." "What do -they- want?" "To dance?" A cousin theorised as she polkaed around the room. "Stop that!" Cousin Tok growled, "Lets just all go and shut them up before they start into 'Who Stole the Kieshka!'" As the Cousins piled out, intent on stopping the musical styling of the DP Polka Band (with hand grenades if necessary) something strange happened. "Greetings fellow Germans!" Mary, DP Godmother held up a hand and waved. The Cousins drew up short, "Huh?" "We come from a neighbouring village, we are here to help," Mary grinned, holding up one of the 'whammizers' she'd stolen from the Enforcerments, "Just looking into the white light and all will be explained." In a flash, the DPs story seems so very believable. They were all from small, turn of the century German villages. No doubt about it. "You come from the neighbouring village?" Cousin Tok asked. "Yes, we come from Perkslavania" Mary nodded, "You see, your town... Vetterburg." Cousin Tok nodded. 'Vetter' meant 'cousin' in German, therefore, their town was called Vetterburg. Made perfect sense. "Vetterburg," Mary continued, "Has been under the power of the mad Dr. Natenstien and her monster." "Natenstien..." Ren laughed into her hand, "Oh Nat's going to -love- that!" "Really?" One of the cousins looked worriedly over her shoulder, as if she expected the great bolt-necked monster and corpse-cutting mad scientist to be coming around the bend any second. "Would I lie?" Mary asked as the DPs behind her snickered. "Anyway, if we weren't here to help," Anne stepped forward with one of the bags they'd brought, "Would we have brought you clothes?" The Cousins looked down at their stylish clothes, then back at the DP's 'polka-wear.' Surely the lederhosen were better than all this black! They excepted the bags of clothes gratuitously. "Der is evil plots a-fuut," Shana told them in an outrageously bad German accent. The Cousins all looked at their feet. "No, no," Shana tucked some of her auburn hair under her jaunty little cap and tried again, "The evil Dr. Natenstien and her monster, they will no doubt try to take your town again." "Wh-what can we do?" Another cousin asked, clearly frightened. "-So- glad you asked," Shana grinned in triumph, holding forth a pitchfork and as-yet-unlit torch. "I think you know what you need to do." Something clicked deep within the Cousins... the Vetterburgians, minds. They'd seen enough B grade monster movies to know what was expected. A good old fashioned angry mob! "Thank-you Perkslavanians," Cousin Tok took a pitchfork, "We'll take it from here." "Good to hear," Mary nodded, grinning from ear to ear. She, and the rest of the DP, leaned down and picked up their polka instruments and began Oom Pah Pahing their way back to their cars. "Oh! And one more thing!" "Yes?" Cousin Tok arched a brow as she traded her pitchfork for a torch. "Tell your Mayor... Der Croit," Mary twitched her nose and grinned, "Tell him we say 'hi.'" Cousin Tok blinked, then nodded. Their Mayor, Der Croit (German for 'the cross') of course. "Will do." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cousin Mary ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11H9n8-0007Dm-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 13:46:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6958; Wed, 18 Aug 99 13:38:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6706; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 13:38:13 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:40:04 -0700 Reply-To: Jennifer Louise Mendenhall Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Louise Mendenhall Subject: WAR: Knighties on the Move To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU In-Reply-To: <199908140803.BAA25168@gladstone.uoregon.edu> Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3fafba8db643a909c92351e5872da79a Backdated to Friday August 13, 1999 Knighties on the Move All Knighties used with permission by Stephanie Jordan It was late that August afternoon...a breeze was rolling through a few nearby trees. It was that damned rustling that was keeping her awake...She was 17 for Goddess' sake she shouldn't wake up until at least 3:30pm but what was she to do?? "Ack! Nothing is working..." She lulled herself out of bed with the promise of a mocha capp from the local convenience store and a cold shower... *** An hour has passed and she had managed to detangle the mass of burgundy hair on her head AND shower. She was off to a good start. As she made her way to the kitchen (stumbling all the way) she heard someone talking... "John, she can't go there by herself. She's only 17." Her mother said quietly. Another voice is speaking. "Oh, c'mon, what do you want to do hold her hand all her life?? Besides she's going to go whether we want her to or not once she finds out. Her mom sighs and nods in agreement. "Ok, now what?? I guess she can go...She doesn't start school until January and she does need to get out..All right I'll- no you tell her." She enters the room knowingly... "Ok, where am I going?? And if you tell me that its with another relative...."She turned her head in a secretive smile...she liked her relatives...heh The tall man seated at the kitchen table gave her a funny little smile and says, "They've called you." "Who called??" She shot him a look that could chill even death. "THEY called--Nick, the Knighties. It does seem that you've been drafted!" Her mom finally gell in and gave up. A smile spread across her usually stolid face. "Really?? Nick!! WOOHOO!!!" "You have to go-" But before her father could finish Stephanie raced up to her room where she packed up some clothing and other various items. After giving the room a once over she rushed down stairs back to her parents. "Are you ready?? Wait um how am I getting there...and where am I going???" Her father just shook his head as he lead her out to the family van. *** Everything was explained in the rise to Buffalo international airport. She would take a shuttle up to Toronto where she would then take off for the loft. It disturbed her parents even more when Steph refused to give any information about why she was going there. Or even who she was going to see. After all what parent in their right mind who give their 17-yr-old daughter consent to spend a few weeks up in a 800-yr-old vamp's apartment...( not that they d believe that or anything *S*) After taking her backpack and suitcase up to the check in, she asked "Um hi, is there a ticked here for Stephanie??" The clerk gave the girl an odd look and nodded. "Thanks!" She would kiss her father good bye and off she was to see the *man*, the Knighties and, well, whatever else was in store for her. ***** by Sandra Gray Time: Aug. 13th, starting in early morning Places: Virginia, Washington, D.C. and Toronto Sandra pushed up her glasses and looked down at the ground as the plane departed from Weyers Cave airport, suppressing her vertigo to catch a last glimpse of the ground and her family. They had not been thrilled that she was going to Toronto, Nick's free airfare notwithstanding. She thought wistfully of the Saturday yard sales she'd be missing. And the county fair started on Sunday. But the Knighties needed her. Nick needed her. *Maybe I won't be gone that long.* In Washington, D.C. Sandra changed flights for the next leg of her journey to Toronto. She avoided looking out the window this time. Her feelings were mixed when she finally arrived in Toronto. She was glad to be there to help, but she also felt a strange foreboding as she headed for the loft. ***** By: Katrinka Katrinka couldn't believe that she received tickets to the Special Educators conference of Toronto that took place at the same time as the upcoming war. She also didn't believe how smoothly she had been allowed off for those two weeks. She had quit the Knightie leadership, but she couldn't let down Nick. Katrinka hailed a taxi, and told it to take her to the loft. Finis From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HAUn-0001cN-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 14:31:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7317; Wed, 18 Aug 99 14:19:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1541; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 14:19:54 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 14:19:50 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: Cousins: Enforcers en force 1/? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: da2feca38c087df6160dc1d978373ab1 War: Cousins: Enforcers en force 1/? McLisa smiled and waved as the CERK van, followed by Trine with a blowup doll in the form of LaCroix (don't ask! ) for appearance's sake, pulled up at the front door of Feliks Twist's townhouse. (Feliks himself was in Geneva attending an international banking conference, but she knew the door code from her stay last year. Then she looked again, and the smile became a grin. Grisha had replaced the doll and was obviously having a fine time testing the Saturn's capabilities. In the old days, when McLisa had been the assistant to the Enforcers' archivist and ex-officio den mother to the Enforcers at the archivist's mansion in New Jersey, Grisha had taught her a number of interesting Russian words and expressions which had unaccountably not appeared in her textbook. They had come in very handy for discouraging street urchins and beggar-children/pickpockets during her trip to St. Petersburg, Moscow and Kiev. All the Enforcers waved back. McLisa, after a number of years as big sister/keeper to her vampire baby brother, hacker extraordinaire Larry Merlin, had been completely innured to the little contretemps of Enforcer life, up to and including the sheep. (Don't ask about this one, either-- I don't know what that means. ) The minute she heard that her old pals were in town as emergency replacements for the local mortalized contingent, she had phoned an invitation. The local leader had been enabled by his temporary human status to blanch and decline. He said something about not betting on who was buried in Grant's Tomb. "Grisha, Micah," said McLisa, engulfed in a group hug and backslap, "Jean-Pierre!" So on through a roll call. "I was afraid you couldn't all make it." "For you, we wouldn't miss it." Chang brought up the rear into the house and closed the door. McLisa gestured them into the den, where the giant screen tv, the one that made Nick's look like a 13 incher, was turned on. A complete set of those videos that show all the gore that couldn't be shown on tv was cued up. For triple the price, the company had been happy to overnight them in. "Make yourself comfy, boys. I've got a special treat for you. Zombie Beachcombers!" ****************************************************************** No reasonable person could have blamed McLisa for what happened next. If only there had been any reasonable persons in Toronto for the war! After the tape set, the boys had begun watching late night wrestling, which they quickly denounced as sissy stuff for pantywaists, and then to a documentary on the Spanish Inquisition. They approved of that one, although Juan-Diego kept arguing and at one point criticized Torquemada for leniency. Then the news flash broke in, with Tawny Teller crouching behind a fire truck at the fire at the bottom of the CN Tower reporting on the fire at the top. At least, the reporters, even the ones who could see the pictures from the helicopter plainly kept calling it a fire. McLisa supposed none of them wanted to admit that flame source was not in fact a pile of rubbish which had somehow been smuggled up. Reporters, like police officers, firefighters and pilots like to eat. This means they like to keep their jobs. They couldn't be expected to admit that the flames were in fact coming from a giant green kiwi-bird, or that the crackling sounds included words. For one thing, a number of the words were not supposed to be allowed on the airwaves. McLisa and the Enforcers had no job worries. Plus, the boys were very fond of McLisa and didn't like it when she burst into tears and spilled the whole story about Dolticus. "Not to worry, McLisaka," said Grisha. "We'll get him for you." McLisa, downing her seventh Zombie Beachcomber, blew him a kiss. "Ochin karosho, Grinetchka! Can I watch?" "Yes,"objected Jean-Pierre, "but we'd better disguise ourselves first." And that was how, fifteen minutes later, a line of very large figures with a shorter one riding on the shoulders of the largest (Grisha) emerged from the Twist townhouse with burlap sacks over their heads and drop cloth cloaks, singing, "A hunting we will go!" True, every figure sang in a different key, but that didn't matter, since Billy-Bob's rebel yells deafened anyone in earshot anyhow. Several of the Enforcers had not been happy with the radioactive pink dye that made the drop sheets glow in the dark, the sheets having been used to shield the furniture at the end of the last war when Feliks was manufacturing glow in the dark pink aphids for sale to David Letterman viewers, but they were shushed by Grisha's threat to turn them out on the streets in their underwear. McLisa never quite understood why Tiny (so called because he made the average pro wrestler look like a Munchkin) had presented everybody with Barney underpants for Christmas, or even where he had found Barney underwear that fit. Some things were not meant to be comprehended by the strangest mortal minds. She gathered that when Tiny had suggested that everybody wear their Barneys for the outing, nobody had objected. Apparently they all remembered the incident of the Volkswagen and the water tower last time Tiny's feelings were hurt. The way cleared before them as if by magic. Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HAla-0004UG-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 14:48:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9299; Wed, 18 Aug 99 14:46:22 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6045; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 14:46:22 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 11:49:14 -0600 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: An Invitation to a Knight (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6b919e069564ae995d02e9d4bea98723 WAR: UF: An Invitation to a Knight (1/1) By: Les GS Setting: The Hive, UF HQ Time: Tuesday morning, August 17th The notion had struck her Saturday afternoon as she had wandered through the gardens around the Hive. The scent of fresh herbs had brought to mind one of Amie's favorite pastimes; attempting to recreate Medieval and Renaissance recipes. Of course, all she had to work with were old texts from those times and she could not be *sure* that the feasts she devised from them were truly authentic. That the tastes she created were the tastes the people of those days had experienced. She liked to think so, but, of course, she couldn't be sure. And she never would be, because she had no one to ask, no one who had feasted in those times, who could then taste what she had prepared and compare the two. Then, she paused in her thoughts, the scent of the rose she held to her nose unheeded. She *did* have someone she could ask. Her eyes fell to the rose in her hand. Her Rosee of Hennys... She could ask Nick. Nick was now mortal. He could taste-enjoy!-her Rosee of Hennys and then tell her if it were the same as that prepared hundreds of years ago. She would *know*! The lust of a scholar to know-whatever their discipline-is a powerful force. Which is why, in a few short days, she had managed to work her fellow UFfers around to her way of thinking. "It couldn't hurt to *ask*, after all," was the general consensus. Which was how it came to pass that a carefully composed note, on fine creamy white paper, was delivered to the Loft on the morning of Tuesday the 17th, safely tucked in the mail box. It read: Dearest Nick, One of our members, Amie LaRouche, a gourmet cook specializing in Medieval and Renaissance dishes, cherishes the ambition of preparing for you a meal. A serious student, she wishes to ascertain if the recipes she prepares, gleaned from texts of those times, are anything like what you remember. We would invite you to the Hive, but we realize that there is a War on, and that you'd be more comfortable being served such a dinner in your Loft. We understand it's presumptuous for us to invite ourselves into your home, but, if you would allow us, we give every assurance of our best behavior. And, of course, we would be honored to include in this feast any of the Knighties you might care to invite to join you. Hoping for your indulgence and with the highest regards, ~The Unnamed Faction From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HBLZ-00062e-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 15:26:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8241; Wed, 18 Aug 99 15:18:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5262; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 15:18:02 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 12:17:20 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--Tweedledum and Tweedledummer To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b5adf7d028470cee1565fab6abfde733 18 Aug 1999 The Jeweled Peach Toronto, ON 4:30 pm Tweedledum and Tweedledummer By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia The two men sat in the restaurant, one sporting a goatee and one wearing a most atrocious pair of sunglasses. They were the only patrons of the famous Jeweled Peach. "Don't you think you could remove those things? We *are* indoors. Where on earth did you get them, anyway? Those are perfectly horrible," Goatee said. Shades pushed the glasses on top of his head. "You-Know-Who has a pair just like them. I saw a picture on the cover of one of the rags." "You-Know-Who?" "Yes. Big star, action movies mostly." "Uh-huh. Well they're still horrible." Shades shrugged. Just then, the door opened and two women walked in. They looked around, apparently admiring the Peach's decor. Because the men were encamped in a corner booth, the women couldn't see them. Goatee and Shades watched with interest. Goatee leaned over. "Whaddya think? Interior design students?" "Nah, insurance adjusters, maybe." The women stolled though, ignoring the two men. They conferred in whispers. The men strained, but try as they might, they could not overhear the conversation. So they guessed. "Wait," Goatee said, "I think I get it. They are discussing camera angles." "Camera angles," Shades repeated. "Sure. They're producers! This place is gonna be the location of a series!" "A series? Here? In this restaurant?" "Haven't you ever seen 'Alice'?" "That was a diner." Goatee shrugged. "Okay, well, how about 'It's a Living', then? Trust me, I have a feeling for these things." And he did have a feeling for such matters. However, the feeling he had was generally 180 degrees in the opposite direction from the truth. The women turned suddenly and rushed out of the restaurant, leaving a puzzled duo at their table. "Wonder what that was about," Shades mused. Suddenly, images of a nearly bald man and a certain purple dinosaur flodded the room. There was music; well, maybe not music, but that annoying song that is so often played in association with said purple dinosaur. From another direction, the Vaquero, Vaqueras, and Vachon rushed in to check on things. After looking around briefly, the group spread out, looking for the source of the images and song. They discovered the two men in the corner booth. Vachon stared at Shades. Shades stared back. Finally Vachon shook his head and turned away. "Nah, couldn't be," he said. "What's going on in here," Teresita asked. The group blinked at each other and shrugged. "Hey, you two," Rae addressed the pair, "did you see anything?' Goatee turned to Shades. "Nothing unusual. The producers stopped by." Vachon looked to Melissa. "Did he say 'producers'?" She nodded. Vachon turned to Tammy. "What producers?" "I don't know," she answered. Goatee spoke up. "You guys don't have to keep it a secret from us, we're in the business." Tabitha leaned over to Imajiru. "Right. They're in the business." "Yup," Shades put in, "we know all about the series." Cliff nudged Felicia. "What the heck are they talking about?" "I've no idea, but we're fixin' to find out." She approached the table, the rest of the entourage behind her. "Say, fellas, just what exactly did these *producers* look like?" Shades looked thoughtful. "Oh, you know the type. Conservatively dressed, neat hair,. . ." "Yeah, and one carried a coat of some kind, and a black bag." Rae frowned. "A coat? What color was it?" "White." "A white coat, who would carry a white coat?" "Well, it's not Labor Day yet." "I don't think they have that in Canada." "Wait! Wait just a minute! I know who would carry a white coat," Erica said. "A doctor." "She's right," Echo agreed, " a doctor would carry a white *lab* coat." "Oh, and that could explain the black bag, too. Like a medical bag." Rae turned to Felicia. "Makes some sense, I guess." "C'mon, Troops, we've got plans to make," the Vaq Adj said. She turned and started down the hall. The Vaqs followed. "But wait, Feleesh,", Vachon said, "this wasn't directed at us. It was aimed at the Nunkies Addicts." Felicia rolled her eyes. "Details, Javier, details." Shades and Goatee exchanged puzzled looks. "Weird bunch." "Yup." "Come on, there's a souvlaki joint across town." The two men left. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2 Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!). Y'all think we're thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . . . _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HBcH-0006YC-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 15:43:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0255; Wed, 18 Aug 99 15:41:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9901; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 15:41:11 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 14:42:58 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: The 1003rd Use For Marmite (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2faeddf21bfc2f830c39c504eef93f6d NA: The 1003rd Use For Marmite (1/1) by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Dragon Sallie & her pocket blowtorch, KC, Arymede, and Cousin Erik Location: The Church Time: Tuesday Afternoon, after 'KC Saves the Day' It started simply enough. While the Buff Slave Boys spit and polished the church, Sallie went about a similar studious scrubbing of her tesserect remote, using the world most closely guarded cleaning secret: Marmite (Use #1001) The yeast extract spread had special properties of dissolving even the most stubborn grime. Even super-glue couldn't hold up to this miraculous compound. The dust Sallie's tesserect had acquired in the police evidence locker was no match whatsoever. Then Sallie slipped on a wet patch, and her Marmite jar went flying, smack dab into a waste bucket of feathers, paint and Silly String the Buff Slave Boys had scooped off the floor. As the Dragon peered into the large metal pail, she was disappointed to find the entire jar of condiment had been upended into the refuse. Upon second examination, Sallie realized that the chunky mixture looked extremely interesting, and very, *very* flammable. "Heehee," Dragon tittered. Out popped her pocket blowtorch. It's been noted earlier in this war how burning the concoction of feathers, paint, and Silly String was, yes, very flammable, and when exposed to fire, it pretty much became *burnt* feathers, paint, and Silly String with an appropriate accompanying odor. When Marmite is added to the mix, however, strange and mystical things happen. The goo began to bubble and shift, at first glittering with an inner heat. It phased through colors: first a murky green, then a dysfunctional brown, then it seemed to catch alight, burning, flaming glowing.... When the fire burned down, Sallie was left with a bucket full of Evil Pink liquid. "Interesting," Sallie said, though not as nearly impressed as she would have been had the result been golden in shade. Still curious in nature, Dragon picked up a piece of litter, a page torn out of one of the old, dusty hymnals, then dipped it in the brew. Within seconds, the paper coated in pink solidified, hardening into a steel-like plate. "Hmm." Sallie took her new Evil Pink plate across the room, found two abandoned crates, and placed the plate so it bridged across the two boxes, its only support at the rim. Then she unpacked her extremely large sword. *SWOOSH! KLANGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!* The sound of metal hitting *something?* reverberated through the church. Sallie felt the vibration from impact travel up her blade and along her arms, and experienced a ringing in her ears. The Evil Pink plate remained intact. "Unexpected," Sallie observed, her eyes gleaming behind her glasses. She tapped the shoulder of one of the industrious slave boys, motioning for the 200-plus pound buff male to step up on the plate...just to see what would happen. The Evil Pink plate remained intact. "Astounding," Sallie tittered. She drafted more and more slave boys, finding the plate remarkably resilient, yet inconvenient small for more than three pairs of feet to latch on to a toehold. The weight-bearing load capacity of the paper had increased hundreds of factors with the coat of Evil Pink varnish. What other wondrous properties might it have? Sallie shooed the Buff Slave Boys back to their work. She then swished into the infamous Evil Pink Bathroom. Struck by the horror of it, Sallie took off her spectacles. Uncorrected vision relaxed the damage of the nefarious color tremendously. Dragon filled the bathtub, then submerged the Evil Pink plate to test if it was water soluble. After an hour's nap, Sallie woke to discover the water had absolutely no effect of the Evil Pinkness of the paper's coating. "Heehee," Sallie said, for she had just come up with an idea. Moving back into the main part of the church, Sallie tracked down KC, who was overseeing the cleanup, working mightily hard at lounging in her lawn chair. "What can I do ya for?!" KC chirped happily. "That messy goop the Vaqs left," Sallie said, "is there any more?" "Sure there is! I told all the Buff Slave Boys to have a jello snack on their break, then dump all the muck buckets in the moat!" "And your kiddie pool filled with primordial goo - can I use it?" KC frowned. Her primordial goo was pretty kickin' stuff, and the source of much of her evil. "Why do you want it?" Sallie wiggled her talons (okay, really long fingernails) vaguely. "I'm just having fun with my blowtorch." KC considered that. Kicks with open flames were The Addict Way. Besides, her primordial goo was really Marmite (Use #1002), so she could always send Kevin for some refills. "Knock yourself out." So Sallie pulled KC's kiddie pool filled with primordial goo (a.k.a. Marmite) outside the church toward the moat filled with feathers, paint and Silly String, and lavishly dumped its contents with extreme prejudice. She stirred, she hummed, she set things on fire. It was quite a delightful half hour, to see a flaming moat circling the church. Dragon's heart swelled with pride. Three Buff Slave Boys exited the church, eager for a cool and jiggley snack. Their faces fell as the found the moat filled with bubbling Evil Pink liquid. "What? No more jello?" Sallie had another idea. There was a hole in the roof, covered only with a plastic tarp, and the weather forecast predicted rain. "Can you get a ladder and some paint brushes? I have a job for you." ****************************************************************** After a few more hours had passed, KC surveyed the improvements she'd made on the church interior with pride. It was less greasy, and almost livable now. She gathered the Buff Slave Boys around her and commended them for a job well done. Keeping with their old routine, they fell to their knees and thanked KC for allowing them to serve her. KC's pleasure was short-lived, however. She'd done a swift head-count of Buff Slave Bodies, and noticed there were three missing. "I won't have it!" KC screeched. "A trio of slackers?!? Not in my temple!!!" Storming around the inside of the Church, KC realized they *weren't* under her roof. Annoyed, KC marched outside, looking for some heads to thwap. Curious at what the Kissing Cousin might do next, several Addicts, including Arymede, followed. They found Sallie, sans bifocals, tittering away, clutching her sides. "Did you know that cooking Marmite with feathers, paint and Silly String makes Evil Pink Enamel?" (Use #1003) A mystified KC turned around, the Evil Freshman right beside her. Their eyes boggled at the terror that was the church. It was entirely Evil Pink!! They clutched their eyes, writhing and screaming, "THE GLARE!!! MY EYES!!! I'M BLIND!!! I'M MELTING!!! WHAT A WORLD!!!" KC frantically clawed at her pockets, searching for some deliverance as she squeezed her eyes shut. "A-ha!" Out came two pairs of eyewear, both tinted an offensive shade of green. Popping one pair over her ears and thrusting the other set Ary's way, KC opened her eyes to see the world through new eyes. "Ahh...I knew there was a reason Snixco makes Lime Colored Glasses other than oppressing Ratpackers! They filter everything Evil Pink into Benign Brown!" "Yeah," Ary said, opening her eyes with relief, "Only these glasses make everything else look weird, too. Shele bears a scary resemblance to a giant cucumber." "Aw! Stop yer fussin', Freshman!" KC patted Sallie on the back. "I couldn't have turned the Church into a Hostess Sno-Ball better myself," she congratulated. For that's the color the church was now: the plastic-y coating had turned it an Evil, Evil Pink, waterproof, and able to sustain the weight of all the sumo wrestlers Japan had to offer. Sallie preened. "I haven't figured out what dissolves it yet, but I will," she said, holding up one taloned hand. "I got some on my nails, and the acetone just isn't cutting it." Cousin Erik made the mistake of coming outside to see what all the uproar was about. He took one look at the Evil Pinkness of the church, yelped, "Holy Pepto-Bismol!!" then fainted dead away in Ary's arms. ********************************************************************** Fin for now... Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HBdb-0006pV-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 15:44:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8446; Wed, 18 Aug 99 15:39:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9721; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 15:39:39 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 15:42:23 -0400 Reply-To: Soulseeker Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Soulseeker Subject: War: N&NPack: Tuesday Night Madness To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 27d09385d0d744f662c4ae1d5979fce1 War: N&NPack: Tuesday Night Madness by Soulseeker and the N&NPack Tuesday, Aug 17/99 Evening "It was finally quiet in the theatre," that was Soulseeker's first thought as she made her way back to her office. It had been a wild night at the theatre. The N&NPack loudly enjoyed a series of Nick & Nat music videos that Marci had put together. A presentation from 'The Nuts' of their latest NNAdult stories followed the music videos. Laughter had echoed through the theatre when Carrie began comedic acting of several scenes.Soulseeker could still hear Carrie' s voice , "Nick...oh, Niiiicccck," in her head. Soulseeker asked Amanda to hide all the wine after she discovered someone had spiked the punch. She had a pretty good idea who the culprits were and after a quick conversation with Laila, Raelynne and Korasia she figured they would have more than a few regrets when they woke up in the morning. Laila considered her part in it pay back for her very magneta hair, Raelynne was up for an adventure and Korasia was sure she could paint well. Half an hour later the past out culprits, several members of the Nuts, were sporting new faces. Monique ended up with a face that matched her favorite sucker and Shannon's face resembled a green alien. Soulseeker chuckled when she saw the completed work and figured it was the just thing, after all having tipsy and past out warriors when an attack could come at any moment was not something a leader could tolerate. Having finally made it to her office Soulseeker was relieved to see Chana and Susan relaxing on the chairs. "Rough night?" asked Chana with a grin. "Yep," she replied as she dropped onto the sofa. "I'm glad I missed most of the fun, " yawned Susan. "Any word on what's what happening with the other factions?" Soulseeker questioned. "Nothing," Susan sighed, "I sent out a team to recon a couple of the key HQs." "Good, good. Any luck finding out more information on the missing elements Chana?" "Not so far. I'll keep looking. There has to be a description somewhere." A knock on the door startled all three N&NPackers. The door opened to reveal a rather shaken looking Mary and Michelle . Before anyone could say anything Mary stated in a rather shaky voice, "Rats." "Huh?" Susan asked looking rather puzzled. "Rats," replied Michelle. "Lots of rats," clarified Mary. Sharing a confused look with Chana, Soul asked, "Where?" "Here." Mary and Michelle responded in unison. "What?!" came Chana's startled exclamation. Soulseeker looked a little horrified as she and Susan got up and headed for the door. After urging a reluctant Michelle to show them where the rats were, they followed her down into the basement. Upon reaching the bottom step, Soulseeker peeked around the corner. She noticed Amanda and Sherry on a table armed with brooms. After a brief glance at the floor she realized why. In plain sight were two rather large rats. Soulseeker, as brave as she was, wasn't going to take a step further. "An attack?" questioned Susan, who being a little braver, step down the last step. "The Ratpack, do you think?" asked a thoughtful Michelle. Before Soulseeker could respond a newspaper was shoved into her hands. After a quick glance she sighed, "No, not an attack. With no Screed Toronto has been over run with rats. We'll need to find a solution to this problem. Can't live with rats." "Cats," piped up a voice from somewhere behind her. "Cats?" Soulseeker asked sounds a little confused. "Where there are cats we don't have rats," the voice of wisdom explained. A smile broke over everyone's face they warmed to the idea. "Considering the number of rats we'll need lots of cats," reasoned Susan as she watched one of the rats scurry away. "But where will be get a bunch of cats?" Amanda called out from her position on top of the table. A few minutes later Soulseeker grinned the grin every N&NPacker knew well, "I know exactly where we can get some cats." Then she was gone. SOULSEEKER soulseeker@sprint.ca * soulseeker1@acmecity.com N&NPack Faction Leader-*-Lonely Hearts Co Faction Leader From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HD8C-0001rE-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 17:20:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9264; Wed, 18 Aug 99 17:08:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2215; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 17:08:55 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 16:05:19 -0500 Reply-To: Susan Nix Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Nix Subject: WAR: NA: Don't We Feel Sheepish? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 696f850efba3a696c1ff41c4332d0813 NA: Don't We Feel Sheepish? (1/1) By KC Susan Nix, Great Goddess Kevin used with permission Time: After "1003 Uses for Marmite" and "Nights in Black Leather", a laughable attempt Place: The Altar of the Church. Kevin, KC's main Buff Slave Boy, ran panting up to the Great One as she was admiring her own quite lovely visage in stone. "Mistress KC! Something terrible has happened to your room! The Vaqs have de-tastified it! Done godawful things to your glorious abode! Even burned your Snixco Catalogues!" Kevin was in a frenzy. KC merely smiled her trademark Grinchy Grin. "Good! Then everything went as planned!" she beamed happily. Kevin looked utterly confused. "Pardon?" he said. KC sighed a condescending sigh and sat down at a now non-greasy pew with her punkin. "Kevy, Kevy...you didn't think my room would be in plain sight of those simps, did you?" she smiled. "Um...No?" "Of course not! I didn't be this evil and live this long by being stupid! No, my lair actually has been moved to the Church in the form of the cheesy spaceship set! That's where I spend my nights in shag carpeting! I can sleep every night in my own monument to my greatness!" "Gads, but you're a genius!" Kevin marveled. "But what about that bedroom they found?" "Decoy." KC explained patiently. "You see, I knew those amateur thugs would try something like this, so I had that room set up for them to damage, just to make them get off their tushies and...work! MUAHAHAHAHA!" Kevin joined his mistress in evil laughter as they walked into the section of the Church that housed KC's *real* bedroom. "Mistress, what about those Snixco catalogues?" Kevin asked when they had finished their chuckle. "I'm the president of the company, Silly Head! I have more catalogues than I know what to do with right here!" They both laughed once again at KC's genius. The End! MUAHAHAHA! From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HDEf-0001J5-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 17:27:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3250; Wed, 18 Aug 99 17:20:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4333; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 17:20:46 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 21:22:35 GMT Reply-To: "Mildred G. Cady" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Mildred G. Cady" Subject: WAR: DP/RAVEN/MERC: The Plastering Party (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2ae751ea3fdb0d2e309918c03332d157 DP/RAVEN/MERC: The Plastering Party (1/2) by Mildred G. Cady (Merc Mommy General) Time/Place: Tuesday (8/17), Afternoon at the Raven Janette, Tracy, Raven/ettes, the Raven, and DP used with permission. Michel Saint-Louis is an entirely fictional character, created by Mildred. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Michel stopped the rental truck outside of the Raven. The bouncer was at the door, looking a little groggy. I bet he's not used to being awake so early, he thought. "Monssie, I am here to see Janette and Tracy." Michel went around to open the back of the truck, when the bouncer called out. "You Michael?" "Michel... oui." The bouncer shrugged. He was used to the boss-lady's accent, but she usually made the effort to speak English to him most of the time. He walked over to the smaller man just in time to be handed a heavy bucket of plaster. "Merci. Now, please direct me to the ladies?" ---- Shana, Mary, Kimberly, and the combined forces of the Dark Perks and the Ravenettes were gathered at the tables, waiting. They could hardly believe it when Janette and Tracy had told them this artist guy was coming over to make statues of their idols. But Janette had put them to work, clearing a center area and laying down a large plastic tarp. And then their jaws dropped when they saw Janette and Tracy come out in shorts and tank tops, with terry cloth robes open over them. The Ravenettes jaws dropped further when they saw that the outfits were cotton. Janette was wearing plain cotton, and white cotton at that. Janette had someone grab a couple empty crates and set them up in the middle of the tarp. Ignoring the gasps of the crowd, she asked "Tracy, do you remember what else Michel said to do?" "I think this is it." Just then, the inside door opened up. The bouncer staggered in with two heavy buckets, followed by one of the most beautiful men the Ravenettes or the Dark Perks had ever seen. Michel stood about 6'1", of a slender build, but he was having no trouble with the buckets that he had, unlike the bouncer. His hair was long and curly, coffee brown with some streaks of cream in the front, pulled away from his face. His outfit did him the ultimate justice- combat boots, well cut blue jeans, spattered with white marks, and a t-shirt that molded just right to his body; not to tight, but not loose. One of the Ravenettes thought it was wonderful that there were still young men who knew how to wear jeans correctly, instead of halfway to their ankles. As he walked over, set his buckets on the tarp, and then went over to Tracy and Janette. He took the hand that Janette offered, gently kissed it, and did the same to Tracy. "Bonjour, mesdemoiselles, a merci." "ohh.. he's *french*" Shana whispered to Mary. Kimberly nodded. "Did you see his eyes?" Michel's eyes sparkled a vivid emerald green. Janette spoke to the young artist. "Michel, these ladies are our friends. They were, concerned, about us being alone with a strange gentleman, so they insisted that they supervise. If that is no trouble...?" "Non. A votre service, mesdemoiselles. I am Michel Saint-Louis. This will take a while, so I hope you will not become bored. I have a few more things to get from the truck." "Oh I'll help!" There were about 4 DPs and a Ravenette who jumped up from their chairs and rushed over to the door. Tracy looked at Janette and giggled at the antics of the other women. Michel just smiled and ushered the ladies to get more supplies. Soon there were buckets of plaster, a couple of fans, and a box sitting on the tarp. The crates Janette had called for were moved to the the sides and the fans were placed on them. Two very short massage tables were also set up on the tarp, with a hole cut out of each one. "Mesdemoiselles, I usually do a full body cast in two parts. You must choose in which order I go in- front or back first?" Tracy looked at Janette and said "Back first?" When Janette nodded, Michel took a couple of swim caps and a large jar of vasoline from the box. "If you would be so kind and tuck your hair under these. Do you have the undergarments we discussed? Oui? Bon, then strip down to them and lie down on a table, your face within the opening...." The DP and the Ravenettes were horrified when Tracy and Janette took off the shorts and tank tops to reveal plain cotton underwear and bras. Michel, to their relief, didn't ogle the women. In fact, he had little reaction at all. One woman next to the bouncer thwapped him and hold him to go outside and watch for anyone coming, and he sulked away, eyes stuck on the floor show. "Tut tut ladies, we are in the presense of an artist," said Janette. "They don't belong to the catagory of *mundane* humans..." Once the two women were settled onto the massage tables, Michel massaged liberal amounts of vasoline into their skin. He explained to everyone that this would make the casts come off easily, and prevent any hair from being torn out from the dried plaster. To everyone's relief, Michel didn't "try anything funny". Tracy asked if he had taken massage classes. Michel just answered, "Non," and continued to put the shiny salve on her skin. "Si vous p'lait, may someone could put on some soothing music to pass the time while the plaster dries?" _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HDWk-00031d-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 17:45:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3371; Wed, 18 Aug 99 17:36:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6517; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 17:36:03 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 10:56:50 -0500 Reply-To: Lisa Luksus Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: CUZ: RATS! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a81059c2333bbca647d0d53a1305f400 RATS! by Cousin Tok Time: around dawn, Tuesday, August 17th shortly after " A General EnCanter" Tok awoke with a start, dislodging dear Miss Willow from her place by Mom's feet and earning Tok some very un-PG-13 kitty cussing. What a nightmare that had been! All the other factions had been chasing her through the streets, led by a group of giant Day-planners. She shuddered, and shook her head to dispel the image. A quick look around showed her that Gandalf and Merlin, the former vamp-kitties, weren't there with the others. Ever since they'd been returned to mortality, they'd been feeling their mortal ages and been correspondingly grouchy. Maybe she should track them down and make sure they were okay. It wasn't like she'd be getting back to sleep any time soon. After dressing, Tok slipped quietly downstairs to the dungeon, where Gandalf had been prone to hang out in his vamp-kitty days. She was almost to his chamber when she heard an odd scrabbling. For a moment it sounded like the old days, when Gandalf and Merlin would play-wrestle through the house. But there were too *many* feet scrabbling, more than the eight accounted for by the cats. And they sounded smaller too, more like ... "RATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she screeched as Gandalf and Merlin rounded the corner chased by a horde of the beasties. Part of Tok's mind thought that her voice teacher would've been proud of the note she hit, as she lead the retreat towards the main stairs. Tok and the kitties burst through the first-floor door, pursued by a ratly crew that included a few glowing pink individuals (obviously, last year's rat clean-up had missed a few). They beat feet toward the lobby, Tok entertaining the notion that maybe the rats would all run outside and leave them alone. The Cousinly receptionist (who was on duty now? Tok couldn't remember) was napping at her desk when Gandalf rose up to the top of the computer monitor. Merlin chose the filing cabinet as his refuge. Following the feline instinct to go to higher ground, Tok leapt and wrapped herself around the upper torso of the figure who'd just entered. She closed her eyes tight and held on, so she didn't see the fanfic fairies holding the door open so all the rats could leave. Soon, it was quiet. *Too* quiet, Tok realized as she opened her eyes and looked at her rescuer. "Um, I, ah ..." she squeaked, looking into the General's extremely annoyed face. She immediately let go and fell to the floor. "I'm sorry, sir, it's just that there were so many of them ..." The General's glare cut her off. "I don't want to hear it, Tok. There's another problem -- Tser has been kidnapped. By an insane Addict who seems to be under the impression that she's Caligula." Quickly, he described the scene in the alley. "I expect more from my faction leaders. Do something about the situation," he ordered as he stepped around her and headed toward the elevator to the penthouse. "Well, I suppose I could get the GSS to help." The thought of venturing back downstairs was too much to bear, though. She crawled over to the reception desk and pulled herself to her feet. The receptionist had wisely decided to stay out of things and had chosen this time to visit the ladies' room after her rude awakening. Tok found the Cousinly directory and started dialing GSS numbers. Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HDlm-0003og-01; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 18:01:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9577; Wed, 18 Aug 99 17:41:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7052; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 17:41:09 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 17:42:12 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: WAR: ENFORCERS: Cars and Carts (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4c6e0922685e676f0515d63513b37dce Title: Cars and Carts Written By: Enid Rodriguez (Supply Lieutenant) Time: 7:00pm, Wednesday, August 18, 1999 Place: Toronto Fellow Enforcers Steve and Jen used with permission "Blackwood Arms Hotel" is a fictional hotel I have invented located in the heart of the city, however any faction my use it, with my permission of course. ------------------------------------------------------------- Enid's hotel suite at the Blackwood Arms Enid was strapping on a black holster holding her silver daggers when the phone rang. "Rodriguez" she quickly said picking up the receiver. "Hey, what's up?" a male voice shot through. Enid glared at the receiver, "May I ask who is calling?" She asked coldly, not recognizing the voice. "Oh come on, your killing me..." The voice began to complain. Enid knew that whine. "Oh hey Steve." It was Steve, the Enforcers tactical lieutenant. "Nothin' much besides laughing at our little victory this morning. Enid grinned, "You are evil Steve." she giggled. "Meow baby!" Steve laughed into the phone. "Hey, Steve. I was just heading out, but the with the money I've spent on cab fares lately....." Enid began to say, but was quickly interrupted. "Say no more, I am at Headquarters now, but gimme me and Jen about 20 minutes, okay?" Enid smiled, grateful he asked. "Okay, thanks." She agreed. ------------------------------------------------------- Enforcer Steve's Car Same Night, 7:30 PM "So, back to HQ?" Steve asked, making a turn a light. Enid pulled out her wallet and counted the bills. "Nope, L-mart." she answered not bothering to look up. "L-mart?" Jen asked from the back-seat. "Yeah I was hoping to pick up some..Steve look out!!!!!" Enid screamed pointing to the road. Steve quickly jerked the wheel. "OH @#$%!" He yelled. The car swerved at bit as Steve pulled over. "Everyone okay?" Steve asked his passengers. "Yeah, I think so." She answered, her voice cracking a bit. "I'm fine."Jen added. Steve turned a bright shade of red as he rolled down the window. "Why don't you watch where the *&^%$ you are going you @#$%! You almost @$%$ killed us, you ^%$#@!!!" "Calm down Steve." Jen said trying to pry him away from the window. After a few deep breaths, and a swig of something from the flask in the dashboard, Steve finally calmed down. "Did anyone see who almost ran us off the road?" Steve asked, adjusting his London Fog coat. "No, it was a blur...do you think they knew Us?" Steve looked at Enid and then Jen, and shrugged. "Who knows? ----------------------------------------------------- Place: The superstore L-mart Enid strained to push the shopping cart, but Steve sitting in it with his feet dangling out wasn't helping. " Steve, I can't push this thing with you in it." Steve leaned back and rested his head against his hands. "Too bad, I've gave you a lift and now you are giving me one." She then cocked his eyebrow at Jen who giggled. "I knew there was a catch..." Enid mumbled under her breath. They finally reached the aisle they were looking for. "Here they are!" Enid exclaimed picking up a small purple box. "Should we get Dancing Glitter Toads or Sparkling Fire Puppies?" Steve grabbed the box and examined it. "What are these exactly?" Steve asked like a true man. "Nail decals." Enid answered "They go on top off the nail polish." Jen explained. Steve's eyes lit up. "Like car decals?" Enid smiled and patted her partner in crime on the arm. "Exactly." "These are sooooo ugly." Steve remarked. "And hard to get off." Jen added. Steve's eyes got even bigger when he realized why she was buying the nasty things. "You are evil!" Steve grinned. "Meow baby!" Enid grinned back. Throughout L-Mart you could hear the three enforcers giggling. From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HDz8-0004PI-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 18:15:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3616; Wed, 18 Aug 99 18:09:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0965; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 18:09:44 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 15:12:23 -0700 Reply-To: "Shana N." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Shana N." Subject: WAR: Raven/DP/Merc: Plastering Party 2/2 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6dffd7ae3abac686d52f8337a23b4b25 {posted at the behest of Mildred--Shana, DP 2IC} I'm trying to send this again, because I was silly and forgot to check to make sure it had the WAR: prefix... For which I profusely apologize. Shana has agreeded to help... DP/RAVEN/MERC: The Plastering Party (2/2) by Mildred G. Cady (Merc Mommy General) Time/Place: Tuesday (8/17), Afternoon at the Raven While Kimberly put on some soft Sarah MacLachlan on the Raven's sound system, Michel began to scoop plaster into his hands, checking the temperature. "Pardon, but it will be a little cold... not too much..." With that, he began to mold the wet plaster onto Tracy's back. It seemed like no time at all until he had finished both Tracy and Janette, positioned the fans to help speed the drying, and asked if the two women wanted something to drink. Tracy asked for water, and Janette asked for orange juice. >From their seats at the bar, Mary said to Shana, "Thank goodness there's only DP and Ravenettes here. Imagine what anyone else would do watching this? Or took pictures?" Shana nodded. Kimberly couldn't help but giggle a little at the picture that her idol Janette and Tracy made, sipping drinks through straws while mud dried on their bodies. Michel then deemed the plaster dry, and gently took the light-weight casts off of the two women. He set them into boxes filled with sand and took warm water to wash the remnants of plaster and vasoline from their backs. While drying them off, he told them "You may wish to drink again, and perhaps eat. The next part will cover your faces." Michel helped them into the robes. Kimberly handed Jeanette a small glass of wine, while Mary gave Tracy an iced cappuchino. Michel set about mixing the plaster, making sure it was smooth before going on. He motioned the ladies back to the tables when they were done, and brought out two sets of clear plastic tubing. He instructed the ladies to lie down on their backs. This time, the holes cradled their heads, making their necks comfortable. "Now, these tubes will allow you to breath. This cast will be done in two parts, so that the plaster will not be on your faces the entire time." After spreading vasoline on her face, he fitted the tubes inside the Tracy's nose. If it had been anyone else, the DP would have been rolling on the floor at the sight. As it was, the Ravenettes were giggling. Quickly, Michel started molding plaster, taking care around the eyes, mouth, and nose. Upon finishing with Tracy, he repeated the procedure with Janette. After these casts were dry, he set them into boxes and placed a warm damp cloth over Janette and Tracy's faces. With the same professionalism as before, he put the vasoline then the plaster over the two women, and waited for it to dry. The audience, far from being bored, watched every move her made. Not only was he a gentleman and professional in how he touched the two women, he looked damn good bending over. To soon Michael was packing the last of the dried plaster away. "You'll want to take a long hot shower soon, to wash off any plaster and the vasoline. I'll contact you when they're done, but I should have Tracy's done first." Janette looked confused. Michel put her fears aside, "The pink marble came in, I'm still waiting for your cream marble to arrive." "Oh, that is fine." *Fine?* Shana thought... "Did he say that Tracy's statue was going to be pink marble?" Mary smiled, "Yes!" Within a half hour, everything was packed into the rental truck and Michel was saying his goodbyes to everyone. Tracy and Janette again received gallant kisses on the back of the hand. "Adieu, Janette and Tracy. Perhaps I shall see you again, my angels." The last bit was addressed to the collective sigh. ----------- He went outside and got into the truck. When he got back to the warehouse Mildred set up for him to work in, there was a note for him to call her. She picked up on the first ring. "Michel?" "Oui." "How did it go?" "Very well." "Did they ask you much about who you were and why you're in Toronto?" "Non." "Oh, Good!" Fin From - Wed Aug 18 18:46:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HERW-0001ui-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 18:44:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3766; Wed, 18 Aug 99 18:42:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3426; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 18:42:04 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 16:46:49 -0600 Reply-To: Kimberly Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: "Standing Guard In The Shadows" Part 1 of 1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 10347d2697df697464abdd10350e5fba This story takes place concurrently with The Mercs' Story, "The Plastering Party" which was written by Mildred G. Cady "Standing Guard In The Shadows" by Kimberly S. Brown Miklos may have become mortal like the rest of the vampires, but he was still very strong and in terrific shape. While the female Dark Perks and Ravenettes stayed close to Tracy and Janette during the casting, they were not the only ones taking care of security procedures. Miklos and Alexander had checked out the Raven, floor to ceiling, and inside and out. They were standing in the shadows, observing the proceedings from beginning to end, in a special little hiding place that Miklos shared the knowledge of with only Alexander. They both cared tremendously for Janette and the other Ravenettes. Together they voluntarily took on the responsibility of securing the Raven and its' occupants in what was often a thankless job. But as Alexander reminded Miklos only that morning, the way they knew they were doing their job well was that no one noticed that they were doing it. The two male Ravens of the faction had a good laugh about that and other little ironies of life, and had continued with their thorough inspection of the Raven. They were done about a half an hour before the company arrived, and were now firmly ensconed in their hiding place. Michel Saint Louis was indeed a very professional artist, and everything went quite well. Alexander and Miklos had never seen Janette "dressed down" before, but they had never been around her as a mortal before, either. Life in Toronto was very topsy-turvy this time out. The men did everything they could to just roll with the punches. When the casting was over, and the ladies dispersed, the two male Ravens walked to the bar together. "Would you care to join me in a scotch, Alexander," Miklos said as he went behind the bar to pour one for himself. "Love one, thank you, yes!" Alexander said enthusiastically. The two men settled in the bar together for a little male bonding and a lot of scotch. They congratulated each other most heartily on their efforts and their success in not being discovered. Alexander and Miklos were both looking forward to seeing the end result of Michel's work. end -- Kimberly Ravenettes faction leader, war 10 aol im kimmertom icq #9306895 http://members.tripod.com/LeeAnnP/raven/index.htm http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu From - Wed Aug 18 18:51:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HEV9-0005iA-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 18:48:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3789; Wed, 18 Aug 99 18:46:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3773; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 18:46:04 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 17:47:55 -0500 Reply-To: Kalira Isbell Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kalira Isbell Subject: WAR: HAREM: Solitude at Last To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 894f954bf73349ff130e6a3cea4644ee Title: Solitude at Last by: KaliraRael Place: Harem HQ Time: Friday 13th 9:45 pm During: Harem: So Much To Do! (2/2) Before: Harem: It's a Battle to the Death! The door closed behind KaliraRael with a soft click. Slowly, she began to feel the tension ebb from the shoulders and back. 'Elements, what a day!' she thought. Shaking her head, she dragged her feet over to her luggage. Unzipping the largest bag, she pulled out her double size air mattress and pump. As she plugged the pump into the wall outlet, she wondered what else could possibly go wrong. Half expecting the outlet to be dead, she turned the pump on and was pleasantly surprised to hear it hiss. She connected it to her mattress, then turned and unpacked her sheets, blankets and pillows. Once the mattress was full, she placed the stopper and made up the bed. Then she turned on her personal CD player, turned the volume down low, and played her Natural Celtic CD. As the music soothed her nerves, she began her yoga routine. One hour later, totally relaxed at last, she settled into bed and pulled out a book to read. There was supposed to be a party at the Raven tonight, but with everything that had happened, she decided a good nights sleep would be better for her. After all, there would be other parties. 'Party......oh, heck!' she remembered. 'We are supposed to have a party here on the 19th. I just hope that handyman...... (what was his name again? Oh yeah, Angus.) can get everything in proper working order by then.' She sighed heavily, then went back to her reading. Fifteen minutes later, the words started blurring on the pages. Not surprising when you've only had a few hours sleep in three days. What with the excitement of being invited, the troubles getting here, and the mayhem once having arrived. Rolling over, KaliraRael turned out the light and curled into her large "Nick Substitute" pillow. It didn't work very well, but it was better than not having anything with which to cuddle. A couple minutes later, she was dropping off to sleep. "Squeak." KaliraRael sat up, turned on the light, and found herself face to whiskers with a rat. She blinked at the rat a couple of times. The rat blinked back. With another sigh, she turned the light back off, laid down and said, "Just don't eat my book, okay?" From - Wed Aug 18 19:10:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HEnE-0006YD-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:06:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0149; Wed, 18 Aug 99 19:04:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5466; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:04:36 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:08:40 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack: The Masterless Factor To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3dad7d749ccfa121ed0ed43d0adaedc3 War: N&NPack: The Masterless Factor By: Susan B. Place: N&NPack HQ Date: About 10:00 AM, Tuesday Aug.17 ---------------- Susan was sitting on the couch in the office mulling over the events of the last few days when someone tapped twice on the door. Carrie, one hand hidden behind her back, immediately stepped in. "You wanted to see me?" she asked. "Yup. Come and sit down," Susan replied. "You weren't followed by anyone were you?" Mumbling "paranoid" under her breath, Carrie whipped her hand out from behind her back. "Only by my alien and he won't talk," she promised. "You know what I mean, Carrie. You weren't followed by any sympathizers or... Addicts." Both N&Ners cringed as unwanted mental images of a toga clad LaCroix crept into their brains. "Mary's keeping an eye out," Carrie said. "Good. You know I love 'em all, but I just can't go there. LaCroix. Yuck. Nope. Nada. Never." "How do you think *I* feel," Carrie moaned, pondering what might lie ahead for her. She shook her head dejectedly. "The things we do for war." Susan sighed in sympathy. "Well I have a theory that might cheer you up. I've discussed part of it with Soulseeker; but you know she has a soft spot for the old geezer when he's nice -- which, if all of time were the universe then that one moment would amount to a grain of sand on Cherry Beach which in my mind pretty much makes it a nonentity -- so I didn't really go into detail." "Whatever," Carrie replied as she ambled over to the coffee table. She carefully set her alien down there before plopping herself comfortably on the couch. "Theory?" "It involves the legend. "You already know about all the pieces needing to be combined by a certain time or the ex-vampires will remain mortal." "Uh huh." Well, the way I figure it, all of these ex-vampires are now mortals and, although some of them may not have figured it out yet, we all know mortals neither have nor are masters. So if the thing is assembled and all those who are now mortal but who were vampires are turned back into vampires, that would make the person who assembles the staff the one who was actually responsible for turning them back into vampires. Right? "I suppose it makes sense," Carrie mumbled, wishing that sentence had been a whole lot shorter. Undaunted by her cohort's all-too-apparent lack of interest, Susan continued enthusiastically, "So, doesn't it then follow that whoever assembles the thing, if it's ever assembled, will become the legitimate master of all of these vampires?" Carrie suddenly sprang to her feet, "You mean," she gasped, "that simply by assembling all the elements and reverting all those mortals who became vampires who recently became mortals again back into vampires... Nick, for example, or Nat, or Screed for that matter, could become master over all of them -- including LaCroix!?" Susan smiled and nodded. "Exactly. Unless Nick himself is the only one who can put it together. And then he d be the one who could look LaCroix right in the eye and truly claim, "I made you! You are mine! blah blah blah. In fact... dare I say it, everyone who directly contributes in any way to those mortals regaining their vampirity could do the same thing." I helped make you! You are partly mine! Carrie shouted. She paused to let her mind digest this one in a billion happenstance as she sank back down into the couch. "So LaCroix has already lost a son and may yet regain a master... or... uh... masters." Susan leaned forward, "Uh huh. But the best part," she whispered, "between you and me, would be the eternal humiliation he would suffer knowing that mere mortals re-created him." ------- Susan B. freestyle@idirect.com From - Wed Aug 18 19:30:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HF4e-0007ff-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:24:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0190; Wed, 18 Aug 99 19:14:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5992; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:14:08 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 16:16:37 -0700 Reply-To: Liz the Lucky Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Liz the Lucky Subject: WAR: Nothers: Yet a Nother Great Idea ;-) (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 78e1ee39b96e6b03e7274ff3d5e0ae0a Title: Yet Another Great Idea ;-) Time: Wednesday, August 18th, about 5 pm Where: Le Chateau Des Autres Written by Liz the Lucky and Fleurette Liz used by permission of Fleurette and Fleurette used by permission of Liz. Yet Another Great Idea ;-) Fleurette knocked on Liz' door. "What?" Liz asked. "I've decided," Fleurette said... and she *really* did sound decided. Liz went to the door and opened it. "Decided what?" "We're going to attack the Dark Perks." "The Dark Perks?" Liz repeated, looking at Fleurette like she had suddenly sprouted a second head. "And why are we doing this?" "Because, dearest 1/4 of my brain, I'm sick and tired of seeing all of these Third season episodes and their Tracy-this, Tracy-that themes. Schanke never should have been replaced and I aim to do something about it!" "I am?" Liz squeaked. "Don't you think this is something the FoDs should be doing instead of us?" "Aren't *you* the FoD's list mommy, Liz?" "Well, er, yeah," the redhead admitted. "It was either me taking over from Kathy or the list going bye-bye." "That's no excuse! That blonde perky twit stole our Don's job! You should *want* to make her faction pay dearly for it!" At this point, Fleurette was so flustered that Liz figured she was insane. "Being pregnant's getting to you, isn't it?" she accused. "You sure you don't want some pickles and ice cream or something?" "Pickles! Ice cream!" snorted Fleurette, doing her best impression of NA's High Priestess when she got *real* mad. "If *you* won't help me, I could always do it myself." Unsaid was what might happen to Liz if she didn't help. "Calm down, calm down. I never said I wouldn't help," Liz assured her. "But I want danger pay." Slightly appeased, Fleurette calmed down. "What sort of danger pay?" she asked. "Make an offer." Fleurette thought about it for several minutes, leaving Liz to become anxious. "How would it be if I got Tony to give you a massage every day for the rest of the War?" she offered. "Sounds good," Liz agreed. "What exactly are we doing?" "Shhh..." Fleurette suddenly snapped. "What now?" "Not *here*! Go gather the troups and we'll meet in the ... you know.. *that* place we don't talk about... " She had that look on her face that said she thought the room could be bugged. "What place we won't talk about?" Liz asked, wondering briefly if Fleurette had flipped again, then deciding that as long as she was being paid it didn't matter. "The *War* room, you dip!" came Fleurette's response. "I didn't know we had a War room," Liz answered. "When did that happen?" "Harry kind of *blinked* it here when he restructured the offices. He thinks that's where he found the extra space, actually." "Oh. Where is it?" Now it was Fleurette's turn to stare at Liz as if she'd grown an extra head. "If I tell you that, it won't be a secret, now will it?" With that, she turned and breezed from the room. "Wonderful," Liz grumbled out loud. Then she also left the room, knocking on the door next to hers. "Kat, you busy?" THE END For now.... Hugs and Kisses, Liz the Lucky FoD Merc luckyliz@mindspring.com Nanette Nother http://www.mindspring.com/~luckyliz From - Wed Aug 18 19:30:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HF4k-0007g4-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:24:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1983; Wed, 18 Aug 99 19:22:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6616; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:22:51 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 18:24:08 -0500 Reply-To: Ann Bridges Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Ann Bridges Subject: War: Harem: So Much To Do! (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b1b7d8dd496a22ca62b42d0d638bb33c War: Harem: So Much To Do! (2/2) By: Amethyst Wife #2 & 2nd in command of the Harem Time: 2:30 PM Friday the 13th After: Harem:So Much To Do! (1/?) Before: Harem: It's a Battle to the Death! Note: See character disclaimers in part 1 of this same title. 2:30 PM Amethyst and Rick had just finished getting all the keys gathered and sorted. They realized that the keys were coded by floors, so they divided them out. "Now what, go room to room checking all the keys?" Amethyst asked. "Well . . .," Rick began, the lobby doors opened and in came 3 people. One very chatty young woman, and two handsome men. Amethyst couldn't help but think that whoever hired such hunky guys should get a bonus night with Nick! "Areweintherightplace, I mean this MUST the right place, it's the address we were given . . .," the words spewed so quickly from her lips it was . . . amazing. "Give her a chance to answer, Wendy!" said a guy who looked very much like MacGyver. "We were hired to work at Harem Headquarters?" "You're in the right place. Which of you is the cook?" Amethyst asked. "That would be me, I'm a really great cook, I can do anything, Chinese, Mexican, American, Italian ....," the words flowed from her lips. Amethyst was still amazed *And Dad used to call ME motor mouth!* "That's great," Amethyst interrupted, she really didn't want to hear every country in the world listed, "Kitchen is through the dining room. Go to the desk, take a right and through those doors is the dining area. You'll see the doors to the kitchen to the left." Wendy scurried off, still blabbering to herself as she disappeared into the dining room. "Okay, that means one of you is the fix-it guy and one is the bell hop, right?" "I hate to be called a bell hop, I just help move stuff, luggage, whatever!" the tall blonde hunk replied. "Whatever you like." Amethyst turned to the first guy, "So you're the fix it man?" Amethyst couldn't help asking, "Use a lot of duct tape?" "Actually yeah. It's great for lots of things, I never leave home without it." Amethyst smiled, *figures* "Okay, what are your names?" The fix-it-man replied, "Angus MacCaffery, just call me Mac." "I'm Robin Stone," the not a bell hop guy replied. "Ok, Robin, some of the wives have arrived they are up on the third floor, how about going up to see if they could use any help? Mac, can you see if you can find any more cleaning supplies? I used a roll of paper towels and water to clean my office." " Will do!" Mac said hurrying toward the kitchen. Amethyst was headed for her office, when Rick called out, "Ms. . . ?" "Call me Amethyst." "Ms. Amethyst ... Ms. Mesha says that her room is wrong?" "What does she mean wrong?" "Something about furniture?" "Great! Tell her,I'll talk to Randora about getting it fixed!" 8PM "Has anyone heard from Randora??" No one seemed to be listening to her. "EXCUSE ME!!!" The room came to a stand still. "Has ANYONE heard from Randora since this morning??" The room was silent, a cricket chirped in a corner. . . "Fine, I'll try her cell phone." Amethyst picked up the receiver and dialed Randora's cell number, "The cellular customer you are trying to reach," Amethyst slammed the phone down, "Crude!" "Amethyst?" Mac called as he came through the kitchen doors, "Bad news, there are some pipes that need replacing." "WHAT?!!?!?" "I bet if we check the ceiling we'll find some damage" "Get to fixing it, we have a party here in a few days!! "I'll get right on it . . . first thing in the morning. I have something to do tonight," Mac said as he left the HQ. Amethyst looked at her watch it was after 8:30. The dogs stood there staring at her with the *I'm HUNGRY* look. " Okay, guys, lets take the elevator up to our room." Amethyst punched the button for the third floor, nothing. Great. "Rick, before you leave will you write a note to Mac to check the elevator in the morning." "Yes, Ma'am." "Night!" she and the dogs took the stairs to their room. Amethyst fed the dogs, took them out for their last walk, and was about to go to bed, when she heard a noise downstairs. Grabbing Grey from his crate, she headed down the stairs. "Anyone home?" a voice called from the doorway, as Amethyst & Grey neared the bottom of the stairs. "Who's there?" "It's the night staff, the service was a bit late in telling us we were to report here!" Amethyst told Grey to stay. *No sense in scaring them yet!* " I'm John Day." " How cute! Sorry" "I get that a lot." "The maids should be here shortly." "Good. I think you should be able to figure everything out. Just tell the maids to start cleaning the kitchen and dining area's! Oh, the keys are all mixed up!" Amethyst yelled as she and Grey headed back to bed. Sat. the 14th 6:30 AM Amethyst, who never gets up very early (except for dog shows!), was wide awake. "Time to get downstairs and start cleaning!" Amethyst took the dogs out and got them settled in her office. "Morning, everyone!" Rick and the others had just arrived, the night shift was preparing to leave. "The kitchen and dining room is done," a young woman who's name tag read Cindy, said as she walked out the door. "Thanks!" KaliraRael came out of the ballroom, "Morning, Amethyst. Did you notice the molding on the doorway? It's kinda warped in the middle. I'm going to get a planer and get to work." "Okay. Rick, will you introduce KaliraRael to the others?" "Yes, Ma'am" "Please stop calling me Ma'am!" "Yes, Ma ... Yes." A little after 7 AM The day maids had arrived and the other wives had come down. They were all about to start cleaning. Amethyst took her cleaning stuff and headed for a particularly dirty corner. Just then the door opened and in came DragonLady and Randora. They froze in their tracks, staring at the chaos. *Fin* ---------------------------------------------------- Ann and the Crazy Crew Steele, Harlee and Cinder knightie@sat.net My ICQ# is 20298309 or, * Page me online through my Personal Communication Center: http://wwp.mirabilis.com/20298309 (go there and try it!) or, * Send me E-mail Express directly to my computer screen 20298309@pager.mirabilis.com ---------------------------------------------------- From - Wed Aug 18 19:53:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HFHm-0007lD-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:38:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2037; Wed, 18 Aug 99 19:32:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7510; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:32:21 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 18:33:46 -0500 Reply-To: Ann Bridges Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Ann Bridges Subject: War: Harem: Days of Dust, Dirt & Decor To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 92efe54daa2473637ccbbaf2e048f667 War: Harem: Days of Dust, Dirt & Decor By: Amethyst Date: Tuesday Aug. 17 Time: Afternoon After: Harem: It's a Battle to the Death! Before: NA/Harem: Cushioned for Impact Note: In the Post: 'NA/Harem: Cushioned for Impact' it was stated Amethyst was looking for pillows for Nick, that however is not the case. For the last 3 days the Harem spent their time preparing HQ for the party to come on the 19th. The Black, Silver & Gold marble floors of the lobby almost glowed. Amethyst was very pleased with everyone's work. They had all been working pretty hard, and most of them had headed out to get ice cream. Amethyst had decided to stay and play with the FK dogs. One of the nice things about being a wife, you get almost anything you want. She had been pleasantly surprised to discover a covered arena filled with dog Agility equipment. The dogs were even happier! When they came in, Amethyst decided to start to decorate her room and office. Amethyst went back to her office, only a desk, not even a chair! On her desk was the day's mail, she started to sort through it, when she came to a catalog from Office Depot , so she flipped through the pages until she found the furnishings she wanted. She called the number given, and in a short time had ordered almost everything she needed. The furniture was paid for from the Harem account. The things would be delivered tomorrow morning. Now for that special touch. She wanted pillows! But not just ANY pillows. She went to the front desk and asked for the phone book. A couple of the day maids walked through, arms filled with towels and sheets, they nodded to her. "Hi Rosie, Alexandra," she said. "Ms. Amethyst," the two responded. "Rick, I need the phone book," Amethyst said, shoving her auburn hair back out of her face. Rick looked up from the paper work he was doing and smiled. *Goodness, he's sexy when he does that!!* He handed her the book she requested, and she began thumbing through it before she reached her office. She went back to her office and leaned over her desk. Suddenly a yellow page ad caught her eye, 'Mohead's If you can imagine it, we have it!' Amethyst noted the address, and then dialed the number. "Mohead's, if you want it, we got it! How can I help you?" a voice, a little too perky for Amethyst's taste, asked. "Yes, I'm looking for black bolsters?" "Hold please!" Then the annoying music began, ten minutes later, "Mohead's If you can imagine it we have it!, How can I help you today?" "I already told another girl what I . . ." "Hold please." "What?!?!?" She had been screeching that a lot lately. ---------------------------------------------------- Ann and the Crazy Crew Steele, Harlee and Cinder knightie@sat.net My ICQ# is 20298309 or, * Page me online through my Personal Communication Center: http://wwp.mirabilis.com/20298309 (go there and try it!) or, * Send me E-mail Express directly to my computer screen 20298309@pager.mirabilis.com ---------------------------------------------------- From - Wed Aug 18 19:53:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HFV5-0000u2-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:52:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0370; Wed, 18 Aug 99 19:50:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8683; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:50:04 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 16:51:47 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: NA: Help Me, My General, You're My Only Hope!!! (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3e72846eeee4ec17ee595a720f8145cc Title: Help Me, My General, You're My Only Hope!!! Time: Early-late morning, Wed. (after "This is Some Rescue") Place: The Sacred NA Stables By Jennifer Lee and Cousin Tserisa * * * * * Tser was tired. She had never been tied dangling to a wall before, and she had no idea how exhausting and uncomfortable it was. Her arms ached and felt like they were disconnecting, her neck ached (she just couldn't get it to lay right without a huge cramp), and she felt all pulled out. She wondered if she'd soon become a superstring... there wasn't enough flesh to go around for much more stretching. Jennifer the emperor had finally stopped pacing back and forth on Incitatus (much to Coup's relief) and had fallen asleep on a blanket laid across the hay. She was snoring... Jennifer didn't used to snore... maybe the brick made her snore... Tser groaned. How much damage could one brick do? Smokey was asleep too, looking content. Tser grumbled. "Maybe I could untie you now and we could make a break for it," Luke whispered. "Say we get caught?" Tser asked. "I'm already scheduled to be skewered and hung up, I don't want to know what worse she can come up with." "Don't tell me you've given up hope?" "No... but I no longer trust your rescue expertise. If I'm going to get out of this, I'm going to have to get out of it by my own resources." However, there seemed very little possibility of her doing anything as a wall hanging. And her cell phone was crushed, NA was gone and Vaqs had control.... NA. They had given her that certificate for one Personal Tranquility Device!! It was in her pocket. "What would make me very very tranquil," Tser said quietly, hoping this worked, "would be LaCroix recieving a map to my present location." Two Fanfic Fairies appeared and hovered over the General's desk, neatly depositing a map on it's surface. They poofed away as a grumpy eagle snapped at them. Jennifer snorted in her sleep and rolled over, pulling the blanket with her. There was a loud, protesting squeak as she shifted her weight, and a large, furry brown body suddenly appeared by her head. The rat harrumphed, as ratsies sometimes do, and moved off to find a new bed. Unfortunately for some of our heros, that rat also caught the attnetion of Patoot, who crouched on Incitatus/Coup's stall door. The hyper, dog-like calico wagged her posterior in the air, then launched herself in the general direction of the rat, landing on Jen/Caligula's stomach in the process. The would-be-emperor sat up quickly, scowling. Toot, having missed her query completely, stared up at her mistress lovingly and said, "Brrr-mow!!" before running off to launch a sneak attack on her older, adopted sister, Guinivere. Jennifer/Caligula scowled some more until Luke approached her, a struggling rat dangling by its scruff from his teeth. "Youph raph, misphresh," the blond man said around the pelt. Jennifer/Caligula continued to scowl, then smiled. "Very good, Luke," she said as she got up. "Throw it out and continue your duties." "Yesh, misphresh," Luke said, and he crawled off to dump the rat in the yard. "Now then, attend me, servants!" Jen/Caligula commanded."Attend me!!!" she repeated louder when no one scrambled to her side. Then, it dawned on her that she had only two servants, one of which was chasing rats with his hands tied behind his back, and the other of which was hanging from a beam. She swore softly, then stormed to where Cousinly Leader Tser was tied. "You will be spared, this time, girl," she declared. "But do not try anything so foolish again, or I *will* send you to Pluto." With that, Jennifer released Tser and she fell to her knees with an undignified whump. "Now, come with me. Luke!!!" The ex-vampire crawled to his mistress, still spitting rat hairfrom his mouth. "Yes, mistress?" he asked, doing his best not to choke on the remaining hair. "Stand up, fool," the deranged one commanded. Luke struggled to his feet, and was grabbed and spun around by the traumatized addict. Jennifer/Caligula untied his bonds, and ordered. "You will tend to Incitatus and his new companion Fumosus." She turned to regard Tser with contempt. "And you, girl, will attend me. Now." Tser was fuming inside, but she reminded herself that if all went well, Nunkies would know where she was and send a team for her. With that in mind, she bowed to the Imperial Addict, and set about her so-called duties. ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Wed Aug 18 20:44:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HGC1-0002b1-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 20:36:34 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4406; Wed, 18 Aug 99 20:34:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2338; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 20:34:17 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 10:36:02 +1000 Reply-To: TALIESYN@C031.AONE.NET.AU Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Alexander J. Braun" Organization: access one Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: Trick or Treat To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3e6168d51da45062f70735285bd97516 Title: Trick or Treat Place: The Raven then Chateau des Autres Time: Monday just before eight pm At the Raven Alex was waiting at the bar waiting for the girls to get ready he was drinking a glass of wine when the girls came down they all looked outstanding a credit to the faction, "Well the limo is waiting for us let's go" Alex led the way out side to the limo the girls went first in then Alex. "Chateau des Autres" Alex advised the driver the driver nodded and drove off. The Ravenettes arrived for the tour and show Kimberly, Lorna, Chandra Caroline and Alex with Claudia walked in to the impressive Chateau, they were all shown around the interior looked at the sumptuous furnishings and the architectural merits of the place. The girl's had a couple of scares when a few rats kept apearing during the tour of the Chateau. "Seems to be a lot of rats around" Claudia remarked nervously. "Thank god there seems to be only a few at the club at the moment" Kimberly replied. The six ravenettes were shown to the ballroom and sat down to see the magic show, Alex got out a packet of nuts and shared them around. Watching the first part of the magic show the magician showed some promise pulling out rabbits and doves. After the intermission there was a chance for some audience participation and four lucky people got up to be part of the show "Depends on what lucky means" whispered Alex, Caroline elbowed him in the ribs. They watched Libby got spun around in the air then Don got sawed in half then Alicia was made to disappear then Patt was converted in to a sheet of paper torn up and was converted back. When the magician tried to bring back Alicia he got some one else. "If you ask me Alicia had the right idea not to come back" whispered Alex again he got a jab in the ribs for his trouble. After the festivities finished the Ravenettes left the Chateau and was driven back to the Raven in the Limo. When they arrived they all talked about the what they saw to Janette who was waiting at the Bar drinking a red wine. They all drank wine and spirits except Claudia who stayed with non achoholic drink till the small wee hours of the night, talking about the night and what been happening since the start of the war and what pranks that could be done, at that remark Alex looked up and started to think about the preparations he started before the war and a small smile crept about his mouth. They all started to leave and wonder back to there rooms to sleep off the night drinking. -- Alex Braun - Taliesyn@c031.aone.net.au - ICQ # 12610993 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe". Marcus, B5 From - Wed Aug 18 21:19:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HGPu-0002tx-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 20:50:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2423; Wed, 18 Aug 99 20:48:49 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3344; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 20:48:50 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 20:50:36 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: UF: What's the Meta? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9ba4a386cdf74febdb9a654528f64e26 War: UF: What's the Meta? (?/?) By: Julia Kocich, Lauren Hawes and Les GS Setting: a white room with many doors but ... no exit. The participants, garbed all in white, sit on high white director's chairs that say "Stolen from Fat Pete's." Time: Completely Irrelevant, Just Like This Post LES: (Peering suspiciously at the floor.) No checkerboard..? LAUREN: No. Or demitasse cups. (beat) Why are we doing this? LES: Because I owe Julia a meta-fiction post from last War. (beat) To be precise, I owe her a *title* on a meta-fiction War post. I'm becoming notorious for bobbling post titles. LAUREN: So... why not just give her a title? LES: (Looking pensive) Drop a post consisting only of a title? How ... minimalist. And I believe the play in question closed last year. You may have heard of it? "Shopping and .....ing." (beat) What would you call that? War a la Dada? LAUREN: No, I think you're shading more into Surrealism there. A bit more Breton than Duchamp ... (hopefully) Did you want me to continue? LES: No. (Beat) Where's Julia? I'm tired of waiting. I'm leaving if we're doing a reprise of Beckett. LAUREN: (Eyes glinting.) I love that joke. LES: Don't. JULIA: (appears and takes her seat) Don't what? LAUREN: (Trying not to fall off her chair) Hey, there he is! Hey, Godot! Over here! JULIA: Oooh! I've got a Beckett joke. He wrote "That's what hell is like, small chat to the bubbling of Lethe about the good old days when we wished we were dead." To which a friend of Les's added: "Don't drink the water." LES: (Beaming) I now feel right at home. JULIA: Well I, for a change, need to bitch. (Silence.) JULIA: (continues) Why do some folks insist on labeling the UF's take on Nick and Lacroix? We're ... well, I like to think that we're more than just a slash faction. Not ... that there's anything wrong with that. LAUREN: I like to think we're a slash faction. JULIA: (vehemently) No, listen! We live in a society that is simultaneously puritan and prurient, that can't seem to distinguish shades of gray in behavior and in feeling. I love the idea of Nick and Lacroix "together," but when I think of them, I also see their other significant relationships. Shoot, I can even see them both agreeing with the sentiment behind Sonnet 129. (She recites from memory:) The expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action; and till action, lust Is perjured, murd'rous, bloody, full of blame, Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust; Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight; Past reason hunted; and no sooner had, Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait, On purpose laid to make the taker mad: Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe; Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream. All this the world well knows; yet none knows well To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. LES: So I get to be in the middle again..? I think it's fair to call us a slash faction, though it falls short of serving as a complete description. The Guys' Relationship is too complex to be predicated on simple, physical lust. But how 'bout that force the Greeks -- JULIA: (Muttering) I *knew* you'd bring in the Greeks. LES: (Glaring at her, speaking louder) That force the Greeks called Eros? Eros, in Greek cosmological speculation, was seen as the primal force of attraction, almost like gravity. Their attraction for one another, to me, seems primal, non-reasoned, something elemental and having very little to do with their being "in love" or "in lust" with one another. (Les grins) Or even liking one another, despite what Lacroix says. JULIA: (Peering suspiciously at Les) You're not drunk, are you? LAUREN: How come it's always Shakespeare with you two? Can't we do Beckett? Or Eliot? JULIA: Um ... well, we're actually *doing* Beckett, sorta, kinda. The Sonnets are in honor of Bons' PTD to Les. (smiles) And Eliot ... ah, Eliot -- he's yet another example of the selfcontradictory nature of the most interesting people. LES: (grunts, teeth clamped on her unlit cigar) LAUREN: I mean, what is that? "Is lust in action; and till action..." The entire sonnet is predicated on movement ... but nothing happens. Are you saying that Lacroix and Nicholas are ... unable to act? JULIA: I don't see it as being unable to act, but ... as the worldweary acknowledgment of the sameness of naked desire *qua* desire. And (smiles) the Sonnet probably conveys some fans' opinions about the UF. (beat) I just wish they'd stop throwing around current labels of "gay" and "straight" in a context of centuries past in which these 20th century neologisms didn't exist. LAUREN: Hey! That's not fair! JULIA: What? LAUREN: You said something I can't disagree with! JULIA: Oh, OK ... I'll try not to do that again. (Takes out a white wiffle bat and proceeds to pound her head.) (Silence) JULIA: The Sonnet sounds to me like a man ensnared in lust, talking about it to another man, who he *knows* will understand, being as trapped as he is. LES: (Takes cigar out from between teeth, squints at the unlit end.) Actually, Shakespeare's kinda nifty, 'cuz he speaks to everyone, even though he was addressing specific people. A woman, possibly, in this sonnet, and a man in "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Though the lust one is a great Nick/Lacroix image. JULIA: Everything's a great Nick/Lacroix image for you. LES: Obsession's like that. LAUREN: (Pulling out her own book.) This is so much better. Clear, no semicolons. ...And what you thought you came for is only a shell, a husk of meaning from which the purpose breaks only when it is fulfilled if at all. Either you had no purpose or the purpose is beyond the end you figured. LES: (mutters, bewildered) What's wrong with semicolons...? JULIA: (like a dog digging for a favorite bone, rifles through the white-spined books in the white bookcase that has only recently appeared) Oh, Lauren: but would Eliot, of all poets, consider "purpose" as something *merely* emotional or ... physical? But there are lines in Eliot that resonate with FK. Doesn't this sound like a poetic Lacroix?-- And so each venture Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate With shabby equipment always deteriorating In the general mess of imprecision of feeling, Undisciplined squads of emotion. JULIA: Both Eliot and Lacroix are very very suspicious of undisciplined squads of emotion. While Nick specializes in them. LES: (snore) JULIA: (acidly) Are we boring you, Les? LES: (Opening one eye to peer at her) "Love a la Plato with a tender young potato" is more my intellectual speed. There, that's the obligatory Wilde reference. (Silence) LES: (Straightening in seat) Isn't this enough uffish propaganda yet? JULIA: (Brow furrowing thoughtfully) What's the line limit on War posts? LES: (Shrugging) I dunno. I asked but got no answer. Helloooo??? Hellooo? Talk about Godot .... (beat) 300 or 500. Take your pick. Why? JULIA: Are we getting close to the limit? LES: (Counting...) Nah. We can drivel on for another 120 or 320 lines, depending. JULIA: (Grinning wickedly) Gooood... (merciful fadeout) From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HHEr-000788-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 21:43:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4766; Wed, 18 Aug 99 21:41:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8056; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 21:41:29 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 21:44:16 -0400 Reply-To: Soulseeker Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Soulseeker Subject: War: N&NPack: Do you hear that? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4454a5eaba06a65c8ecc2d6a7c194e7f War: N&NPack: Do you hear that? by Soulseeker and the N&NPack Wednesday, Aug 18/99 very early morning N&NPack HQ Before: A Little Romp for Sydney (aka Sydney's Vacation) 01/03 "I must be hearing things," Wendy grumbled to herself. "Meow." Wendy shook her head and continued wandering through the theatre. A few moments later she was joined by Cheryl. "Meow." "Did you hear that that?" asked Wendy as she looked around. "What?" "Meeoow." "That?!" demanded Wendy. Shaking her head Cheryl replied, "Didn't hear a thing." "I must be losing my mind," a dejected Wendy sighed. "What did you hear?" "Cats." "Huh?" "Cats. I heard cats meowing." "Meoowwwwww." "You didn't hear that either did you?" Wendy asked she walked away in search of the mysterious sound. Cheryl stood in the hall watching a retreating Wendy when suddenly there was a loud knock on the main door. Startled, she jumped and ran for the now converted ticket booth. A mysterious noise was coming from just beyond the door. She hit the silent alarm and the only thing she could see as a weapon, the famous alien in a *dome*. Cautiously she made her way to the door. Before Cheryl could open it the door Kevin and Sherry were at her side, armed with a paint ball gun and a what looked rather like a large sweet potato. After what seemed like ages the locks on the door were undone and Kevin pulled it open, his paint ball gun at the ready. A sudden flurry of movement caught him off guard. "Cats!" Sherry ducked behind Kevin. "Wendy was right, she did hear cats," marveled Cheryl. Within minutes the place the cats had rushed into the theatre and began to makes themselves at home. "Isn't that Sydney?" Kevin asked as he watched one of the cats walk back out the door and start walking down the sidewalk. SOULSEEKER soulseeker@sprint.ca * soulseeker1@acmecity.com N&NPack Faction Leader-*-Lonely Hearts Co Faction Leader From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HHQ1-0005Zh-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 21:55:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4804; Wed, 18 Aug 99 21:52:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8790; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 21:52:59 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 21:36:26 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Just a 'Nother long day 02/03 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a6f113026985831467ac0dd90b501e74 NA: Just a 'Nother long day 02/03 by Patt Elmore When: Tuesday, after "Cushioned for Impact," Where: Everywhere but the Shrine Trine uses Patt, with McLisa's permission And, this is now a three part story--blame the List Mommy ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "My truck!" Patt continued to stand on the stairs of CERK, watching where the maroon Chevrolet pickup had disappeared around a corner. Then, as if in a daze, Patt headed after it. On the way, she grabbed up the fallen peach pillow and continued to run. At the corner, she turned, only to find another ejected cushion, this time one of the black ones. "I'm amazed she didn't come back to pick up Nick's pillow," Patt puffed aloud as she ran. "Must be a pretty important reason that she took off like she did, leaving a trail. . ." Patt began to slow her pace. She stared further ahead and, sure enough, at appropriate intervals, peach and ebony cushions dotted the streets of Toronto, indicating the path that the purloined pickup had taken. "Got her," Patt declared. She looked around quickly. "Now, just need transportation to go hunt her down." Patt began jogging back to CERK, intent on *borrowing* a Cousinly car. Hunting through the parking lot, Patt noted that most of the vehicles looked well-secured, complete with those annoying alarms which, when set off, people generally ignore anyway. One very nice looking red Saturn caught the mature addict's eye, especially as a set of keys dangled in its ignition. And, as Patt had been raised in Tennessee herself, it seemed an appropriate set of wheels to procure. The sedan, on the other hand, had other thoughts. As Patt's hand approached her handle, Trine growled. Patt jumped back immediately. "Nice use of LaCroix sound wav's," the Third Cousin complimented. The car was not impressed. In a decidedly Southern accent, it advised the addict, "Move away from the vehicle and put your hand's up." "You're kidding?" Patt moved around to the front of the Saturn, so that her NA T-shirt was more visible to the headlights. "Don't you want to help a fellow Cousin in distress?" "Attempted Grand Theft Auto is a chargeable offense," Trine responded. "Move away now, or I shall alert the authorities . . . and squirt you with window washer fluid." "And then you'll have to use the yellow pages for a refill," Patt replied. "Listen, this is War. Vehicles are subject to being commandeered in moments of civil unrest. If not for the cause, how about one Southern lady to another?" The rim above Trine's headlight twitched. "Now who's kidding who, Suga? No one in their right frame is going to mistake *you* for a lady." "How about for a chance to make McLisa laugh?" "That's the first intelligent suggestion to come out of your human mouth," Trine purred, starting up her engine. "Get in and let's tear Toronto up." "If not for McLisa, how about for Tser? Won't you do it for the Cousinly leader type? Save the back of my alternate transportation?" "Quit blubbering, twit, and get in." Trine tried to keep her exasperated voice within code. "Time is a wastin and there's road to be tastin." Patt slipped into the driver's spot and tried to grab the wheel. It twisted in her hands, causing a rather nasty friction burn. "No one touches the leather unless they plan to buy me," Trine said tartly. "This gal don't do test drives." "Gotcha," Patt said dubiously. "Do you mind accepting some verbal instructions." "That's why you're here, dearie. Give me the itinerary and let's tank this adventure. You know that life is a gas, don't ya?" "Oh, my!" Feeling totally out of story control now, Patt sat back and *tried* to guide the Saturn into following the pillow trail. "Oh bosh on those *ugly* adornments," Trine drawled as she raced past a corner which should have been taken. "I know a short cut." "To where?" Patt cried. "To where the real action is," the car shuddered in delight, making Patt wonder if she had transmission problems. "Ever had a hot wax?" "No," Patt admitted. "But I have friends who thrive on them . . ." One full-service car wash later, Trine was playing *catch me* with the meter maid, parking in unauthorized places, only to dart out and haul tail light as the maid approached. "This is a lot of fun," Patt concurred, "but I really need to go find my truck." "Truck?" Trine's engine seemed to stall just abit. "You normally drive a TRUCK?" "Errrr, yes," Patt said. "Is that a problem?" "Only if you take me for a rube," Trine snapped, coming to a screeching stop. "I can't believe I have a truck-driver handling *my* chassis. Get out immediately." "I am not touching your *anything,*" Patt cried. "And, you can't strand me at . . . at . . . where the heck are we?" "About ten blocks from CERK, the way the Dolt flies," Trine replied, her voice harsh. "Dolt?" A sudden rumbling, grumbling and flash of blue smoke later, the Gigantic Kiwi was hovering before the addict and auto. "Now you've done it, twit." Trine began honking and flashing lights at the creature. "Buckle up and I'll see what I can do to get us out of this. What I won't do for plot advancement," the Saturn sighed. With a quick reversal and a mighty roar, Trine took off, heading straight for a white picket fence. Patt screeched, covered her eyes and held on to arm rests. Trine crashed through the fence, and ground her way across the manicured lawn of a local kiddie park. Past the slides and swings they flew, the green demon on their bumper. "That's a ditch!!" Patt cried, just opening her eyes enough to check progress. "It looks deep!!" "Going to second gear!" Trine down-geared happily, and, in a most impressive stunt car moment, jumped across the creek quite gracefully. Patt turned around, staring out the back window. "I can't believe you leaped the *whole brook.*" Trine came to a quick halt. "That does it, woman. You can use me, but you don't have permission to abuse the garage mate. Off the seat--now." "But . . ." "You're two blocks from CERK. Go down the street, turn left and look for the blinking call letters!" "But . . ." "OUT before I call Triple A!" "Oh, all right." Patt was tired of arguing, so she climbed out of the vehicle. Besides, Trine had turned off the air-conditioning and the Third Cousin was starting to swelter. "I'll find something else to actually get me to where I need to go to find my truck. And you - - go get a flat or something." Patt took off down the block, soon arriving back at CERK. She headed around the radio station building, careful to avoid the parking lot, hoping another mode of transport would prove accessible. As she ran past the Cousinly Stables, a loud braying beckoned for her attention. "Can't stop to do the carrot thing right now, Lava," Patt answered as she dashed by. "Gotta go ride to the resc . . ." Patt stopped. She turned and looked at the burro. Lavalianna returned the addict's look, her soft eyes gentle. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 02/03 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HHf9-0006F7-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:10:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1098; Wed, 18 Aug 99 22:08:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9911; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:08:36 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 21:54:51 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Just a 'Nother long day 03/03 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 327ea0310b05331e9e7290ec93018731 NA: Just a 'Nother long day 03/03 by Patt Elmore When: Tuesday, after "Cushioned for Impact," Where: Everywhere but the Shrine Cousinly Stables visited with permission Lavalianna used with permission of Cousin Tser ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In two swishes of a donkey's tail, Patt had Lava bridled and out of the stall. The Third Cousin mounted the burro and leaned forward, whispering in her large ear. "Thanks, girl. All the carrots you can eat, as soon as we find my truck." The burro needed no further encouragement. With a bawl of determination, Lava took off, almost unseating the unprepared addict. Soon, though, both achieved the same rhythm and the chase was on in earnest. The pillow trail was still there, a winding course heading out of the heart of downtown Toronto and into a more residential area. Patt waved at a couple of children on roller blades as she passed; the adolescents stopped and stared wide-mouthed at the passing duo. The Third Cousin felt a twinge of fear when she passed a mounted policeman, but he simply acknowledged the addict with a curt nod, as if a woman on a donkey was a usual occurrence in suburbs of Canada. A familiar mini-van raced by, almost hitting the mature addict and mule-mommy. Patt noted Texas plates and cried out "Come back here you truck rustler!!" An increase in street activity indicated to the Third Cousin that she was now entering commercial zoning again. Patt and Lava rounded a corner, sensing they were near their destination. The mature addict pulled the burro up short, staring before her. The pillow trail was gone. "Shoot," Patt said, looking around for any sign of van, truck or stray cushion. There were none. Patt rode Lava around in the area awhile longer, hoping to find some sign of Amethyst, or the truck, or something, but to no end. It was getting late and Patt had to make the painful decision to admit that she needed help. And, besides, she was getting hungry. "My wallet is in my bag in the truck," Patt groaned. Lava flicked her ears, then nickered. "Yep. That means we have to go back to the Shrine if we want any supper." It seemed to take a much longer time getting back to downtown Toronto than it had getting out of it. By the time that Patt reached the vicinity of the Shrine, she was starving. "We'll just mosey on back to the Sacred Stables and I'll borrow some of Coup's oats, okay?" Patt encouraged the little burro into the alley. "Jennifer won't mind, unless she's still Caligula, and if she is, she'll probably order me beheaded." Patt reached out and patted the burro's right shoulder. "Small price to pay for real friendship." Patt saw something which caused her to stop in her tracks. There, parked in the alley near the Sacred Stables, in a slackerly neat row, were several sleek, black Triumph motorcycles. "Vaqueras!" Patt whispered. She pulled on Lava's reins, turning the burro in a half-circle. A quick bit of knee pressure and the pair were out of the alley again. Across the street and well hidden from probing eyes, Patt watched for almost an hour as Vaqs came and went as if they resided in the NA Shrine. "We must have been raided," Patt commented aloud. Lava twitched her ears. "I was expecting it from the Dark Perks, but not the Vaqs." The burro nudged Patt's trouser pocket, snorting softly. "Yea, yea, girl, I know. I'm hungry myself. But, I have no cash and credit only good at the Jeweled Peach. But then again," Patt said, scratching the space between the burro's ears, "NA troubles are no reason for you to go hungry. I'll take you back to the Cousinly stables and take care of you proper." On the long ride to CERK, Patt and Lava passed through an alley behind a small grocery store. As they did, one of the proprietors came out the back door, lugging a large box of slightly wilted produce. "You want some carrots for your donkey?" the man called out. "They're going in the dumpster anyway." Patt accepted a bunch and, after giving one to Lava, struck the rest in her pocket. Out of sight of the produce man, Patt popped one of the less-than-crisp veggies into her mouth. They finally arrived at CERK, and Patt saw to Lava's needs. Smokey, Tser's horse, was not in the stable, so Patt determined that the Cousinly leader was out riding. Patt filled Lava's water bucket, gave her some fresh hay and patted the burro goodnight. As she stepped into the now darkened streets of Toronto, Patt felt a sudden chill. Perhaps it would be better to wait until morning to be out and about. Maybe someone would miss her and send out a search party. "They always say that when you get separated from your party, you should stay put until they come back and find you," Patt said, re-entering the Cousinly Stables. Lava regarded the addict with interest as Patt opened the door and came into the stall. "Care if I bunk with you tonight?" The burro brayed softly. A short time later, an exhausted Third Cousin fell asleep against the donkey, a half-eaten carrot dangling from her lips. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The end 03/03 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HHqP-0006f0-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:22:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2925; Wed, 18 Aug 99 22:20:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0480; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:20:16 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:22:09 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA/CGW: Look What I Found in the Streets To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e3642fca8c81c2e696f9e291a90fbcee WAR: NA/CGW: Look What I Found in the Streets A kilted man stumbled into the Fiendish Glow. Casting his glance around, he caught sight of the buxom nearly-redhead he was looking for. "Ach, *there* ye are, lass!" he murmured, placing his arm around her possessively and nearly knocking her off her feet. "Chris?" Heather looked at the dirty, sweaty newcomer. His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils didn't seem to be able to follow her as she talked. "Chris, m'love, wha' happened tae ye?" "Uggh. Hurt me head again a' the games. Durn sheaf caught me head on... an' then I got trampled on during the tug-o'-war. Good thing it warn't the caber," he said, managing a weak smile. Being hit with a 17kg sheaf of "hay" was bad enough -- but a 55kg "telephone pole" was another class of injury entirely. "Went tae Larry's fer 'is all-night ceilidh -- watched alla Scottisth movizz 'e 'ad, nearly twinny o'em... watch Brave'ar' ree, four times... Verre tired," he said, ensconcing his head in his fiancee's bosom. "Ye small nice... " He turned his head to breathe. "Hoozat?" he asked, spying the half-dressed redhead following the other togaed Glow Worm. "That's Roy, he's Sukh's entertainment." MacCousin left out the part about the great neck massages and foot rubs Roy gave. "And this is Brenda, Pen and Sukh. Everyone, this is Chris my fiance. Sorry for his appearance. He's been through a lot this weekend. Ya'll have been to the Highland Games before. He does the demonstrations of the games that Celtic Warriors used to do." Chris returned to something of a standing position and instead of shaking the proffered hands, kissed the backs of them in courtly fashion. Never too tired to lather on the charm, that one was.... Brenda reached behind the bar and fiddled with something in the refrigerator. "Here, drink this," she said, placing a pewter tankard in the would-be Scotsman's hand and signalling the man's wife-to-be. "Whazzinit?" he asked. "Drink it," Brenda and Heather said together. He lifted the vessel and peered cautiously at its contents. "'syellow," he murmured. "Drink it. All of it." Outnumbered four to one, he drained the tankard and banged it down on the nearest flat surface. "Wha' wa' that?" "Dragon's P***," Brenda said. The others looked at her askance. "Lemonade and salt. I found out about it on one of the Rennie newsgroups... it's supposed to be better than that bottled sports-drink stuff if you're dehydrated. "Dragon's P***?" Chris asked. Heather rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. "C'mon, let's take a walk," she said, half-dragging her fiance towards the upstairs living quarters. "You need to get yourself cleaned up, and then we have some things to discuss." ******* "So there are really vampires in Toronto?" It had taken five minutes of preamble and ten minutes of convincing for Heather to get Chris to believe it. At first he thought it was an odd sort of joke. He was used to her usual ones. "Well not right now," Heather repeated. "They all became mortal, but it's a temporary kind of thing. They could turn back any minute." "So how do ye' know about this?" "Uhm, well," Heather turned away for a moment. "I haven't been completely honest with you." She sighed. "I'm what is called a Nunkies Addict. We kind of have this drooling thing for one of them." "That's your secret society?" Chris looked surprised. "I thought it would be something more impressive?" "I can't help it if I'm addicted to LaCroix." "LaCroix? Well I suppose it's better than someone from *God and Faer forbid*, England. How do you know your safe with him." "Well I've been an addict for over three years, and he's not really French, he's a Roman." "Three years? We've dated for six and you've never even mentioned this before. And he's Roman? That's even worse. You know what they did to the Celts and Picts. What if he won't let you go?" MacHeather rolled her eyes. "Nunkies will let me go. Chris, you aren't making sense. You need to get some sleep." "Whaddaya mean, *I'm* not makin' sense. *You're* the one who, just before our wedding, goes and tells me that you have a 'thing' for another man -- an' that he's usually a vampire -- but he'll let you go and marry someone else, namely me... If anyone's not makin' any sense around here, it's you." An awkward silence fell over the couple as they tried to regain a semblance of civility. "You *have* told him about our wedding?" Chris asked, finally. Heather nodded. "And???" MacCousin rolled her eyes again. "He didn't say much about it. Just wanted to make sure it was what I wanted." "What if he demands something in return for you -- like a dowry or something." *Which'd make _two_ of 'em,* Chris thought, remembering Heather's father's demands. You're probably a great addict, right?" "Uh, well actually Nunkies isn't too thrilled with me at the moment." "Why?" "Because Sukh and I, well we've become renegade addicts, but we can discuss that little crossover later." "But you're his addict, right?" "Right." "So why would he let you go?" Heather grinned. "Because it's what I want. Let's get you showered and into a spare bed so you can get some sleep, and hopefully make more sense later. ****** Chris fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow. He did not sleep easy though. His dreams were full of vampires. Even worse were their vicious demands. He woke up shivering. "Prima nocte," he murmured to himself. ******* Prima nocte: is Latin for First Night. In the old days it may have been called that or anything else, but it still meant the same thing. A Lord (or any higher-up) would demand that he be given the first night with the new bride. Okay I know lots of people are going to say, Heather, Prima nocte was a victorian invention. Well, maybe the name was, but the act *did* happen, a lot more than people like to think. Also bear in mind, Chris hasn't had a whole lot of sleep, so like a lot of folks, his imagination is running away with him. MacCousin Heather Keeper of the MacNunkies Tapestry http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/ ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HHtD-0006uh-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:25:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4925; Wed, 18 Aug 99 22:23:10 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0603; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:23:10 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:14:01 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--The Fix To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2fed577c64962f8c86f4450fbf8d1884 18 Aug 1999 The Jeweled Peach Toronto, ON 6:00 p.m. The Fix By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia with lots of help from all of the Vaqs As they sat around the fire, Javier and his minions of mischief thought about the renovations that had been done to the former Nunkies Addicts' Headquarters. The Vaqs had been busy. Their plans for the renovation of the Scarred Shrine had included converting the Jeweled Peach into something more to their taste. Thus, they chose a spanish theme, and settled on the name 'Spanish Lily's' in honor of their scruffy (yet lovable) leader and his favorite flower. The walls were painted with murals depicting the various stages of sunrise to sunset on top of a lovely apricot color. Antique candle sconces graced the walls, and calla lilies decorated each table. The visit to the ex-staff of the late Mordedura's had gone well. No one was injured, and all employees agreed to staff the newest eatery in town. In addition to Spanish Lily's, the Vaqs had gutted a portion near the back of the restaurant and retooled it into a bar. To be more specific, it was a biker bar. There was an old jukebox in one corner, a long bar with stools, several tables, and a pool table,all with that unique 'used' look that suited the Vaqs so well. After putting much thought into it, they christened the bar 'The Pitted Peach' in loving memory of the former occupants. The doors leading from the restaurant to the bar were soundproofed, as the Vaqs had an idea that it might get a bit loud inside. Echo, fresh from her success with the restaraunt project, had further examined the possibilities of the rest of the complex. Her first order of business had been the pool, which the former tenants had used to end 'Nunklear Meltdowns.' The pool now sported a lovely painting of Javier, Triumph, leather and all, on its floor. Even now, the Vaqueros and Vaqueras laughed at how that particular painting had come about. It had started with a simple game of craps. ****************************flashback********************************* "Guys, this whole HQ switching thing has gotten to me. I need a break from the renovation work. What can we do that's fun," the once again raven-haired ex-vamp asked. "Well," Tammy said, "we could play a game. I brought some dice. How about we shoot?" Cliff immediately piped in, "I brought some too. Sounds great! Ummm, but what do you guys say we make it interesting?" Echo shot him a quizzical look. "How so?" An sly grin spread across Cliff's face. "We play *strip* craps." Laughter ensued, and soon Tammy, Cliff, Javier, and Echo were lined up preparing to roll. Felicia and Teresita, the Vaquera Wonder Twins, lurked in the corner. "Never been much for gamblin'," said the Vaq Adj, "no luck, you understand." Teresita nodded. "I'm with you, Twink. Let's sit this one out and just watch. . .from a distance." The other Vaqs gathered around the contestants. Cliff grabbed for the dice, but Vachon stopped him. "Umm, shouldn't we let the ladies roll first," he asked. Cliff made a face. "Oh, right. I knew that." He carefully laid the dice back down. Echo turned to Tammy and said, "Go ahead." Tammy took up the dice and shook them vigorously. "Come on, baby, be there," she cried as she threw. "Snake eyes!" Cliff and Echo were equally lucky, but Vachon was not. In fact, he was downright *un*lucky. Within thirty minutes, he was down to his skivvies. Teresita nudged Felicia and whispered, "Five bucks says that those dice are rigged." "Gotta be, Twinner," she agreed. Vachon moved off to fetch another pair of jeans and a shirt. Cliff whipped out his sketch pad and began to draw. Melissa asked, "Hey, Cliff, whatcha doin'?" "I'm sketching a design for the bottom of the pool. We can't leave it the way it is." A chourus of agreement followed. Echo, the OID, wandered up behind him. "Oh! Cliff, it's a PG-13 war! You can't paint Javier that way!" Cliff frowned and grumbled something about censorship. Echo retrieved her sketch pad and began to draw. She sketched Vachon's head and turned it for all of the group to see. "That's good Echo." Cliff lifted his eyebrows and turned to a new sheet of paper. He quickly drew a picture of Vachon's head and showed everyone. "Hmmm, that's good, too." Echo huffed and started working her pencil over the paper with a practiced ease. She turned her pad and displayed her representation of Vachon's torso, complete with leather jacket. Tammy grabbed her guitar and plucked out the first few notes of 'Dueling Banjos'. "Oh, yeah?" Cliff grabbed for his pencil and drew in Vachon's torso, no leather, no shirt. "Well, that's nice too, but. . ." 'Fa da ding ding ding ding ding ding ding. . .' came the answering notes from Tammy's guitar. "Yeah!" Echo sketched in the rest of her picture. She turned the pad, which now displayed Javier in his leather and on his Triumph. 'Fa da ding ding ding ding ding ding ding. . .' Cliff finished his sketch in record time and started to turn it. "Wait!!! Whatever you've got there, if he ain't wearing clothes, you ain't painting it!" 'Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding Cliff rolled his eyes and crumpled the paper. Clearly defeated, he fetched his paints and moved into the pool room. The Vaqueras followed. "What kind of paints ya got, Cliff," Echo asked. "I'm painting a pool. Water colors, of course! There's just one problem, though." "What's that?" "How am I gonna hold my breath for that long?" Various groans reverberated off of the walls. After draining the pool, he set to work. Cliff reached his brush into a nearby eddy to pick up a touch of Aqua and applied it to the portrait. He then dabbed into a swirl for a hue of Turquoise. A wave of Azure, a stream of Lapis Lazuli, a surge of Indigo, and a gush of Sapphire whirlpools around him in a Muse inspired mural of midnight. The portrait was done in record time. Javier was magnificent, clothes and all. ************************end flashback********************************* The Vaq troops were enjoying their fire, but it was getting low. "Hey, we need something else to burn. Anyone have any ideas," Tracy Sue asked. Melissa jumped up. "I know! I know!" She rushed over to a trashcan and wheeled it over. "Look! SNIXCO catalogues! I found a bunch in that room I re-decorated. Think that they'll do?" Tabitha grinned. "Oh, yeah! I'd say that they were perfect." The Vaqs put the rubbish to good use. The fire was perfect for sing-alongs and s'more-making. "Y'all know what that means," began the Vaq Adj. "Cumbayah, my Lord, Cumbayah. . . ." It was a good night. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2, Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!) Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HI5s-0007Qu-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:38:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2985; Wed, 18 Aug 99 22:33:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1351; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:33:57 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 19:27:55 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--The Maverick To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 726eb77084b8ce36e025247952d4f2bc 18 Aug 1999 Sacred Shrine to the Vaqs Toronto, ON 9:30 p.m. The Maverick, or, The Little Vaq Who Lost His Way By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia Scott pulled up to the curb said a silent prayer of thanks that his pitiful car had made the long trip from Louisiana to Toronto. He looked intently at the building before him. "Yuk," he thought. "I can't believe I'm actually goin' in there." He approached the building cautiously. He heard noise. Loud noise. And laughter. He knocked on the door and waited. A trio open it. He recognized two of them. Felicia, his real life neighbor, stood next to Javier Vachon. He had encountered the former Conquistadore in fiction before, and despite having been shown up at trivia regarding a major discount store, he liked Vachon. The third he was unsure about. "Hey Scott! Where have ya been," Felicia asked. "I was just about to ask that!" Scott thought, "Ah, gotta be Teresita." He had heard of the Vaq Twin's mind melting abilities, but had never witnessed the phenomenon in person. It was weird. Vachon noticed Scott's expression and smiled. "Oh, don't mind them," he said, "they're always doing that. It is a good question, though, we've been waiting for you. I couldn't keep *these two* (he indicated Cliff and Felicia) from singing, and I'm afraid you've missed the campfire." "Um, yeah." Scott regarded Cliff and Felicia, who looked only slightly guilty. "Prolly a good thing that I was late after all," he thought to himself. He cleared his throat and said, "Well, y'all told me that Vaq HQ was the Church, so I went. . ." Rae exclaimed, "Oh, no! We forgot to tell him we switched headquarters with the Toga Chickens." Tammy turned to Rae. "Isn't that supposed to be 'Toga Chicks'?" "With all the feathers we left in that place, I'd say chickens fits pretty well." The Vaqueros and Vaqueras laughed. "I'm sorry, Scott. Things have been not-so-very-good for the past few days. Javs was kidnapped, and they dyed his hair pink." "Pink?' Vachon nodded. "Pink," he affirmed. Scott looked at the Spaniard. "Looks okay to me," he said. "Shampoo. Lots and lots of shampoo." "Ah. Well, how did they capture him? I mean, he's so much stronger. Was it another vampire?" Tracy Sue stepped forward. "Not possible." "Nope," said Melissa, "not another vampire for many miles." Scott blinked a couple of times. Tabitha thought, "Yup, he's in the right faction." "But I don't understand," Scott said. Vachon sighed. "None of us do. It's a long and complicated story. Suffice it to say that I'm mortal. Everyone is, for now anyway." Scott shook his head. "O-kay." Felicia laughed. "So ya went to the Church, huh?" The new Vaquero rolled his eyes. "Oh, y'all! It was scary. There were all of these women in togas, and they were staring at a bust of some bald guy. What is that about, anyway?" Donna laughed. "Ol' Q-tip head!" "That would be LaCroix," Echo stated. "Yeah, only they call him 'Nunkies'," Emma put in. Scott let out a short burst of laughter. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought it was something very strange. Thanks, y'all that clears *everything* up," he said sarcastically. JoAnne shrugged. "Well, there's no accounting for taste," she said. The shrine was filled with laughter. . .again. "As you may have noticed," Echo said, "we've made a few minor changes around here." Scott looked around at the various decorations and nodded. "Minor, huh?" "We just made it a bit more. . .hospitable," Stephanie explained. "Right, and seeing as you're here *now*, you've missed all the hard work," Nafs put in. "Okay, I suppose I did. Surely I haven't missed *everything*? Isn't there some other plot I can help in?" "Good call, Scott! Believe me, you don't want to get on this group's bad side," Vachon laughed. "So, where do I start?" "I'm soooooo glad you asked," Echo said with a gleam in her eyes. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2 Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!). Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HIVC-0000PO-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:04:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3101; Wed, 18 Aug 99 22:53:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3034; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 22:53:01 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 05:56:01 +0300 Reply-To: dce@dlc.fi Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: dce Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Red Alert! All Shields Up! (1/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 902d7449bb569eab8af5d90bb6c2f23c WAR: Ravenettes: Red Alert! All Shields Up! (1/?) Time: Sunday morning 15/08/99 Place: The Raven Time was sitting at the Raven's back room, hunched over her laptop and happily checking her messages when Janette stormed in. "Who gave you permission to use this room?" Janette snapped in the way of greetings. Time looked up from the screen, startled. "I was just..." "Whatever." Janette wasn't truly interested in her mumbling. "This is *my* room, and I have important business things to take care of, so - SHOO!" She seemed ready to bust a vein, so Time quickly gathered her things and retreated to a safer place. While she was setting her stuff up at the bar she wondered what could have happened to make Janette so wired. Janette was seldom that harsh and impatient with her faction members, and even when she was not pleased with one of them she always kept her cool. Well, most of the time, anyway. Maybe she just needs a little more time to get used to being a morning person, Time thought to herself as she logged on again. She'd slipped her favourite CD on, and hummed quietly along while taking care of her email messages. She was just reading a particularly funny forkni-l note and chuckling at it when Janette burst into the bar. One shrilling look from her and Time quickly set her face to grave. Giving a quick glance towards Janette from the corner of her eye Time continued on with her business. After a few seconds she was again interrupted by Janette. "Do you *have* to listen to that IRRITATING music in my club?!" "Sorry", Time said and quickly killed off the CD. She then tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as she tried to finish off replying to her messages. A few minutes later Time became aware of someone's fingernails drumming against the counter. Heart shrinking she glanced up and met Janette's dark, thundering stare. Time didn't have any idea what she'd done now, but whatever it was she'd better quit, right now. "Uh, I'm all finished now, so I'll... I'll be on my way, now..." she explained haltingly as she, once again, gathered her things and made a hasty exit. Running back upstairs she sighed in relief and hoped that Janette wouldn't be following her there, too. When she found her fellow Ravenettes she did the sisterly thing and warned them about the *Dark* Lady. "So, she wanted to experience a little missing Time, eh?" Claudia asked, grinning as Time finished her story. Time was probably *really* tired of such jokes, because all she did was give Claudia a tired look. Shrugging, Claudia muttered something to herself in Finnish and decided that she'd better save her attempts at phile humour to a time (no pun intended this time around) when she was among other philes. "What do you think it could be?" Julia asked, a little nervous. "As far as I know nothing out of the ordinary has happened", Kimberly said, furrowing her brows while trying to think of some answers. "Yeah, if don't count that little 'accident' that's turned every vampire into a mortal", Teresa commented dryly. "Maybe she's just stressed out." "Maybe." Kimberly nodded still deep in thought. "But actually it kinda reminds me of a friend of mine, when she's experiencing PMS." "PMS?! But vampires don't get PMS," Time disagreed. "That's just it, Janette's not a vampire right now", Kimberly reminded them, nodding enthusiastically now, convinced that she'd just hit the jackpot with her guess. "It does sound like it could be PMS", Claudia agreed slowly. "But if you're right, then what can we possibly do? What would help?" "Vitamin B", Kimberly announced just as Teresa declared, "Bee pollen." "Bee pollen?" Julia raised her right brow in doubt. Teresa just shrugged. "Hey, if it works..." "Well, nothing ever works for me", Claudia revealed. "When it hits me *really* bad all I want is to be left alone, but that just me." "But if it's as bad as Time said we *have to* do something. Right?" Julia said. "So, who wants to take our vitamin/bee pollen suggestions to Janette?" Kimberly asked, looking for a volunteer. "Uh uh, don't look at me, Kimmer." Time shook her head and backed a few steps for a good measure. "I'm not going back down there." No one was meeting Kimberly's questioning gaze and finally she gave a little sigh. "Okay, so I guess we all agree to leave Janette be for the rest of the day. Go sightseeing or stay in your rooms, but whatever you'll do - STAY OUT OF HER WAY." This time she got several eager nods from everyone present. "All right, now scram." -- Claude *NA**NatPacker**N&NPacker**HB* http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/index.html From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HJ6K-00020z-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:42:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5516; Wed, 18 Aug 99 23:40:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8699; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:40:48 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:42:22 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: WAR: ENFORCERS: What are the Odds? (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 06e7996316c1d6193817746d99357715 Title: What Are The Odds? Time: Wednesday, August 18, 1999. Evening 9:50pm Place: L-mart superstore and L-mart parking lot Written By: Enid Rodriguez (Supply Lieutenant of The Enforcers) Story takes place right after "Cars and Carts" Enforcers Steve, Jen, and Kat used with permission. "Weeeee!!!!" Kat shouted with her arms out as if she where on a roller coaster. Riding around L-mart with her shopping cart she was trying to keep herself entertained. More than once she almost ran over a clerk in a fit of frustration. "Where the heck is the solvent?" Kat asked herself, after cleaning up after the Sidney's makeover Kat found it almost impossible to get the dye out of her short fingernails. Enid had told her of this gel that makes the dye easier to wipe off. Just as Kat turned the corner into the next aisle, something, SOMEONE rammed into her. "OHHH!" Kat cried out in shock, closing her eyes. "Kat?" a familiar voice called her name. She opened her eyes to see Jen, Enid, and Steve...in a cart. "Kat, are you hurt?" Jen asked, concerned. Kat checked herself quickly and shook her head no. "What are you doing here?" Steve asked, using his foot to point at her. "I needed that stuff...the solvent." She answered in a sigh. "But I can't seem to find...." but before she could finish she noticed Enid had a bottle already in their cart. Enid grinned, "Here." she said handing Kat the bottle. "Hey!" Steve protested, "I need that too!" Enid softly cuffed Steve upside the head. "Get over it." She chuckled. He then stuck his tongue out at her. "Ladies and gentlemen, L-mart will be closing in 10 minutes, please bring all your items up to the cashier. Thank you." A monotone voice echoed through the speakers. All the enforcers looked at each other, and then their watches. Steve hopped out of the cart. "We need to get back to HQ." He told them tying his coat up. ---------------------------------------- L-mart parking lot, 10:10pm All the enforcers were packing up the supplies for the rest of the week into Steve's Car. "I hope that's everything." Enid sighed. "It better be, I don't want to come back here." Kat growled. Enid looked up at the sky and smiled. "Hey guys, look at the moon!" They all looked at each other and shrugged, and looked up. "Wow!" Jen beamed. "It's a half moon." Steve leaned against his car and folded his arms, "It's bright." Jen and Kat climbed into the back-seat, both yawning. Steve then hoped into the driver's seat. Enid stayed outside, allowing the breeze to brush her face. "You coming?" Steve asked impatiently. Enid nodded and got into the car. "That was a sign." Enid mumbled to herself. "What was that sweetie?" Kat asked her, already rubbing the gel on her pink hands. "The half moon, it has to mean something...." Then Steve, Enid, Jen, and Kat headed back to HQ. Where they would probably spend the night in their offices. From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HJAF-0002No-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:46:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1803; Wed, 18 Aug 99 23:44:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8880; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:44:47 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:46:19 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? (01/04) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: dafe1f6461babf47ef7ac31d95591ba7 WAR: NA: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? (01/04) By Patt, Bons and Jules Time: About 5 - 8 p.m., Wednesday, August 18, 1999 Where: The Church Everyone present used with permission ******************** "Where's my case?" Monica asked. "How should I know?" Tiff replied. "With our luck, it's been stolen and will soon be up for grabs on the Home Shopping Network." Several of the Addicts grumbled aloud as they milled about what had been the main floor of the Church, trying desperately to find a spot less dusty than the one they'd just seen. "I know we were worried about rats," Dee chimed in, "but I don't think a rat would even want to move in here." "Don't get your hopes up," Allie told her as she spied a small Laz-E-Boy and television being set up in the shaving-filled cage next to her. Erik looked around the room. This place had even less privacy than the Shrine. He sighed and was about to check out the choir loft when he and the other Addicts heard Christy's bloodcurdling scream from the area of the Church's former baptismal font. They rushed in to find Glennis had fainted and Christy's hair standing on end. "What?!!" Erik asked her forcefully as he grabbed her by the shoulders. Christy could only point to the HP who was leaning against the front doors of the Church, rolling her eyes. "All I said was," she began, "'Lacroix is coming to dinner.'" As she watched the remainder of the conscious, female Addicts join Glennis on the floor, and Erik run for the Sacred Smelling Salts, the Priestess made a mental note to herself to research the possible benefits of reviving the Praetorian Guard. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was was the Dark CERK Perk, Laura, white flag in hand. "I got the invitation," she said smiling. "Can I come in?" "Of course!" Jules answered, glad to see her and grinning at the truce symbol she held. "I was just about to pour a cuppa," she added as she gave the blonde Californian a tight hug. "I need one more than you know. Coffee?" "Like, I'd turn it down? Hey, why's Glennis laying on the floor?" she asked as they stepped over Glenn's prone figure. It came to her then, and the two women answered in sync, understanding Glennis' plight all too well. "Meltdown!" ********************* Two more hours later.... "Left....Right....Left....Back....Left....No, wait..." "Auch, will ya make up yer mind, woman!" Heather told Caren, who was now cheerfully dressed in her Marta Suture's apron from K-Wal. All around them, Addicts busied themselves waxing (er, not that kind of waxing) and buffing and, of course, disinfecting. "Yeah," added Sukh, "we can't keep moving these tables all day. We've got places to go, Scotch to drink..." Her thought was interrupted, however, as Bons took a tumble in one of the red velvet hangings (a tasteful red, mind) with which she had been covering the walls. "MY EYES!! MY EYES!!" the petite Scribe yelled as her hands reached out for something tangible to hold onto. "It's not fair! It's just not fair!" she continued and stumbled forward. Just then Supaige walked by, caught her and easily divested her of the red fabric. "Oh, thanks, Sue," she said looking sheepish, then, noticing the roomful of Addicts turned in her direction, added quietly, "Never mind..." Caren's good mood had definitely deteriorated, and she turned her attention back to Heather and Sukh. "Look, Jules put me in charge of getting something resembling a dining room set up, and, by gumbo, that's what I'm going to do! It could be worse, you know." "Yeah, right," Sukh muttered. "Yeah, right," Caren repeated as her eyes narrowed. "You could have Patt ordering you around! Now, quit griping, and leave that table there!" "Thank the Highlander," the Celtic-belted pair said under their collective breath. "Anything else?" asked the MacCousin. The Louisianan shook her head. "No, that should be it. If I were you, I'd be thinking about getting cleaned up," she added, looking at her watch. "It's already seven! We've only got one hour until Nunkies shows!" Now, for those of you who haven't paid a visit to NA, the effect of these words upon Addicts is equivalent to the reaction one sees when someone yells "FIRE!" in a public place; "The drinks are on me!!" at the local; and "Anyone want this $100,000 I'm giving away?!" that latter, which, of course, is something none of us will ever see *or* hear, but it gives you the general idea: people scurrying madly in every direction, in this case, after a long afternoon of cleaning, to retrieve toiletries and towels and, thereafter to queue up and wait for the one tiny bathroom in the entire establishment. And wait...and wait...and wait...until people finally gave up, sat down, and started games of dominoes, poker and "Trivial Angst." The door finally opened, however, and Jules exited in her red satin robe, a towel wrapped around her just washed hair. A small group of Addicts stood together and whispered amongst themselves. "Should have known," said Glennis. "Never fails," Supaige agreed. "What *takes* her so long???" asked Erik. "Shhhhh!" said Bons. "If she hears you, you'll get grout duty. AAAAAAAA!" The NA Scribe jumped at the touch of Jules' hand on her shoulder. "Nope," Jules told all of them. "For the duration of our stay here, I've suspended grout duty." "You have??" asked Monica, who couldn't help but overhear. "Yes," Jules affirmed as she continued on her way. "I mean, how much grout *is* there in this place, anyway? On the other hand, Toronto is full of hot wax..." "Uh oh." "We're dead." "Yup..." ********************** Glennis checked her bag for the third time. Yep, that's extra drool cups, wet naps, and tax forms (Glennis' personal choice for an anti-Nunklear device). Ever since she had heard that Nunkies was coming to dinner, Glennis had been yo-yoing between meltdown and sanity (well, as close to sanity as she ever really got). She had been having visions of Nunkies eating fried chicken, the finger lickin' good kind, all day long. It was enough to send any good Addict into meltdown. Nunkies...licking each of his fingers...slowly..... With well practiced motions, Glennis reached into her bag, grabbed a wet nap, quickly wiped the drool from her chin, shook her head to clear the images, and headed out to dinner, fervently hoping for fried chicken. ***************** "Where's Patt?" asked Jules. "I don't know," Caren replied. "It seems odd that she isn't here yet. I hope nothing happened to her. You don't think she could have fallen into a Well O' Doom, do you?" "Hmmm...Since Vachon has had a, ahem, presence in parts of this War, I wouldn't put it past him to have gotten into her hard drive. If that's the case..." "Hey, Jules! Do you see that?" interrupted Supaige. "Someone's driving the Jag, and it's not you!" "Yup, right on time," answered Jules as she checked her wristwatch. "Vampire men...Gotta love 'em." Eight p.m. had, indeed, finally arrived, and with it, the Jag, bearing the guest of honour. Wearing their finest available clothes for the evening, the Addicts met the object of their devotion just inside the Church's main entrance. It had seemed odd to watch Lacroix drive up in the Jag; they were much too used to him arriving in the 'old fashioned' way, in a split second and with a gust of wind. That aside, everyone was half-dreading, half-loving the moment. What would Lacroix be like as a mortal? How was he taking his new 'condition'? As he exited the vehicle, it was not difficult to discern. "He almost looks...," Laura began as she nudged Ivy with her elbow, then paused, searching for the right word. "Uncertain? Angry?" Ivy asked, not turning to look at her fellow Addict. Laura nodded her silent agreement. For a moment, Jules wondered if this had been a good idea after all. Lacroix had to be feeling out of sorts...weak...vulnerable. And how he would hate that, hate even more any public display of that weakened condition. Her first instinct was - as it was no doubt for most, if not all of the other members of NA - to go to him, but a sixth sense kicked in, telling her that going overboard in an emotional way would only make things more difficult for him. So, instead, she merely motioned him inside what had become, for one evening, a great hall, resplendent in burgundy red velvet and the glow of a thousand candles. Those present, followed, still wondering what the evening would hold... End Part 01/04 ***************** KnightGal@aol.com From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HJAL-0002O3-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:47:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3609; Wed, 18 Aug 99 23:41:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8755; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:41:59 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 03:43:49 +0000 Reply-To: morgaine@ATT.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Amber Gorby Subject: WAR: CotK: "An Uneventful Evening...Or Was It?" (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 08b0428a038d32cc9c8b5fef5052ea8a Title: War: "An Uneventful Evening...Or Was It?" (1 of 1) Written by: Morgaine, with the gracious help of Margie Setting: CotK Comfy Cottage (HQ), indoors and out Time: Thursday, Aug. 19, Early evening (All players used with permission.) THWAP! "Morgaine, watch out for the banner!" "Calm down, Anjali. Least I'm not the one who nearly lopped Margie's head off earlier!" "She ducked in time! Besides, you startled me. Next time you're gonna swing from the dining room chandelier like that, give me some warning!" "Okay, okay." THWACK! WHOOSH! The two youngest CotK war-players giggled fiendishly as they darted around the living room, lightsabers flying. Attempting to look dignified while brandishing her plastic weapon, Anjali lunged at her opponent with a barbaric battle cry. "YAAAAH!" "Eeek!" Nearly dropping her weapon, Morgaine avoided the blow by diving behind the large couch. Anjali smiled victoriously. "I win! I'm tired...enough for now, okay Morgaine?" The redhead leaped up to a standing position. "Okay. I just want us to be able to defend ourselves in case..." Her voice lowered. "...NA decides to seek revenge for our little prank." "Don't worry," Anjali reassured her friend. "Aren't you and Lisa making cookies for them or something? As a bribe to keep our heads off pikes and Lisa out of more grout duty?" Morgaine lifted her head and replied haughtily, "The cookies are a symbol of friendship between our factions. A gesture showing our respect and good feelings." "So...a bribe?" "Yes." "I think Margie's still putting away the groceries, including the chocolate fudge for the cookies. I'm gonna go see her...you wanna come?" "Nah. Gotta feed the S.P.s. See ya later." Pulling on her jacket and grabbing a bulging plastic bag, Morgaine gleefully bounded out the front door. After a short stroll northwest, the chicken coop came into her view. As did Kyer, who was leaning on the fence that enclosed the extraterrestrial poultry. Mr. Spitz, her llama puppet, occupied his usual place of honor on her arm. Morgaine smiled as she approached, listening to Kyer talk to the puppet. "Nice little chickens, aren't they, Mr. Spitz? No, Mr. Spitz, *you* ask them if there's such a thing as a Space Llama!" "Hi, Kyer." "Ack!" The Arizonan jumped at the unexpected sound of her friend's voice, accidentally sending Mr. Spitz flying into the coop. "Oh, no! Mr. Spitz!! Fear not, I'll save you!" Kyer took a deep breath and prepared to throw herself over the fence, but Morgaine stopped her. "Wait a sec, Kyer. They won't hurt Mr. Spitz. They're vegetarians, like you." Kyer still looked a bit suspicious, but sighed with relief when the Space Chickens simply stared calmly at the furry intruder. Morgaine addressed the Chickens. "Could one of you please *carefully* bring the puppet back to Kyer?" The Chickens seemed to deliberate amongst themselves. "What, are you guys mercenaries now? C'mon...I even brought you one of your favorite snacks." Morgaine slowly waved a bag of Oreo cookies mixed with ketchup at her pets. Kyer turned faintly green, but the Space Chickens became excited. One of the larger ones picked up the puppet by its tag, disappeared with a flash, and reappeared at Kyer's feet. Kyer cautiously took back her beloved llama, and gratefully patted the Chicken's head. "Cute chickens," said a voice from behind. "Aaah!" Both Kyer and Morgaine jumped at Lisa's voice. Kyer frowned at her faction mates. "They're in on it together...trying to scare us, aren't they Mr. Spitz? Bad Easterners!" Kyer shook her finger at Morgaine and Lisa. Lisa smiled. "She's got us all figured out. But anyway, Morgaine, why is that Chicken wearing a necklace?" "Huh?" Morgaine bent down for a better look. Sure enough, a silver chain had been neatly placed over the Chicken's head. On it was a small silver cube inlaid with strange designs. She gently removed the necklace and held it up. "Kewl!", commented Lisa. "What is it?" "Dunno. But it was left here on purpose." "How do you know that for sure?" Lisa asked. "Because the Space Chickens don't collect things, and they don't *make* anything but noise." Lisa nodded. "It might have something to do with the war. We'd better keep it. Morgaine, why don't you wear it?" "Uh...no. You." "Heck no! We don't know where it came from or what it does!" "Exactly! What if it's some diabolical, fiendish thingy?!" Lisa and Morgaine suddenly smiled, and slowly turned their heads to face Kyer. Kyer waved Mr. Spitz at them. "Uh uh! No way! You're not risking this Squirette for the purposes of holding a thingy that might be fiendish!" Morgaine sighed. "Okay. Let's go show it to Margie, J.L. and Anjali. Maybe one of them knows something about this." The three, after quickly feeding the Chickens, headed back to the Cottage. They walked slowly, discussing their discovery. "What do you guys make of those weird symbols?" asked Lisa. Kyer shrugged. "Don't look Peruvian or Incan." Morgaine shrugged. "Don't look Celtic." Kyer suddenly spoke again. "Don't be silly, Mr. Spitz, of course you can't wear it. It's not your style." Lisa grinned. "Actually that's a good idea. Just till we can appoint someone to hold it..." Morgaine nodded and fixed the necklace securely around the stuffed llama's neck. Lisa and Morgaine ran ahead to the Cottage. Kyer stayed behind, walking slowly. She shook her head. "Can't ever keep your mouth shut, can you, Mr. Spitz?" FIN Morgaine, CotK war co-leader morgaine@worldnet.att.net Note: written with the kind cooperation of the Space Chickens From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HJBX-0002Qv-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:48:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5540; Wed, 18 Aug 99 23:46:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9008; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:46:09 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:47:52 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (02/04) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b4ffc0924ff3e27e2770e41060f7a090 WAR: NA: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? (02/04) By Patt, Bons and Jules Time: Between 8 p.m. and Midnight, August 18-19, 1999 Where: The Church Everyone present (and their snippets) used with permission ******************* Sometime later, MacCousin and Sukh wandered into the churchyard, having made a quick run to the Fiendish Glow. "I hope he likes Glen Livet," murmured MacCousin, as she looked at the bottle she'd taken from her personal stock. "Me, too," added Sukh. "We need to get back in Nunkies' good graces." "I know," sighed MacCousin Heather. They had found a scrap of the Hunting MacIntyre tartan Brenda had been using earlier to make a dress for MacHeather, and tied it around the bottle. The liquid inside burned with an amber glow. Sukh held a large quaiche - which had a large knotwork patteron on its sides - wrapped in another scrap of the MacIntyre tartan in her hands for LaCroix. Hopefully, the gifts would do the trick. The tartan-covered pair looked at one another. "You got the Wills to our solicitors?" asked Heather. "Check," answered Sukh. "Then I think," said Heather, "that it's time for a wee bit o' supper..." ****************** Jennifer approached from the opposite side of the church grounds, dazed, her improvised toga askew. She carried one cat in her arms, and led her horse, with the other cat on his saddle. She took a few moments to untack Coup before letting him loose to graze and scooping up her precious girls to carry them inside. When she finally wandered into the church proper, still somewhat dazed by the blow Cousinly Leader Tser had given her head, she noticed that the Addicts gathered for dinner were in various stages of meltdown. Then she saw something that made her skin crawl. Problem was, her skin was crawling out of fear, not near-meltdown pleasure. There was Nunkies, respledant in his Nunkie-ness. Not to mention, she was pretty sure he had seen her capture Cousin Tser. In fact, she vaguely remembered demanding the use of his "servant" and turning her back on the fuming General. There was only one thing to say in a situation like this. "Crud!" Jennifer clutched her kitties closer to her chest, and slunk to the seat furthest from the potentially angry idol of her affection. Decidingly that she was safe for the time being, she settled into the chair with her darlings, and let herself melt in the glow of her favorite radio personality, all the while praying to TPTB that she would be safe. *********************** Christy carefully adjusted her new forest green silk blouse and matching suede skirt. (Or was the outfit technically Patt's? She wondered, since it *had* been purchased on the Third Cousin's credit card. She dismissed the thought quickly. Nunkies wouldn't approve of the guilt she had been feeling over her little spending spree.) Should she undo one more button or would that be considered...tacky? She tried the look. Nope. Definitely tacky. The button was fastened once again. Checking her makeup one last time, she decided everything was perfect...or at least as perfect as she could make it...with a single exception. She reached for the mouse ears and carefully set them down on her just-coifed tresses. Now she was ready to go forth and meet the world...or at least the man who had become the center of *her* world. She walked into the room, and there he was...Nunkies...surrounded by his faithful followers. A silly grin spread itself over her face as she sauntered toward the assembled addicts, and she prayed that she didn't go into an immediate meltdown. A girl had to eat, after all... ************** Much later that night... MacCousin looked over the now-mortal LaCroix and felt her knees become Jell-O. He still hadn't lost that certain something. LaCroix noticed MacCousin Heather watching him and stared back a moment. "How are your wedding plans going?" "Better," answered the MacCousin. "Sukh and I have some gifts for you." "Isn't it traditional that I give you the gift?" Nunkies stood and walked over to the renegade addicts. "Yes, well..." began MacCousin, slightly flustered. A warm hand slid onto her shoulder. LaCroix plucked the bottle from MacCousin's hands. "Thank you. I know this is your favorite." He turned to Sukh. "I notice you took Roy with you." "Uh huh," said Sukh. "I see. Is this for me as well?" he asked Sukh. A hand gently rested on her shoulder now. "Yes," Sukh grinned. "It's a qaiche, a ScottishO" "I realize what a quaiche is," LaCroix said. He held it up. "I remember when I fought against the Gauls. Many Picts joined the battles. Their leaders had these with them." "Thank you, ladies," he purred as he took his seat once more. "I'm very grateful that you aren't locked away in that other man'sO" He paused then, remembering the no crossover rules.... End Part 02/04 ************************ KnightGal@aol.com From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:18 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HJKk-0002nE-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:57:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3653; Wed, 18 Aug 99 23:55:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9401; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:55:42 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:58:23 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: An Interview? (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c000f02224d892575d70ccd8684958b1 Title: Cousins LCL: An Interview? (1/1) Date: Tuesday, August 17, 1999 Time: Around 2pm=20 By: Arletta Asbury and Maria Wiberg disclaimer: Bridget Jorgensen is a fictional character. Arletta looked at her watch. She couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. It should be easy to hire someone to conduct the tours for them. Goodness knows *they* weren't qualified to do it. She turned slightly red at the thought of Shelley's first attempt. Asymmetric Kanting. Why couldn't Shelley have gotten that term right? Arletta looked at her watch again. Knock. Knock. Arletta hurried to open the door. Outside stood a tall, statuesque blonde. Gorgeous even. Arletta was suddenly very conscious of her own less than perfect figure. "Bridget Jorgenson?" Arletta asked. The newcomer smiled and said, "Bridget JorgenSEN." Then she nodded. "Come in," Arletta said. "I'm Arletta," and motioned Bridget inside. "Follow me." Arletta led the way to the dining hall where they sat opposite each other near one end of the table. Earlier Arletta had decided that the dining hall was the best choice for an interview. Not too formal like facing each other over a desk would be. And not too silly as sitting on straight wooden chairs in one of the otherwise empty rooms would have been. Focusing her attention on the applicant once again, Arletta began the interview. "How did you hear about this position?" "Vad =E4r det h=E4r f=F6r st=E4lle?" Bridget said, looking around. "I beg your pardon," Arletta murmered. "Vad g=E4ller jobbet, de sade n=E5got om rundturer?" Arletta realized that she was having hallucinations. She MUST be having hallucinations. "Uhh...." "Ambassaden skickade hit mig. De sa att ni beh=F6vde anst=E4lla n=E5gon." "Sprechen Sie English?" Arletta tried her best German 101 phase. Bridget looked puzzled, "Du talar inte Svenska?" In one more, desperate attempt, Arletta tried her nearly forgotten=20 Junior High Spanish, "Habla English?" =20 "=C4r inte rundturerna f=F6r utl=E4ndska studenter?" Arletta held her head in her hands and ran screaming from the room. ----------------- ps. Bridget was speaking Swedish. From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HJZS-0002yI-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 00:12:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3877; Thu, 19 Aug 99 00:10:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1797; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 00:10:29 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 21:10:02 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Goodbyes are Hard To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7338b5361dab0fd4434cd6bd490528f6 Title: Goodbyes are hard Time: August 18, 1999 11am By: Jennifer Mendenhall With a minor addition by Roz The phone rang in the loft and one of the Knighties jumped to answer the call. "Jenn! Phone for you!" The shout came. Jenn reached for the phone. "Hello? . . . Yes, I understand . . . uh-huh . .. I'll come home as soon as I can." She carefully placed the phone back in place. Jenn then approached her fellow leaders and Nick. "I'm really sorry to strand you guys like this, but I have to leave. I'm really going to miss you guys." She said as she reached out and gave each of them a hug in turn. Jenn then called for a cab and waited until its arrival. She got in, gave the loft one last glance and waved goodbye as she sped towards the airport and home. *********************************** And as her plane circled overhead before heading West, Nick and the Knighties, Nancy and Roz, thought about how when Jenn got down to that last hug with Nick a voice rang out, "Puppy Pile!". And so it was done. And as they all helped her out with her luggage, Nancy thought to herself *Dang! There goes another one.* ****************************** From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HK1j-00039e-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 00:42:12 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4019; Thu, 19 Aug 99 00:40:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3532; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 00:40:00 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 00:39:39 -0700 Reply-To: E McCann Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: E McCann Subject: WAR: DP/FoD: Souvlakigram! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0616d733ca1315257b89b429d310d385 Souvlakigram! 1/1 Time: Not all that important, sometime Wednesday when everyone's got a minute. Spifff and Beverly from the FoDs, and SNB and Andrea from the dps used with permission. Souvlakigram! 1/1 Leah sat in the corner of the Happy Souvlaki, wondering why nobody called her by her old nickname (Rainey) any more. She also wondered how her kitties were doing. She'd had to leave them at the Hollendaise Inn (special rates for FODs, after all) while she came to help out at the deli. Much of the time she was at the hotel because of the kitties (that's why she hasn't been written in to too many war posts yet.) "Leah, what's wrong?" Spifff asked. "I got in late and I've been so busy since the war started. I had to rush back home and pick up the cats and run to Toronto. Eric had already left and I haven't seen him in two weeks. I even brought a whole bunch of coffee from the coffee house in Oregon that he likes, but he doesn't even know I'm here yet." Leah had a big idea... "Spifff, come with me to the kitchen, we need to make a huge Souvlaki dinner." Leah asked Beverly if she could deliver the meal and the coffee to the Dark Perk mansion. She reluctantly agreed. "I'm willing to submit myself to torture, but I must confess that DPs frighten me :)." ============ Eric sat slumped in a chair at the Dark Perk mansion, coffee cup in hand, watching the spot where the TV used to be. It didn't make much difference. He just sat and wondered why he hadn't heard from his wife yet. "I know she was supposed to be in the war," he told the room. The walls didn't have any comment. He also wondered where their cats were, and if anyone was taking care of them. He knew Leah wouldn't leave them by themselves. "Maybe that's what happened... she couldn't find anyone to take care of them so she stayed home instead." He took another sip of coffee, wishing he'd brought some of the coffee Leah brings home from that coffee shop in Oregon. "Good stuff, that," he thought to himself. He got up and made his way to the kitchen, idly kicking one of the house demons out of the way. As he poured his fifth cup of the day, the doorbell rang. "Hello.... coffee!" he heard, as SNB, one of his fellow DP's, opened the door. "And more... and... of course we'll sign for this... gimme!" He turned to head towards the front door to find out what all the commotion was about. "Oh, Eric... I think this one's for you." "What do you mean?" Beverly, one of the FoDs, nervously handed over a steaming package. "Souvlakigram." "Souv... " Eric almost dropped his coffee cup in the rush to get to the package. Tearing it open, he munched happily as he read the note. He grabbed another bit of Souvlaki, grinning happily. "It's... " He looked at the label on the coffee : "Oregon Coast Coffeehouse." (Not a real coffeehouse.) His grin spread and he let out a whoop of joy. "I know, it's more coffee!" "No, no, it's not that. Gotta go, hold this, enjoy, make some of that, drink up, goodstuff," he said as he thrust the souvlaki remnants on the befuddled Dark Perk and rushed out the door. SNB and Beverly both watched him run down the road. "What was that all about?' Andrea (who had recently come to the door to investigate the smell of coffee) looked down, then picked up the note. After reading it, she grinned. "Apparently his wife made it into town. Between that and all the coffee he's had, he'll get there in no time." From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HKCV-0003LC-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 00:53:19 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4042; Thu, 19 Aug 99 00:51:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3877; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 00:51:11 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:52:59 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: Guess Who's Coming To Dinner? (03/04) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0c34c57cd6576ccd0e9165d8bb7e5b1e WAR: NA: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? (03/04) By Patt, Bons and Jules Time: Between 8 p.m. and Midnight, August 18-19, 1999 Where: The Church Everyone present (and their snippets) used with permission **************** Bons, who hadn't joined the other Addicts at fawning over LaCroix's arrival, didn't join the table until the main course. She padded into the room, her steps loud, emphasizing her bare feet. As she passed people seated in the pew on one side of the table, Ivy, KC, Christy, Glennis, Laura and RevSam, she patted the Addicts precisely coifed hair. "Duck...Duck...Duck...Duck...Duck...Duck..." Then Bonnie passed Shele, who Ted had leaned against her section of pew as though she was a golf bag, smacking the plastered poet wholeheartedly on the head. "GOOSE!!!" Letting out a squeal of delight, Bons raced around the table. The younger addicts, unable to resist following the poor example set by their elder, jumped up from the table and over the bench back, joining the chase. Both Jules and LaCroix frowned sternly at the whooping from their places of honor at either end of the table. Cousin Erik decided to not run unless the addicts were chasing him. Laura decided to play it cool. She was here to impress the General, not gallop around shrieking like a banshee. Ted hefted Shele over his shoulder like a canoe and jogged her around the table. Shele had instructed him to boom-slap Bonnie soundly with her person if he caught up with the Scribe in the allotted lap. Ending the Chinese fire drill, the runners settled back at their place settings amidst giggles and heavy breathing. Jules set down her cutlery, speaking in a loud, cool voice, "Ignore Bonnie. She's simply acting out her displeasure." LaCroix raised an eyebrow, appearing affronted that one of the addicts had the gall to be unhappy about anything in his presence, much less demonstrate it to him. "Really. And what could the little Scribe possibly have to be displeased about?" His use of the word 'little' was drawn out in such a way as to imply the answer was truly insignificant to him, but he had asked because *he,* at least, had manners. "Ooh!" Bonnie raised her hand in the air, flapping it madly. "I know! I know! Could it be I'm upset because I had to sell my non-sensible shoe collection for bail money???" Bons lifted her naked foot onto the table (Not an ounce of social nicety in sight!) and wiggled her digits. "Ah, dirty feet! If I'm lucky, maybe I'll have black toes in time for Conversion Day!" Jules was very put out at this suggestion, but too well-groomed to let everyone see it. "Look! A Dinosaur!" she called. When everyone (except LaCroix) glanced away, she threw her buttered hot cross bun at the Scribe's head, beaning her soundly. "Excellent throwing arm, Jules," LaCroix murmured smoothly, taking a sip from his Bordeaux (Yes, there were a few things he appreciated about the mortal palate). "Thank you," Jules said serenely, lifting her own glass to toast with the General from afar. Bonnie, bruised noggin aside, was not silenced yet. "Or maybe I'm traumatized over the fates of my fellow Addicts! Shele has been luring perching pigeons all week!" Bons picked a few tiny green peas off her plate, and began tossing them toward the petrified Poet Laureate, trying to score her mouth hole. Peas kept rolling off Shele and onto the floor. "Then there's Tiff, forced to spend the night in jail because of *another* faction!" She shot a hard stare at Laura, who decided to practice playing innocent. "The 'Nothers threw Tiff in jail!? How awful!" "You know that's not what I meant!" Bonnie huffed. Laura sent LaCroix an apologetic, angelic, 'Alas, we must humor the mentally ill' smile. He gifted her an approving smile in return, causing Laura to dive for her coffee mug. She wanted a Nunkies toast, too. "And don't forget Jennifer," Bonnie continued, flicking another pea at Shele, "or should I say, 'The Emperor'?" LaCroix eyed the now-reformed delusional addict sternly. "Yes, I had the unpleasant joy of an encounter with Caligula." His stare read: 'Don't let it happen again.' Jennifer shrunk down into her chair, nibbling morosely on her terrine. "And then there's Patt," Bons went on, "missing-in-action Patt. Who knows what ghastliness happened to keep the Third Cousin away from us?" "I say either aliens or Vaqueras got her," KC pitched in. "Either way, she'll end up coated in something greasy and indescribable." "Or maybe I'm pea-turbed..." Bonnie continued to babble brashly, "because there's no vegetarian selection in this banquet like I asked! Where's my soy burger!?" Bonnie whined, then pronged another pea at Shele. Score! The pea plinked into one of Shele's holes. "Mmmmf-mmmrrreeeeeefffuuuuu!" Shele squawked. "Bonnie," Jules said icily. "*Eat* your peas. Don't shoot them up Shele's nose. Honestly! You have no table manners!" The Scribe pouted. Have you noticed how she's lost all claim to her Shiney Happy Place since the hot waxing? "Maybe I'd have more table manners if I wasn't stuck *here*!" "And *whose* fault is that, Cousin Bonnie?" LaCroix said in a deadly tone. Naturally, he expected her to crumple, dissolving into a fit of guilty tears that it was all, *all* her fault. That's what he was used to. "It's Your Fault!" Bonnie shot back. The gathered Addicts gasped. LaCroix wasn't surprised, however. This was the *second* most common response that he'd grown accustomed to over the years. "You must be very, very angry with me, then," LaCroix replied, his voice winding smoothly around the words, a python ready to choke. It was obvious he was humoring her by even listening to her complaints, indulging in a favorite old past-time thought lost with his newfound, unwelcome mortality. "Why, I suppose I am," Bons retorted, sending him a smarmy 'I know what you're thinking' grin. "If you hadn't instigated all that remodeling, we would have never been tempted to switch with the Vaqueras! You *knew* a war was on the way, yet you arranged to have the roof ripped off, regardless!!! You had no business dumping such an impossible job on Patt's shoulders! How idiotic and unfeeling is *that*?!" There was dead silence at the table. Everyone turned their eyes to LaCroix to see what he would do next. Witty repartee? Spiky setdown? Spontaneous throttling? After a long, excruciatingly awkward silence, it seemed everyone jumped at the same time to pretend they weren't staring. Dozens of hands snatched up their drink glasses and swigged in unison. Then, realizing how obvious they all looked, everyone simultaneously replaced their glasses on the table, sending panicked looks between the General and the Scribe. "As I recall," LaCroix finally bit out, "it is a Shrine to *me.* You have never owned the property, therefore have no right to protest how it is maintained." He leaned menacingly over the table, his cold, blue eyes dissecting her. "Or are you trying to tell us something? Have you lost your addiction, Bonnie?" Imagining with horror the possibility that Bons just might answer 'yes,' Jules jumped into the fray. "Now, Bonnie, you can't place all the blame on LaCroix's shoulders." Several addicts turned at the mention of the General's shoulders and gazed at said body part with delight. "You *chose* to arrange the switch without asking our opinion. The Vaqueras *chose* to trash the church before we arrived. Vachon *chose* to not mention to Patt and I half the roof was missing." Jules reached for her wine glass, deciding she'd earned another sip with her excellent reasoning of LaCroix's innocence. The Bordeaux turned to ashes on her tongue, though, when she noticed both LaCroix and Bonnie's ire was now directed at *her* rather than each other. "You've been spending time with the Spaniard?" LaCroix hissed. "On *purpose*?!?!" KC cried in shocked disbelief. Jules thought. "Patt and I just met him for drinks Sunday night. It was nothing! Really! We barely had a great time!" she excused in a frantic rush. Bons hopped to her bare feet. "Jules! How could you!?" >From her expression, it was obvious Bonnie's real question was 'How come I wasn't invited?!?!' She climbed over the back rail of the pew, then padded across the room toward the guilty High Priestess' chair. "You wrote a post starring *Vachon*???" Jules took a hearty chug of her red wine. "Patt did, too! She wrote almost everything!" "I expect such behavior from Patt," LaCroix chided. "No doubt she's dabbled with that Spark person as well. But you, Jules, I expect a shred more loyalty from my own personal assistant. My own High Priestess." "I'd just found out you were mortal! I needed a drink!" Jules protested. LaCroix arched his eyebrow, then conceded grandly, "I suppose I must forgive you this one occasion." "Oh, sure! Forgive her!" Bons snapped. "Forgive Patt, too, while you're at it!" She propped both her hands on the table, asking the dinner guests urgently, "Don't you see what's happened? Jules and Patt used *Vachon* in a story. You know what happens every time that Spaniard gets anywhere near one of our hard drives!" Jules paled. LaCroix growled. Shele mffed, "Mff!" The rest of the addict expressions ranged from dread, to queasiness, to 'What the hell are they talking about? Is this another one of those secrets we newbies have to drag out of them kicking and screaming?' Jules' hands trembled as she pushed aside her wine glass and dove for the entire bottle. "Vachon has story control!" "Exactly!" Bons formed a fist and began to thump herself on the forehead as she paced. "No wonder I've been acting out of character lately! No wonder I thought the HQ switch was such a brilliant idea! No wonder I sacrificed my precious baby shoes to help a boyband! No wonder I've been yelling at LaCroix tonight so he'll be tempted to strangle me! I'm under the influence!" "I hope you have all learned a serious lesson this time," LaCroix lectured. "Now that you are aware of the Spaniard's influence, you can fight it." KC spoke up again. "But why should we fight it? Why should we even blink over this? What could Vachon possibly do to us?" "First, there will be continuity errors, small at first, but gradually, they will grow to such magnitude that you go mad. Then, one by one," LaCroix pronounced in a spooky voice, "you will fall down a randomly placed Well O' Doom, never to be heard from again...at least, this War." All the addicts shuddered. Story control was a terrible thing to waste. "Pardon me for saying it," Laura announced as she reached for her coffee mug, "but I'd just like to say I'm thankful I'm a Dark Perk. We don't have a problem maintaining story control, thankyouverymuch." Everyone glared at her. She glared back. "I said 'Pardon me!'" "Now..." LaCroix drawled, shaking his linen napkin and replacing it in his lap, "...if we are quite finished with the dramatic portion of our evening, I suggest we all continue with the meal. Bonnie...sit." Bons appeared a bit mulish, but she padded back to the table and climbed back over the pew. LaCroix couldn't resist one last command. "Eat your peas." Oh, and one last goad. "And, Bonnie?" Bons looked up from her peas warily. "Yes, sir?" "Wanting to strangle you is an *old* temptation." End Part 03/04 From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HKOk-0004vV-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 01:05:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6006; Thu, 19 Aug 99 01:03:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4585; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 01:03:51 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 00:04:35 -0500 Reply-To: Ann Bridges Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Ann Bridges Subject: War: Harem: The Chase is on! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9fe079b19c3ec63f882e72159cba277f War: Harem: The Chase is on! By: Amethyst Date: Tuesday, Aug. 17 Time: Afternoon/evening Follows: 'NA/Harem: Cushioned for Impact' & 'NA: Just a 'Nother long day 01/02' Amethyst sped after the white van, still unaware that all the precious pillows she and Patt had purchased were dropping, breadcrumb like, behind her! It was doubtful that had she noticed she would have stopped, that was Nick's Couch!! Amethyst reached for her purse and dug out her cell phone. She called HQ, "Rick, look don't ask, just tell me is Randora there??" "No she is on her way back from getting your van fixed . . ." "Fixed? What's wrong with it? She told me she was picking up stuff we needed!" "I don't know that's just what she said!" "K, bye!" *I just hope Randora has fully charged her phone!* She quickly dialed Wife#1's cell phone. "Randora, you will NEVER guess what I'm doing!!" "Having a Nicky daydream?" "Well, close! I'm following *THE* couch!" "What Cooouch ... you mean *THE* THE Couch?" "Yes! I'm ... oh, great, I'm going so fast I can't read the street names! I'm not far from CERK!" "Okay, I'll head that way which direction are you going?" "I took a right from CERK." Just then Amethyst noticed a pillow fly out the back, "Uh, go to CERK and follow the trail of black & peach pillows! Don't ask, it's a long story! Hey, I'm going to call Rick and have him check how many couch places there are!" "No you keep an eye on the couch. I'll call Rick, then you." "Fine, bye." Amethyst checked the rearview, no sign of Patt, Cousin, NA or GSS. Amethyst followed the white van for a few more minutes, it pulled into Mike's Sofa Repair. Amethyst parked next door, at Ginger's Dry Cleaning. She called Randora again, "Randy, it's at Mike's Sofa Repair. I'm sitting next door, the drivers went in. The couch is still in the van! Where are you???" "I'm picking up the pillows as I'm following the trail." "Are they dirty??" "Amazingly not really, only one or two of the peachy ones are, but other than that they are fine." *Good, maybe Patt won't kill me too bad!* Amethyst changed the radio to the loudest most obnoxious station she could find. Patt hates that kinda stuff, Amethyst couldn't help it, *Between this and stealing ... borrowing, her truck that should be payback enough for the previous war's mustard attacks!!* Ten minutes later the driver of the van came back, he locked the doors, and went to his car. Amethyst checked her watch, ten after five. The rest of the staff at Mike's filed out the door, and the last one locked the door. They all went to their respective vehicles. Amethyst slid down in the seat as they pulled out. As she sat back up, she realized that the sign at Ginger's said open 4AM till 5:30 PM M-Sun. "Randy! They left for the night!! The couch is STILL in the VAN!!! Hurry!!!!!" ---------------------------------------------------- Ann and the Crazy Crew Steele, Harlee and Cinder knightie@sat.net My ICQ# is 20298309 or, * Page me online through my Personal Communication Center: http://wwp.mirabilis.com/20298309 (go there and try it!) or, * Send me E-mail Express directly to my computer screen 20298309@pager.mirabilis.com ---------------------------------------------------- From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HLvS-00053x-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 02:43:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6351; Thu, 19 Aug 99 02:41:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9013; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 02:41:42 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 02:44:05 -0400 Reply-To: Kim Kocak Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kim Kocak Organization: Prodigy Internet Subject: War: Enforcement: Welcome to Humanity, Janette (01/02) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 58feb4aa065fb321dc900e98bc9505f6 Welcome to Humanity Janette (01/02) By Evil Kim, Enforcer and Cousin Raven Time:Right after the Ravenettes Party Place: Enforcers HQ, the Raven Kim went to her office and sat down. She was thinking about how the war was going. How things change!! Both from the vampires point of view and also for the factions. Laughing to herself, she wondered *how* some vampires liked being mortal. One she knew would kill to stay human while the others, well.... She got up from her chair and went to the CD player to play her favorite CD. What came on was the song Dark Side of the Glass. If the war had a theme song that would win first prize. Moving back and forth with the music, Kim was totally lost. "I see your having fun" chuckled Jen. Enid was right behind her laughing. "The next time both of you come to my office do me a favor *knock*" growled Kim. "C'mon... we'll just teasing you. Anyway, you did have fun with *someone* at the party" Enid said while rolling her eyes. Kim blushed just thinking about it. "Anyway, the reason we'll here to ask you how you felt about the Ravenettes Party and noticed something different about both Alma and Janette and their *condition*? "said Enid. "Especially Alma" chimed Jen "It's seems that Alma was in a bad mood that evening" Enid looked at Jen."Jen, Alma is mortal like the rest of us!! Alma was in the bad mood before she became mortal and she will always be like this after all this is over. Alma could live a long time and she will still have that personality. What about Janette? I heard through the grape vines she wanted to kill Nicola." Laughing so hard that her side hurt Jen replied "Well that explained the reason why *Nicola* didn't show his face at the party! Either she killed him nor he is afraid to face her." "Hmmm....Janette was a little off beat last night, wasn't she, no?" said Kadira The three enforcers turned to see the Kadira by the door overhearing their conversation. True, Janette was not herself at the party and they all knew why. Janette, loved being a vampire and turning mortal was the last thing she ever thought of doing. Janette hated being vulnerable and the Ravenettes was concerned for her. "Your right Kadira, Janette was a little under the weather at the party so what can we do to change that?" Raven asked. The four enforcers jumped to their feet."SIR" "It's OK.. but tell me what the four evil minds had in mind to change all that?" "I know... I know.. " shouted Enid "Welcome Janette to humanity!" "And how can we welcome Janette?" said the Captain quizzically. Then an evil grin came over the Captains face. "Here's the plan" While the five enforcers came together to form a plan. Buzz Buzz "and Steve will do ..... and Enid will go get .... Kadira you can..... The Buzzing continued another 30 minutes. "Everyone got it" said the Captain. "YES" chimed everyone. "Well, lets go!!!!" said Raven and everyone marched out trying to find Steve. In the darkness, shadowman listened to the words from the Dark Side of the Glass. ___________________________________ While he drove to the Raven, Steve was grumbled the whole way. "Why do *I* have to do it? Why ME? Why couldn't you find someone else to do it? "Steve stop complaining" ordered the Captain. She, like all the other enforcers, was getting pretty upset with Steve. "First, Janette is now mortal. And knowing Janette she would be more opened to a handsome guy. *stop* smiling. We need you to seduce Janette away from the Ravenettes so we can grab her so you're important. So *stop grumbling*." Kat chuckled. "Just think Steve, you may get lucky! What happens if Janette has PMS. You'll have more problems especially if Janette is going through that time of month!" All the female enforcers chuckled at the thought of Janette going through *that*. But Steve wasn't all too happy. "Great that's all I need. An ex-vamp having PMS," sighed Steve. When the enforcers arrived to the Raven. The Limo was parked outside so they had to move the van a few blocks down. Steve got out from van. Wearing a suit and tie, he looked very handsome but he was more of a jeans guy. 'The things I do for the war,' Steve thought. Walking in Steve was surprise of seeing the only person by the bar was Janette. She was drinking a red wine and the way she looked wasn't all too happy. Steve moved up to her and asked "Is the Raven still opened?" If looks could kill, Steve would been dead by now. "No, the Raven is closed. And who send you, the Ravenettes? I guess your the salesman for . this thing called Vitamin B or Bee Pollen?" snapped Janette. 'Yep, that time of month' thought Steve. "No, I'm out of town and saw this place opened. Are you alone or are others here with you?" Steve said with a smile. He was using every trick in the book. Seducing someone like Janette well... "Others are in their room sleeping.so in a way I'm here by myself," sighed Janette. This mortality will be the death of her. First the headache and then something that the Ravenette called PMS and now *this*. Just then, Kat, Enid , and Jen came inside. Dressing all in black, they approached both Steve and Janette. "Is this placed open," said Enid. "No........"just then Kat place a handkerchief over Janettes mouth which was full of chloroform. Steve caught the sleepy Janette and said. "Sleep dreams, my lady".Taking Janette away without making a sound to alarm the Ravenettes, they placed Janette inside the van and drove back to their HQ. From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HMwd-0001bS-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 03:49:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6576; Thu, 19 Aug 99 03:46:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1769; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 03:47:00 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 00:49:42 -0700 Reply-To: "Shana N." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Shana N." Subject: WAR: DP: A Little PTD for the Pain To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 443f8e2976fc6e6e32e52bd6b503b7d8 ***************** WAR: DP: "A Little PTD for the Pain" (1/1) Time: Wednesday, middle of the night (18th) Place: DP Mansion by: Shana Nolan **************** She hated headaches. Allergies meant she forgot her daily Allegra, the dull ache in her lower back and hips was, well, normal. A lack of ache from those parts would have been more note worthy. And considering the recent shenanigans... But this headache was clinging to her temples tighter than a FoD to Souvlaki. Lights turned out in her room but the sliding door to the Ballroom o' Doom ajar, pink light swathed the shadows between the passageway and the computer screen, currently on the black and white wallpaper of her favourite galactic anti-hero. ~Can't even read the mail, background colour's too bright.~ she sighed. Dropping a hand to the desk and reaching blindly for the pen and paper, her fingers brushed across a piece of paper. Arching an eyebrow, she picked it up and squinted at it. "This coupon good for one Personal Tranquility Device. Hmm, wonder what would qualify as one of these 'PTD' thingys... " Getting up and walking towards the light, successfully avoiding the spontaneous pink demon conga line that had formed in the Ballroom, the DP Angel held the coupon in one hand, looking to the walls of weapons for potential inspiration. "Have more stakes then a pack of Slayerettes, already convinced the digital theatre to keep running TPM until Titanic was beat, could always get the restraining order lifted, finally got 'Accolade', though I could always do with 'La Jeune Martyre' or 'The Vigil'... " (author's note on artwork: "Accolade": Edmund Blair Leighton, "La Jeune Martyre": Paul Delaroche, "The Vigil": John Pettie) A few minutes passed, Shana finally giving up (actually, her mind went on strike), she sat back down at her computer, opened up vIRC, winced at the blazing white screen, closed it, and glanced at the empty coffee cup sitting next to the computer tower. She gave a sigh that only a caffeine deprived Dark Perk could understand. "Gods, what I would do for a decent painkiller... " Suddenly a Fanfic Faerie appeared over the desk, it's illumination making the Dark Perk Second in Command growl. With a few quick gestures it took the coupon and left two items on the desk, disappearing as quickly as it had arrived. The DP Angel lifted her head, looking around cautiously. Setting unfocused green-hazel eyes on the Faerie's gifts, she raised an eyebrow. "This isn't what I had in mind! A bottle of naproxen sodium and the DVD of 'Pillow Book' are not my idea of personal tranquility... well, okay, hmm, maybe I can work with this... " ******************** Shana, dpangel@thegrid.net the Darth Perk Angel, DP 2nd in Command ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "We are not saints but seekers." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HNdM-0003Ta-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 04:33:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4668; Thu, 19 Aug 99 04:31:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3025; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 04:31:09 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 17:32:45 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcement: Welcome to Humanity, Janette (02/02) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f975e054e28b80e96ce2ba376e3f5b39 Welcome to Humanity Janette (02/02) By Cousin Raven and Evil Kim, Enforcer Place: Enforcers HQ ==================================== Jen Z, Steve, Kim, Enid, Maria, Katilina, Taryn, Amber, and Kadira used with permission. Janette's unconscious body lay over the table, her head leaning over the sink. Enid laughed a maniacal laugh as she started running the water. This would be as much fun as Vachon's was. Jen and Kim watched from a distance, putting the finishing touches on the Janette's new costume. Maria, Katilina, Taryn, Amber and Kadira each came into the room. Katilina saluted Raven, who was standing in the corner trying not to laugh at the image of what Janette was going to look like. "Yes, Tech Seargent? How are the plans for the Barbecue going?" Raven tore her attention away from the activity in the room. Kadilina smiled. "Of course, we worked it all out. It'll be at the Blackwood Arms Hotel lobby, the decorators are working on getting the supplies now." "Art-deco from the twenties? Isn't that what we decided?" "Yes, and we're renting twenties bellhop costumes for us...we can blend right in. They won't even notice us." The Captain smiled, "Good." Janette moaned. The Captain looked up and noticed the hair dye was complete. Blond hair flowed over Janette's shoulders. "Now, all we need to do is straighten it," the Captain said. "Coming right up," Enid quipped. Janette roused slowly. She was still highly irritated, and now she had a headache to boot. She sat up. Captain Raven passed over a glass of water and two small pills. "Here, take these Pamprin, they'll help you." Janette barely choked them down as she was not used to swallowing pills. Finally, Janette cleared her mind. "How dare you! You take me out of my club, you drug me, you wet my hair, just who the hell are you?" The Captain smiled. "We are just a figment of your imagination." Everyone put on their sunglasses and Steve stepped forward with a whammizer. The bright flash forced away Janette's memory of the capture, the pills, and everything since before they came into the Raven. Enid put the finishing touches on Janette's nails, little yellow duck decals. Everyone suppressed complete laughter in favor of waiting for the Ravenette's reaction. -------------- Place: the Raven Janette awoke with a start. Her cramps had gone, her head felt better. She felt in better spirits. She looked around. She was sitting on the floor near the bar, apparently, she'd fallen from her bar stool. She stood up slowly and sat back down on the stool. Across the bar, she looked into the mirror. Shish, what kind of sordid woman would dye her hair platinum blond? Who would wear that kind of green dress? She looked down at herself. They were *HER* clothes and they were *polyester*. Her hair hung in front of her, blond and straight. She screamed loudly as she recognized the green dress as the one she was wearing. Little yellow ducks glared at her from her fingernails. "Aaagggghhhhh!" she screamed. ==================================== Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Evil and Chaos Incarnate Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Thu Aug 19 18:41:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HPlT-0005V5-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 06:49:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7100; Thu, 19 Aug 99 06:47:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9367; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 06:47:40 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 06:48:04 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Pride Goeth Before the Fall 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 027664f1a7b570e4bf26d1bf1518e6ea NA: Pride Goeth Before the Fall 01/01 (see, I can use well known sayings too.) By: Patt Elmore When: Wednesday morning and into the day, August 18, 1999 Where: Cousinly stables, outside the NA Shrine and various other places. Lastly . . . the Church. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Patt awoke to the chill of early morning, Lava was kissing her. Well, actually Lava was trying to steal the carrot piece which was still lodged between Patt's lips. The Third Cousin opened her mouth to protest the intimate contact and the carrot fell out. Lava quickly grabbed it and gobbled it down. "Greedy, aren't ya?" Patt stood up and started brushing hay off of her clothing. Patt sniffed and frowned. "I smell like donkey." Lavalianna flicked her ears. "No offense, Lava," Patt continued. "Smelling like a donkey is fine for a donkey. However, a human smelling like a donkey tends not to get invited to parties and fine dining occasions." With a last look at the Cousinly Headquarters, where only her pride, fear of embarrassment and frightful body odor prevented her from seeking help, Patt returned to the Toronto streets. She decided the best thing to do would be go back and check the condition of the Shrine. Perhaps, fates willing, the Vaqs would have finished their mischief and left. A trek of many blocks later, Patt found that this was not the case. The Vaqs appeared quite at home in the NA Shrine. "Now what?" Patt could continue wander . . . but to where? She knew that staying this close to a Vaq occupied Shrine was probably not a prudent choice, so she decided to move a distance away so that she could think. Patt had no money, no identification and no idea where to go. Because her head was hanging so low as she walked, the Third Cousin did manage to find sufficient change on the sidewalk to make a phone call. Knowing that the Vaqs were still at the Shrine, and probably in command of the phone system, Patt decided her best bet would be to call Bons' beeper number. Patt left a message at the beep, and hoped someone would come to her given location and recover her. And, that is how, many, many hours later, Patt happened to be sitting on a bench a few blocks from the NA Shrine when a small woman came by and attempted to give her a pamphlet. "I've seen it before, thank you," Patt smiled as she politely declined the offer. "Oh, this isn't about that silly French Revolution nonscence," the woman said, determined to force the flyer on Patt. "This is hope for people in your circumstances." "Truck theft victims?" Patt moved away, trying to parry the woman's thrust. "No," the woman said firmly, then her eyes gentled. "The unfortunate, like yourself, who find themselves hungry and without a home." "I have a home . . . I just can't go to it right now," Patt retorted. The woman gave the Third Cousin an appraising look. "Aren't you a little *old* to be running away?" Patt arched an eyebrow at the woman and hissed. "No need to get testy," the woman sputtered. "I was just trying to do my civic duty and help those less fortunate. Perhaps you'd consider one of the mental health clinics more suitable." "Go away!" Patt shouted. "Well, if you change your mind," the woman said sadly, tossing one of the pamphlets at Patt, "there is a mission near here which will gladly take you in, feed you and,"-- *sniff* *sniff* -- "allow you to bathe. God bless you." The woman moved away, going down the street, searching for more indigents to save. Patt picked up the flyer and began to casually scan it. ***Bloor Street Mission: Not just a church, but a salvation.*** The word hung in Patt's brain cavity with heavy implication. Patt closed her eyes, willing a hazy memory to clear. "Oh, gawd!" Patt gasped with sudden realization. "They've switched HQ's. Bons got the bright idea that pews were better than dealing with Pectin and Kriel! She's moved everybody to Javier Haven . . ." Patt jumped up, ready to track her NA sisters down until a debilitating thought hit her. < . . . except me. She moved them all without telling me.> Patt gulped, wondering if she'd been left out in the cold on purpose. Yep, she knew that her status as head of the construction effort did not ingratiate her to the other addicts. She knew that they blamed her for not finding the means to eject Revenue Canada from the Shrine. But, surely, surely they wouldn't just reject her because of these trifles? "Only one way to find out," Patt declared, her heart already leaden. "I'll just go over to V-Church and have a looksee." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As she suspected, there was evidence of NA occupation outside the Vaquera stronghold. She saw several of the addict critters ensconsed in the Vaq paddock area, and there appeared to be new peach curtains in the windows. Patt decided to just sneak around back and get a better look. There didn't seem to be a guard posted, so Patt pushed open the back door an inch. The conversational buzz of polite dinner discourse reached her ears, as well as addict laughter. Her nostrils were engaged next, hearkening to the fabulous smells of all the NA special dishes. Patt took a deep breath, and pushed the door open further. Silently, she slipped inside the darkened sanctuary. Patt followed the sound of voices, which led her through the vestibule and toward what, she supposed, had once been the rectory. The cooking smells flowed heavily around the famished addict, intoxicating her. Reaching a sagging door, she pushed it open slowly. There, amid a profusion of candlelight and the splendor of peach and red, all of the addicts sat around long tables, enjoying a repast fit for a . . . Patt's eyes opened wide as she recognized the dark figure sitting at the head of the main table with Annie flanking him and Jules at the opposite end. The Third Cousin's eyes misted slightly at the full implication of what she saw before her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the end patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Thu Aug 19 18:41:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HUv3-0003jZ-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 12:20:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5807; Thu, 19 Aug 99 12:15:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4142; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 12:15:25 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 12:17:19 -0400 Reply-To: Emma Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Emma Subject: War: Vaq: Good Help is Hard to Find or What Happened to My Cleaning Staff? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e0e7a924b00c43181edc4982669e0749 Title: Good Help is Hard to Find or What Happened to My Cleaning Staff? By Emma Lighton Place: The former NA shrine, now greatly improved with redecoration.:) Time: August 19, Sometime between 9 and 5 Emma stood admiring the now Lacroix free environment of the shrine. Besides a few problems with construction, all of the major ones seemed to have happened while the Nunkies Junkies were still in residence, and the occasional accountant stampede, the place was reasonably pleasant, at least now that the redecorating was finished. Her thoughts were disturbed by an authoritative clearing of the throat behind her. Wondering what she'd done now, Emma turned, expecting to find the Vaqmadre or Vaq Adjutant behind her. Instead, she found a stuffed shirt, containing and older man with graying hair. "The restaurant's over that way." Emma told him, helpfully pointing. "That's not why I'm here." He told her in a gruff voice. "You look over dressed for a construction worker, so what other business could you possibly have here?" "I'm Major Alfred Pectin, head tax officer at the facility, and I would like to know why you and the rest of the cleaning staff have been failing to do your job." Oh yeah, the tax guys. "We aren't the cleaning crew. They left." "Left!" he frowned, "If you aren't part of the cleaning staff, what are you doing here?" "We're part of a secret new undercover branch of the revenue service." Emma told him. She didn't know where that came from, but it sounded convincing for some reason. "Of course. I suppose the 'secret' was so you could use it to explain why I haven't heard of this." Pectin growled. Oh, well. "What! They told us that you'd been fully briefed on this. Somebody's head is definitely going to roll over this." She put enough anger in her voice, to hopefully distract him from the fact that two minutes ago, she'd had no clue who he was. "Hmm." Pectin looked thoughtfully at her. Emma met his gaze without flinching. "Very well, memo's get lost all the time. I'm sure there's no reason to make a big deal over this." Haven't been reading your memo's, eh? "I don't suppose you know where the cleaning staff has got to?" "My information is a bit shaky, but I believe they're currently hiding in a church. Something about a tax shelter." The thought of his cleaning crew using a tax shelter, made Pectin's blood boil. This, Emma decided, should make for a warm welcome, but it could be improved on. "The cleaning staff are unimportant at the moment, I'm sure they'll be back. Our investigations have uncovered some businesses with dubious tax claims." Emma picked up a handy SnixCo catalogue. "This is the catalogue of one of them. The other business belongs to a Madame Kiki." She handed him the address "Your office has been selected to do a full audit of them." "Of course." Pectin told her, almost snapping to attention. "Um, there is one minor problem." "Yes." "With the cleaning staff not doing it's job, we've, um..." "Ah, I see." Seeing no need to embarrass the man further, Emma picked up some more SnixCo catalogues. "Watch out for the staples." The End. --- Emma (egl@operamail.com) Vaquera * T+VPack * DP heretic * War 9 Vet. "You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought." -- Star Wars http://members.tripod.com/lostshadows/main.html From - Thu Aug 19 18:42:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HVSs-00045a-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 12:54:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6129; Thu, 19 Aug 99 12:46:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8054; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 12:46:36 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:49:48 +0300 Reply-To: dce@dlc.fi Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: dce Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Red Alert! All Shileds Up! (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5495c27797a98ad4c2c8190912075103 WAR: Ravenettes: Red Alert! All Shileds Up! (2/2) by Alexander J. Braun and Kimberly Time: Sunday morning 15/08/99 Place: The Raven Waking up from a good nights sleep helped get over the lingering affects of the party and drinking wine with Miklos. After getting dressed I started looking around in the club to see what was happening. Kimberly rushed up to me. "Alex make yourself scarce fast!" "Why?" "You don't want to be seen by Janette", Kimberly replied. "You're not making sense, was there something I did?" "No, it's something with Janette", Kimberly said with a lowered voice. "What, she's ticked being mortal? I understand that." "No it's more than that, much more, 1100 years worth more." Looking even more puzzled. "A little more clarity please." Kimberly looked me straight in my eye and said, "Think PMS." After a moments thought my eye opened wider at the implications. "I'll barricade myself in my room straight away and do some net surfing on my laptop, see if I can find anything about Galen's cube." "Very wise Alex. I'll let you know when it's safe to come out." Walking back quickly to my room I thought with Janette won't be safe till the end of the War; this would even make LaCroix take a vacation to anywhere but here. Janette stared and stared at her broken fingernail. Now that she was mortal, they didn't just grow back out all that quickly. Janette had practically been in tears over it. She knew it was ridiculous, this obsession over little annoyances. And it was the little ones that she found most annoying. Here she was, dealing with one of the largest challenges she had ever faced throughout the ages, and she seemed to have no control over her emotions. Something was wrong with her, beyond this "mortal" dilemma. Kimberly hesitated at the door for a moment and then, gathering her courage, knocked softly. "Who is it?" Janette inquired, practically shrieking. Kimberly knew that anxiety level she was hearing in Janette's voice. All too well. "It's Kimberly. I am back from visiting Michelle. She said she can get you in today at 3:00 p.m." Michelle owned the trendiest nail salon in all of Toronto, and did not work on Sundays. But there are always exceptions to the rule. The door flew open and Janette grabbed Kimberly's arm and pushed her into the room as she flung the door shut so fast and so hard you would have to be klewless to even think about coming into Janette's private lair at the moment. Kimberly sat down on the edge of the bed quickly. Her knees were knocking. She hoped she was the only one who could hear them. This conversation had to take place. Kimberly had to get it all out in the open. "Janette, please, um, we need to talk about something. You know, girl talk. Important girl talk." Janette glared at her liasion. Now the Ravenettes were annoying her, too. "What! What is it now?"!!! Kimberly swallowed hard and just dove in. "Well, I know you are mortal now and not liking it. I don't blame you at all. But, as a woman, well, I think that perhaps you are not just stressing over your new-found mortality. I think you may be experiencing what we call today 'PMS', which is short for pre-menstrual syndrome". Janette waved her hand with the perfect set of nails in the air distractedly. "Yes, yes, Kimberly, I always keep up with the latest trends in medicine throughout the ages. I know about this 'PMS' you speak of. I do remember--" Janette broke off, suddenly silent and lost in a trail of thought that went back centuries. She put her hand to her head. She was constantly having headaches now, too. Janette remembered the horrors of the past. The things that happened to women in the old days. The way a man could put his wife in a sanitarium -- or worse -- because of "female hysteria". She remembered the years past when women were thought to be insane or witches because of female hormonal imbalances and changes and the behavioral differences they brought. Janette shivered and brought herself to the present. Janette had no misplaced nostalgia for the old days. None whatsoever. She smiled at Kimberly, putting the Ravenette leader more at ease. Janette had such a breathtakingly radiant smile. It had been in short supply recently, too. "Well, then, what do you modern women do? How do you deal with these hormonal changes?". Kimberly was so very happy they were having this talk! "Well, first of all, you have to be aware of them -- which you are, so this is a good thing! We have herbal remedies and drug remedies both now. Time, Claudia, Teresa and Julia are in the kitchen right now working on some herbal remedies and making you some tea. Teresa has a great book on the subject, if you would like to look at. I brought you a few pills to try. And chocolate. Most women respond to chocolate. Makes the "feel good" endorphins in the brain kick in. Science has only recently discovered that about chocolate. Something us girls have known for years!" Janette thought back to the little break she took over at Nick's loft the other night. Natalie had made her three cups of hot chocolate. She had to admit, despite Nick bringing up that "Galen's Cube" myth, that she had indeed felt better after drinking the hot chocolate. Kimberly handed Janette a glass of water and a couple of high-quality Godiva (tm) candy bars. She also had three Pamprin (tm) pills to give Janette. Janette accepted the pills and took them quickly. She seemed very pleased with the candy bar choices Kimberly had made for her. Janette was soon feeling the effects from the Pamprin (tm) kicking in -- and a whole entire Godiva (tm) candy bar she had wolfed down. Janette and Kimberly went to the kitchen and joined the Ravenettes that were there. Claudia and Time had just gotten back from a natural foods store, with bee pollen and vitamin B in hand. Teresa had the kitchen turned into a chinese apothecary, and she was working very hard on a couple of things to try. Julia was making green tea, and the fragrance was clean and fresh and different for the Raven kitchen. Teresa lighted some aromatherapy candles and incense sticks. Julia gathered some chairs, and before anyone knew it, several hours had passed, the Ravenette women getting to know each other much better, each sharing some stories of difficult times dealing with life as a woman. Somehow, as the time passed, they were able to see the humor in things. The atmosphere grew very relaxed, and so did Janette. Kimberly stood up, regretting the lateness of the hour. They were actually having fun! "C'mon, let's go see Michelle about that nail! You know, Janette, in addition to having the most darling nail salon in all of Toronto, there is a Hagen Daaz (tm) right next door......." Janette had a very large entourage, after Kimberly mentioned the Hagen Daaz (tm). Manicures and ice cream for everyone! end -- Claude *NA**NatPacker**N&NPacker**HB* http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/index.html From - Thu Aug 19 18:42:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HVeE-0005qd-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 13:06:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8063; Thu, 19 Aug 99 13:01:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0435; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 13:01:28 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 10:02:44 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: A Delectable Repast To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6b0ff9c8dbc8271ea1b42ff22c2c72b2 WAR: UF: A Delectable Repast By: Amie LaRouche, Lauren Hawes, Les GS, and Julia Kocich Setting: The kitchen of the Hive, UF HQ Time: Tuesday noonish, August 17th "There!" Amie said, putting down her pen with a satisfied air. She tilted her chair away from the big oak table. Her ferret, Sasha, danced sideways away from her moving feet, then darted back to send some unnamed object skittering across the floor. "That's the very last dish. Oh," she breathed, gazing lovingly upon the list which sketched out her potential masterpiece, "I hope Nick accepts the invitation." Turning, Amie saw Les holding the lid of a huge, bubbling soup-pot, inhaling deeply. Les glanced at the slightly disheveled cook, but was inexorably drawn back to the contents of the pot. "I don't know what's in here," she said slowly, "but it smells ... complex and wonderful. What is it?" "Well ... it's for us. Tonight. It's just the stock. Smells good, doesn't it?" Les replaced the lid, but looked puzzled by it all. "It smells... like soup, I guess. I've read about people making ... soup." Before Amie could answer, she added, "Look, are you sure you're up to this? You know, cooking an authentic medieval dinner for ... Nick? At the ... Loft? With ... Knighties? Many of them aren't thrilled by the UF premise, though there is nothing to it, at its roots, that is antithetical to Knightieness, per se." Les could see she was losing her audience. "Besides, the last time the UF prepared food at the Loft, it involved Jello, Ribena and a bath tub." Amie blanched at the mention of Jello, then drew a deep breath. "Les, I *have* to know if I've interpreted the spices correctly ... adjusted the ingredients ... if it's ... *right.*" She exhaled slowly and continued in a soft tone. "And with Nick mor--" the red- haired chef couldn't quite bring herself to say the word, "...I mean ... it's the only chance I'll ever have." "OK, Amie, if you say so." Les could only respect her quest for authenticity. She turned at the sound of claws clicking on the kitchen tile. "Hey, Tyb," she greeted, as Laurey's Schipperke trotted by, searching for crumbs to hoover. His short tail wagged in response, then his eyes fell on the ferret under the table. Amie quickly scooped up her diminutive pet. "No, Tyb, not a toy. Here, take this." With her toe, she knocked Sasha's unnamed plaything toward the curious dog, who pounced on it. Then Amie went on, tone bright, "Besides, Lauren's offered to help. She's going to make a special pie. Julia's researching the history of wines and fermented drinks. Laurey, Susan and Megan will help. And 'Chele is going to do her clean-up zen and serve as bottle-washer. We'll shop for the ingredients on Friday, cook all day Saturday and Sunday, and then ... we feast." Wandering over to peer into a large crock sitting on the counter, Les poked inquisitively at its contents, pale-gold half-globes floating in liquid. "Do I dare to ... ?" "Honeyed peaches: honey, a little white wine, fresh ginger -- try one." Les chased slippery peach halves with a fork. Finally skewering one, she bit into it, dribbling honey down her chin. "Mmmm," she mumbled around a mouthful of fruit, "Not bad." She devoured the remains of the peach and wiped the dribbled honey from her chin, licking her fingers. Amie smiled. "Well, this is the Hive after all -- honey has to feature prominently!" Amie returned to the table and gazed fondly at her small, food-stained notebook. "Now, do we have any calligraphers around here?" "Yah," Les replied stickily, "I know just the woman for the job." She gratefully left the alien territory of the kitchen, target firmly in mind, stepping around Tyb who was sniffing after something under the stove. Several hours later, after much protest, Shan was forced to produce, in lovely cursive script on fine parchment, the word "pecake." Along with a number of other oddly spelled words. This is what she wrote: The Forme of the Feast shall Be: First Course: Roast Pork with Cormarye sauce A Dysche of Caboges Tart of Spynoch Wardonys in Syrup The first Soteltye: Starrey-gazey pie Second Course: Rosee of Hennys Ryse of Fische Daye Mushroom tartlets A Flaune of Almayne The second Soteltye: A Gylded Pecake Third Course: Caudle of Almond Mylk Roste pecake Frumenty Pickle for the Mallard Honeyed Peaches Sweetes: Marchpane Spanish Marmalade Gyngerbrede Quince paste Chocolate eclairs Double Diablo Drinks: Small ale Mead Wine Apple cider "Yipes," exclaimed Julia, when Les showed her the impressive menu. "You do know that the Knighties haven't exactly been starving Nick this week. I'm sure he'll enjoy this meal, but ... we don't want this event to turn into a different form of ... "attack," now, do we?" Julia and Les looked at one another. Without a word, Les went to her laptop to research medieval digestive aids and curatives online. Meanwhile, with the menu complete, the other UFfers had only to find Caboge, Wardonys and Pecakes in the marketplaces of Toronto... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (The menu, with additional descriptions of the dishes, can be found at: http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann/unnamedmenu.html We can't invite everyone to the feast, but at least you can see what you're missing. ) From - Thu Aug 19 18:42:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HVmA-0006Ck-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 13:14:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6419; Thu, 19 Aug 99 13:12:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1987; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 13:12:41 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 13:13:10 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War:Cousins:Enforcers en force 2/? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 21ebd41a3c08a2ab3b4578fe2e628c1e Cousins: Enforcers en force 2/? McLisa "Wait a minute," said Chang, who was the thinker of the group. "Why are we walking?" "Because McLisa can't fly." Grisha replied. "She's a mortal, remember?" McLisa hastily interjected "and wants to stay that way, thank you all the same." "Well, I'm going to fly!!" With that Jean-Pierre rocketed upward. Before McLisa could intervene, she was swept up piggy-back onto Billy-Bob's shoulders and the Wild Hunt took off. She was trying to scream, "no, stop it you'll get us seen and photographed empiric evidence!!" when something went thunk and everything went black. She opened her eyes and closed them again at once.. Standing over her were, in no particular order: a moose on two legs; Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, the latter all well over the height requirement and with Dopy's hat still bearing the "special half-price" tag; Barney (hey, Barney always appears somewhere it's a tradtion dating back to the very first war); a Klingon; and a gorilla. All wore radioactively pink, somewhat raggedly torn, cloaks. McLisa always maintained, even after the war was over and LaCroix had whammied her, that the cloaks bore the responsibility for the next development. Some colors were not meant for the human eye, so McLisa ceased to be human, at least in her own mind. The chips in the side of the brick building behind the bench on which she had been thoughtfully laid out for a nap after the airbourne collision had no bearing on the case. "Meow!! Sssss --- rr'ow!!" remarked McLisa, arching her back and taking swipes at Barney's tail before she stood all the way up. "Did anybody get the number of that starship?" Yes, folks, another crack on the head had left McLisa convinced that she was a cat. "And why the cloaks?" Chang shook his head. "You been getting to much catnip, McLisa?" He was used to her swearing in Siamese. It had been a frequent occurrence in New Jersey. Cat, especially Siamese, is so much more expressive than any human language when it comes to imprecations. "It's a recognition signal, of course." "In case one of us gets lost in the crowd," added Barney in Grisha's voice. From - Thu Aug 19 18:42:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HXiX-00050n-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 15:19:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9486; Thu, 19 Aug 99 15:16:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1656; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 15:16:07 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 15:17:39 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: WAR: ENFORCERS: Yummy, Yummy, Yummy. (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b46123393a08185d6e8b8096331008aa Written By: Enid Rodriguez (Supply Lieutenant of The Enforcers) Time: 3:00pm, Thursday, 08/19/99. Place: Enforcer Headquarters, the main conference room. Evil Enforcers Jen, Kim and our leader the man in black used with permission. Jen propped her feet up on the table and chuckled. Not even a week in this war and they had managed to dye Vachon's chest hair, shave Sydney, and most recently give Janette a disco queen makeover. Jen's clunky platforms made squeaking noise on the main table. Enid pushed her cat-eye sunglasses to the tip of her nose. "Would you stop that?" she asked, slightly annoyed. "Make me." Jen said flatly, crossing her arms tightly against her chest. Enid then removed her sunglasses , "How about I show you what I'm wearing to the Harem party." Jen perked up, "Your gonna go? After everything we did?" "Why not?" Kim said appearing in the doorway. "I want to see if Vachon still has cotton candy on his chest." Enid and Jen grinned, welcoming in their fellow enforcer. "Even if he doesn't, it's gonna take a while to clean up his bike." Jen added with a laugh. Enid reached over and tugged on Jen's shirt, "Janette probably going to get a rash from that cheap polyester outfit we put on her." By now the three enforcers were cracking up, but there laughter was quickly silenced by a strange noise. *Grrrrrr* "What was that?" Kim asked Enid pouted a bit, and rubbed her tummy. "I'm starved." Kim and Jen looked at each and laughed. "Let's go get a bite to eat." Kim suggested. Enid licked her lips, "Ya know what I could really go for right now.." She began to say. "Hot wings?" Jen asked "Eggroll?" Kim asked. "Apple pie a la mode?" a deeper fourth voice came out of no where. It was the man in black. He had been sitting in the corner, listening to them the whole time. Even as a mortal, he could be downright creepy. A smile curled Enid' s lips "That's right, Sir. How did you know?" The man in black stood up and adjusted his black suit. "Because my dear, I was craving the same thing." He purred. Enid glanced over at Jen, and then at Kim. "Let's go ladies, kidnapping always gives me a huge appetite." The man in black said with an evil half smile. From - Thu Aug 19 18:42:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HYII-00063L-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 15:56:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9796; Thu, 19 Aug 99 15:53:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5854; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 15:53:55 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 14:55:27 CDT Reply-To: Cousin Erik Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Erik Subject: WAR: NA: Of Pink And Men (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4bd18a1434b56f1a0e1e973a217a0b62 Of Pink And Men (1/1) By: Cousin Erik Time: Thursday, August 19, 1999, starting around 10AM Place: The Evil Pink Bathroom Notes: Christy and KC used with permission. Harvey used because I created him. Fanfic faires used as a result of strenuous union negotiations. --- --- The last time he'd stood on this threshold, he was being dragged across it. Now he was here again, and it was payback time. The bathroom waited on the other side of the door. Erik shuddered involuntarily at the memory of being trapped inside. He'd never been able to discover which unscrupulous demon the Vaqs had bribed into providing them with paint in that most unholy of colors -- a color so powerful that no one dares speak its true name, but refer to only as "Evil Pink." But it didn't really matter *who* had done it -- he was going to undo it. Even if it destroyed him in the process. To that end, he'd made an extended trip to Harvey's Discount Hardware. Harvey had a knack for mixing up exotic paint colors. The two experimented for quite some time before finally creating a color which they dubbed "Jeweled Peach" in honor of the NA restaurant. It was a mixture of a very Evil-looking peach paint speckled with oodles of shiny pretty silver glitter. Erik purchased several gallons of the stuff along with paintbrushes and a spray gun, gloves, coveralls, dust masks, several mirrors, and a customizable shower curtain. He also arranged to have the now-unionized Fanfic Fairies deliver to him several pairs of Snixco's Lime-Tinted Goggles (patent pending) for the thoroughly unreasonable price of his one-and-only mask. (Luckily, he had several "one-and-only masks", just in case.) Now, properly attired so that as little skin was exposed to the ghastly color as possible, he slowly pushed open the door. It was as he remembered it, exactly as it had been when it had been etched into his brain two wars ago. But not for long. With the lime-tinted shades protecting his vision, he got his spray gun ready and started on the back wall, spraying the Jeweled Peach mixture over the Evil Pink paint. There was an instant difference. It was... well, it was hideous. The peach did not completely erase the Evil Pink's influence, so now there was a sort of peachy-pinky-peuce kind of shade. Clearly it would require multiple coats. But, it being August, Erik hadn't brought so much as one coat, so he decided he'd just wait until it dried and then paint over it again. The spray gun worked fabulously, and in a scant couple of hours, all four walls had been done. Erik turned his attention to the sink, bathtub, and toilet, giving them all a once-over with the JP concoction. Finally, the floor was sprayed, starting from the back of the room -- Erik had no intention of being painted into a corner and being forced to watch the paint dry. The first coat done, Erik retired to the kitchen for lunch. There were still some leftovers from the dinner last night, and he munched on those, carefully avoiding the ones marked "Nunkies touched this! Do not eat upon pain of death!" He watched the other Addicts scurrying about also sprucing up the Church in an attempt to make it feel less Vaq-ish. The second coating went even faster than the first. Erik had finally gotten the hang of the spray gun, and the second application completely obliterated the Evil Pink torture room. By the end of the second coat, Erik didn't even need his lime-tinted goggles. He stood at the doorway and admired his handiwork, only momentarily hypnotized by all the shiny pretty glitter sparkling all over the room. Almost done, he decided to take a short nap until he could add the finishing touches. --- --- Erik was shaken awake from a dream of... well, the dream's not important (nor appropriate for a PG-13 list). His eyes opened and focused on the woman standing over him. "Erik, did you let KC help you with the bathroom?" Christy was asking, although she had to ask it three times before the words actually penetrated Erik's still-slumbering mind. "No... why?" "Because I think she helped herself. You... might want to come see." --- --- The Kissing Cousin had outdone herself, if such a thing were possible. Every wall of the now Jeweled Peach Bathroom had the words "KC is the goddess!" etched on them at least once. The soap tray in the shower revealed a bottle of Snixco's Mango Body Wash, Vampire Formula ("Just because you're dead, you don't have to *smell* like it!"), with several more refills in the medicine cabinet. An already-growing Chia-Nunkies smiled ominously from the back of the toilet. The towels on the towel rack also sported that visage, along with the caption, "Yours. But only because *I* give it to you." "Oh dear," Erik groaned. But that was mainly for show. Inwardly, he was actually kinda impressed. Well, he decided, there were only two things left to do... hang the extremely shiny pretty mirrors on all the walls and customize the shower curtain with tons of pictures of Nunkies downloaded from the NA website. Christy helped Erik with that part -- although she kept swooning at the thought of dozens of Nunkies-eyes staring at her in the shower. At long last, the two stood in the center of the JPB and smiled. It was actually starting to feel a little like home. --- End --- _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Thu Aug 19 18:42:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HZJJ-0005Ug-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 17:01:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2475; Thu, 19 Aug 99 16:49:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3150; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 16:49:28 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 13:51:20 -0700 Reply-To: Liz the Lucky Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Liz the Lucky Subject: WAR: Nothers: A Nother Fine Mess To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e246359f9a5ea26828f2d8204865d379 Title: A Nother Fine Mess Time: Starting Wednesday, August 18, immediately after A Nother Great Idea ;-), and continuing through Thursday, August 19th Where: Le Chateau Des Autres, various places. Written By: Liz the Lucky and Fleurette. All people used by permission. A Nother Fine Mess Le Chateau des Autres, Main Lobby: "Okay, now that we're all here, what are we doing?" Kat asked. "Fleurette wants us to meet in the War Room," Liz said. "And that is?" Elladara asked. "Beats me," Liz shrugged. Everyone looked at NightDancer. She was the co-founder after all. If anyone would know, she would. "We _have_ a War room?" NightDancer responded, dashing their hopes completely. "We could ask Harry," Liz suggested. "Fleurette said he's the one that came up with it, after all." "Harry's not here," Jeanne piped up. "He's not?" Kat asked. "My daughter thought he needed a day off after Monday night." Jeanne explained. "Bummer," Liz sighed. "I suppose we could find it the hard way." "The hard way?" echoed Elladara. "You mean...?" "Search for it," supplied Liz. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@ The Stables: Five hours later, the five stumbled into the stables. For the sixth time. Jeanne was beginning to wonder if this wasn't on purpose. "What? Us?" Liz and Kat answered when she asked. "Just because it's our favorite part of the Chateau," Liz continued. Right," Jeanne said. "and I like _horses_ as much as the rest of you, but shouldn't we get looking for the War Room?" The Nothers suddenly realized where Fleurette got her knack for sarcasm. "We're trying to find the War Room just as much as the rest of you," Kat explained. "Why doesn't Jeanne lead this time, then?" Elladara suggested. "We might have better luck." The others agreed, although they grumbled as they followed Fleurette's mom away from the stables. Daf waved cheerily at them, calling out, "Good luck, ladies!" Kat sighed as they left. "I love when he gets all sweaty like that." Smiling, she waved back at him. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@ The Towers: "I don't think this is it," Nightdancer commented, looking over the Chateau grounds. "I think I prefer the stables," Liz said, standing in the center of the tower, along with Kat, and doing her best to _not_ look. "Let's try someplace else," suggested Elladara. "Liz looks like she's gonna faint." "Next!" Kat agreed. The five set off again, this time with Nightdancer in the lead. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@ The Wine Cellar: Elladara dusted off a bottle and looked at it. "Chateau Rothschilde, 1973," she read off. "Is that good or bad?" "I don't know," NightDancer replied. "I don't drink." Liz and Kat were busy looking at a mysterious-looking portal. "Think they miss us?" Liz asked. "Oh, no you don't!" NightDancer exclaimed. "What?" the cybertwins exclaimed. "No crossovers, remember? You can't even _touch_ that door in this war!" Liz stuck her tongue out at Nightdancer. "PFTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Trying to make me catch it?" Kat teased. "And no doing that, either," Nightdancer snapped. "You're no fun!" Liz grumbled. "Let's get out of here," Kat agreed. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@ The Kitchen: "Uh uh, I'm not going in there!" Kat said. "Why not?" Jeanne asked. "It's the kitchen," Liz answered. "What's so scary about the kitchen?" asked Elladara. "Andre!" Liz, Kat & NightDancer said as one. "What's so bad about Andre?" And evil grin appeared on Liz' face. "Why don't you go in and find out yourself?" she suggested. Five minutes later, Elladara was back, pale as a ghost. "You're right. It's not in the kitchen." "Okay, we've searched the Chateau, what's left?" Nightdancer asked. "Should we split up, like they do on Scooby Doo?" Jeanne suggested. Liz and Kat smiled at each other. "That's it!" Kat said. "Makes perfect sense," Liz agreed. "What!?" the others ask, not quite following the two brain-sibs. "The Library!" the two answered. "The secret room's always in the library on Scooby," Liz explained. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@ The Library: The five headed for the Library. "Now what?" Jeanne asked. "Start pulling books off the shelf," Kat suggested. "One of them will be the trigger." The five split up in different directions, each one pulling volumes of books off the shelves. "This is an eclectic collection," NightDancer commented, taking a book from the shelf nearest her. "Look! _Pride and Prejudice_ right next to Stephen King's _IT_." "_Dracula_ next to _Charlotte's Web_," Elladara added. "Anyone need a doctor?" Jeanne asked the group. "I've got Dr. Suess right next to Dr. Ruth." "_The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes_ and, ooh, hey look. _A Catalog of Special Plane Curves by J. Dennis Lawrence," Kat read off. "Liz, isn't that your Dad?" "Yup," Liz said proudly. "And I just found _The Lustful Turk._" "You would," Kat teased. Liz tossed it on the pile, making careful note of where it landed. "You know," Jeanne said suddenly. "Maybe we should be thinking like Fleurette." "What do you mean, 'like Fleurette'?" NightDancer asked. She didn't _want_ to think like her fully-corrupted friend. "Well, " Jeanne continued. "She likes old, thick books. Classics." "You mean like this?" Elladara pulled out _War and Peace_. Sure enough, one of the bookcases obediently swung open. "It's about _time_ you got here!" Fleurette exclaimed. THE END Hugs and Kisses, Liz the Lucky FoD Merc luckyliz@mindspring.com Nanette Nother http://www.mindspring.com/~luckyliz From - Thu Aug 19 18:42:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HZua-0006sa-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 17:39:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0756; Thu, 19 Aug 99 17:37:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8576; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 17:37:43 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 17:39:23 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? (04/04) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5cb58ecb1af3ccb8f78146896c9481c7 WAR: NA: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? (04/04) by Bons, Patt and Jules Time: About 10 p.m. - 12 midnight, August 18-19, 1999 Where: The Church All present - including the peas - used with permission ****************** "More venison?" Caren asked down the table, catching LaCroix's eyes. The dark-haired addict smiled demurely when LaCroix nodded in consent. "It has a most agreeable flavor," Nunkies said, accepting the platter. "Rather gamey, not unlike prey hunted on a cold winter night." Several addicts looked ready to swoon. "Vamp or no vamp," Caren grinned at Supaige. "He's still got it." *************************** "May I ask a question?" Supaige asked. "Of course," LaCroix replied graciously. "It's kind of a reporter-type question. Kind of personal and nosy." Supaige prefaced, turning red as soon as the words were out. The corners of Nunkies' mouth twitched. Jules and Annie both paled, while Bonnie sat forward, as if to take notes. "Continue, Susan." For once, Supaige wish she hadn't given up margueritas. She needed some liquid courage about now, and this white wine just wasn't doing the trick. "Susan?" "Errr . . ." Better to just blurt it out and be done with it. "What's it like to eat . . . after almost 2000 years?" Jules and Annie visably relaxed and Bonnie sat back, looking bored. "It feels . . ." LaCroix began, the addicts hanging on his words. "It feels rather--bloating." He glanced meaningfully at Bons, who reddened. "As though one had too much gas inside." ************************** It had to happen. At least once during the supper, one of the addicts slipped and allowed a pea to escape her plate. The green ball rolled across the tablecloth and came to a stop in front of Nunkies. LaCroix regarded the veggie with interest, then he looked up at the crowd of addict faces. "Does anyone claim this legume?" Jesse stood up, trying to look bashful and abashed at the same time, but on the teenager the effort made her appear impish. LaCroix gave the young addict an *tsk tsk* look, then picked up the pea, placed it in his spoon and launched it at Jesse. At least seventeen spoons were snatched up, ready for battle. Jules stood up immediately and glared at the group. "Put down the weapons!" she cried. "There will be NO food fight. None. Nada. Zilch." "Spoil sport," LaCroix murmured under his breath. "If you want a food fight, invite them to your place," Jules replied, seating herself primly and replacing her napkin on her lap. "This is my party and I'll allow no pea tossing." "Jules is right," LaCroix conceded, nodding that the addicts should comply with the HP's wishes. Spoons were returned to their places beside plates, with only a soft current of grumbling. Once all was subdued again, he leaned over and stage whispered something to Jules about peas, princesses and mattresses, causing the auburn-haired woman's cheeks to turn crimson. Looking quite pleased with himself, LaCroix took a sip of the port and smiled at Jules. "Exquisite vintage, my dear. If it were blood, it would be Mozart." Jules basked in the praise. "Why, thank you, Snook...er, Nunkies. More?" But, LaCroix's attitude had changed, his eyes far away. "What is it?" Jules was suddenly concerned. "I . . . I sense something," LaCroix replied. All addict chatter at the table stopped abruptly. They turned and stared at Nunkies. "Are you . . .? Is your power . . .?" Jules couldn't quite finish the sentences, her heart was racing so fast with excitement. "Has my vampiric state returned?" LaCroix finished the thought for her. "No." He drained the wine in one swallow as emphasis, resulting in a collective sad sigh from the addicts. "I'm still quite human. But . . ." He turned around in his chair, his eyes searching the darkness, "I have this odd feeling that someone is watching us." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Patt held her breath as LaCroix's eyes scanned the room. She could almost feel the ice blue beacons searching her out. The Third Cousin shrank back into the darkness and waited. Something jabbed her leg. It felt cold and fleshy. Patt yelped involuntarily. The mature addict looked down, allowing her eyes to adjust to the new darkness. Tiny, bright brown orbs met hers, the expression one of puzzled greeting. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "What was that?" Caren whispered, her green eyes widening. "Was it a rat?" "Most assuredly," LaCroix replied. "But not of the rodent variety." He rose gracefully and turned to the addicts. "I shall go see to our intruder. You, ladies and gentleman, remain here." "You don't want at least one of us to come with you?" Jules asked, touching his hand. LaCroix gave the HP a gentle smile. "I assure you, Jules, that even in my current diminished physical capacity, I can handle certain things quite efficiently by myself. And I believe this situation requires my personal. . . touch." End 04/04 ********************* KnightGaol@aol.com From - Thu Aug 19 18:42:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Haia-0003uH-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 18:31:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1060; Thu, 19 Aug 99 18:29:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2996; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 18:29:16 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 18:30:15 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Dear Harold's Wife (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 10593546d237ea3ae1d7c7b155743134 Title: Cousins LCL: Dear Harold's Wife (1/1) Date: Wednesday, August 18, 1999 Time: Around 2pm By: Arletta Asbury Brandi stopped her car in front of the old stone building (and former monastery) that was to be the headquarters of the Light Cousins. She was very happy that Arletta was entrusting her to conduct the next interview in their quest to hire a tour guide. She could see a nicely dressed middle-aged lady already waiting for her on the steps outside the building. The lady waved a greeting as Brandi walked towards her. "Mrs. Smith?" Brandi asked. "Is this the right place? I get so lost nowadays. Don't you think the street signs are confusing around here. Not that I ever let that stop me. But dear Harold, my late husband and I used to go sightseeing just for the fun of it. It's too bad my niece never seems to have the time to do that. She's always working. Work, work, work. That's all she seems to do. I say you can't spend all you life just working. A body needs a little fun sometimes. But then at least she has a job. My nephew Josh can't seem to find work. Oh he looks and looks but he can't seem to find any thing that's just right for him. My that's a pretty dress you're wearing." When she paused momentarily, Brandi jumped in with, "The monastery is..." "Not that my sister and I were ever fuss budgets about clothes. But I do think that it's important. Of course Harold never complained. He always approved of how I looked no matter what I wore. I do think that's so important in a husband. My sister wasn't so lucky. Her husband campaigned so much about everything that I think that's why she had her nervous breakdown. Of course it was lucky in a way. While she was at that hospital they did find out about her gall bladder. That it was bad, I mean. Not the hospital. Her gall bladder was bad. The hospital took good care of her. And her surgery went well. Of course she never talks about it. You know it's funny most people talk about their operations but not my sister. She never does. Oh well, truth be told I suppose she has mentioned it a little. But not like most folks. All they ever seem to want to talk about is their latest operations but not my sister. She barely mentions hers." Brandi began edging away as the woman prattled on, "Of course my sister isn't just anybody. At least to me. You couldn't ask for a nicer sister. No. You couldn't. She'd give you the shirt off her back so to speak. But that husband of hers is such a tightwad with his money. Not like dear Harold, of course. NO. NO NO! My dear Harold was just the opposite. He was..." At this point Brandi had heard enough about dear Harold. She ran to her car, jumped in, and sped back to the safety of CERK. From - Thu Aug 19 19:23:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HbQo-0006tb-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:17:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9622; Thu, 19 Aug 99 19:14:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6827; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:14:43 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 18:10:54 -0500 Reply-To: Lisa Luksus Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: CUZ: Storming the Castle To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0054f342646ba81c42ab84dac7e52b9e Storming the Castle by Cousin Tok Time: Dawn, Wednesday the 18th Immediately following "Velcome to Vetterburg!" Place: CERK, the Morgue The whammied Cousins wasted no time exchanging their clothing for the pink lederhosen and other 'polka-wear' so thoughtfully provided by the Perkslavanians who'd rescued them from the clutches of the mad Dr. Natenstein. Now it was their duty to their town and their mayor, Der Croit, to see that the mad doctor and her monster never did this to anyone else. "To the castle!" Tok ordered as the group prepared to march to the Morgue. (Everyone *knew* that was where the evil Dr. Natenstein had her laboratory.) By the time they reached the morgue, the mob of Vetterburgians was winded, but no less angry. "Light the torches!" yelled Tok. The security guard took one look at the crowd of pitchfork-and-torch wielding, pink lederhosen-clad people entering the building and decided discretion was the better part of valor. He dove under the desk, phone in hand, to call the police. The mob stormed into the lab. "Vhere is Dr Natenstein?" demanded Shelley, brandishing a pitchfork at the nearest person in a lab coat. "Dr. Nat-- *Natenstein*?!" The lab worker exchanged a confused glance with a colleague. Were these more of Dr. Lambert's weird friends playing a joke? "She's, um, ... she's not here. She's gone home." "Don't give us zat nonsense," declared Maria. "Ve know she iz here," shouted Rhonda. "Vhere is she?" said Tok, waving her torch. "And vhere is zat monster of hers?" "Watch it! You can't have torches in here!" yelled the lab worker. "Don't you know that will set off ..." "... the sprinkler system?" ***** One of the GSS agents ventured out of their HQ in the lower levels of the building and into the lobby. Why were there piles of clothes on the floor? And where were the people who'd been wearing them? That cat t-shirt belonged to Cousin Tok. "Oh boy..." (to be continued) Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Thu Aug 19 19:23:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HbSS-0006uF-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:19:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1340; Thu, 19 Aug 99 19:14:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6730; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:14:20 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 18:13:26 -0500 Reply-To: Amy Reed Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Amy Reed Subject: War: Harem Couch Caper To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e920698c025d40578b0012f1e1d72a25 Title: Harem: Couch Caper By: Randora, Wife #1, Nick's Harem Date: Tuesday, August 17, 1999 Time: Around 5pm After: Harem: The Chase is on! Randora pulled the van up and parked behind a maroon pickup. From where she sat inside, she could see a lone peach pillow and inside the cab, the driver was speaking into a cell phone. "Randy! They left for the night!! The couch is STILL in the VAN!!!" Amethyst was saying. "Hurry!!!!!" "I'm hurrying," Randora said a soft chuckle in her voice. "Where are you now?" "Parked behind you, I think." "Wha..." Amethyst whipped around in her seat to stare at the van parked behind her. "You ... you," she sputtered. Randora burst out laughing, then apologized, "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist it." Amethyst let out a long-suffering sigh. Randora's sense of humor was famous. Randora got out of the minivan and walked over to the truck. As she did so, she said, "You know, I think we can hang up now." That suggestion earned her a dirty look from her second-in-command. Amethyst snapped her cell phone off and inquired, "How are we going to get the couch into my van? It's kinda heavy you know." Randora's eyes took on a wicked look before she said, "We'll borrow the van it's in." "We're going to steal their van?" Amethyst wasn't too thrilled with that idea. Taking Patt's truck was one thing, taking a stranger's van another. "Don't worry, we'll bring it back ... after we unload the couch. Nick would be upset if we were arrested for grand theft auto." Amethyst somberly nodded her head in agreement. "How are we going to do it?" she whispered. "We pop the lock and hot-wire it," Randora replied. "You know how to do that?" "Afraid so. Don't ask." They waited a short time until the cleaner's closed for the night. Amethyst wanted to use the time getting Patt's new pillows cleaned, until Randora reminded her they did not want to be seen in the area. She promised Amethyst that once they had the couch secured, the van returned and Patt's truck moved elsewhere, they would get the pillows cleaned. Once the street was deserted, Randora and Amethyst hurried over to the van. The peered inside and almost drooled at the sight of the beloved couch. Randora quickly went to work and soon had the door open. She then messed with some wires under the dash, and before long the van's engine started. Randora hopped in, closing the door behind her. Amethyst ran to her van and followed behind as Randora drove to Harem HQ. It had been decided that the fewer prints to worry about, the better. Once to their headquarters, they got some of the staff to unload the couch and take it inside. Then she and Amethyst drove back to where they had gotten the van. Randora parked it in almost the same spot, wiped everything down inside and out removing any fingerprints they might have left behind. She even wiped down the mirrors, readjusted them slightly to disguise her height, relocked the van and strolled over to where Amethyst was waiting. They drove Patt's truck several blocks away, locked it, and took off in the minivan. They returned to HHQ and had the pleasant task of finding the perfect spot for the couch. This turned out to be in an out-of-the-way area of the lobby in front of the fireplace. Randora put on a pair of gloves, got out an envelope and a generic pen. She then addressed the envelope as follows: Former Keepers of the Couch c/o CERK Radio Toronto Inside the envelope she put the Harem's calling card, a very thin piece of material, it was like the ones harem dancers use in the movies. Then on a blank piece of paper, she wrote one word, "Liberated!" The piece of paper was placed inside the envelope as well. She then removed the strip of backing from the envelope flap and pressed the flap closed. These self-sticking envelopes were great. There would be nothing to trace it back to the Harem. Satisfied with the day's work, they all headed for bed. The pillows would be taken and cleaned the next day. The envelope will be delivered in the morning. *FIN* YFITK, Amy Knightie; Dark Knightie; GWDFC Number-One-Wife & Listowner of Nick's Harem; B.R.I.C.K. Listowner: FK-XStitcher -- "Cross-Stitcher of the Knight" fknight@acnet.net fknight@cyberweb.org - TexDKnght (IRC) Forever Knight Web Site: http://forever-knight.virtualave.net My Football page: http://members.tripod.com/~ReedStuff/nfl From - Thu Aug 19 19:48:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hbsm-0000Er-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:46:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3662; Thu, 19 Aug 99 19:43:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9142; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:43:54 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:35:05 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Warm Hands, Cold Heart? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 28592e787b1a0d141a36aa704fb4b127 NA: Warm Hands, Cold Heart? By Patt Elmore When: Wednesday evening, Aug. 18, 1999 Where: Formal dining room of the Church hahh!! LaCroix appears with the permission of the Cousins All addicts mentioned with their permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~` With the stealth of a cougar, LaCroix rose from the table. The addicts watched breathlessly as he moved into the shadows. The General entered the darkness as if greeting an old friend. Yet, it was like a friend with whom he had lost touch, and now sought to reacquaint with. "I know you're hiding in the shadows," LaCroix called into the dimness. "Would you care to tell me why?" No one answered. LaCroix listened carefully, trying to catch the sound of breathing. He inhaled, trying to catch the scent of fear. He sensed nothing. A momentary tremor of self-disgust and loathing overtook LaCroix, but he pushed it away, going deeper into the void. "I will find you," the master ex-vampire intoned, his voice still deep, still potent. "It's just a matter of time. Show yourself, and let's end this nonsense." Out of sight of the seated addicts, he reached out tentatively, looking for solid matter to guide him. The corners of the discarded Church were dark indeed. LaCroix made a hesitant move forward, only to strike his foot against a heavy object hidden on the floor. "Ouch." It wasn't a loud ouch not one that could be heard by the others. Just a small communication of pain. Something small and throaty growled at the General. The hairs on the back of LaCroix's neck stood up as his vision adjusted and he caught sight of a small, but capable-looking, canine braced for defensiveness, straining to attack. LaCroix thought as he noted that the miniature dog's head was parallel to his waist. Nunkies' vision cleared further, and he noted that the small dog was being held in someone's arms. Someone whose expression hovered between bolting panic and contained mirth. Their eyes met, LaCroix holding the mature addict in his granite gaze. "You find my difficulty . . . amusing?" he asked softly, his voice matching his eyes. Patt shook her head, the action obscured by the shadows. Her answer did not satisfy LaCroix. "You find it entertaining that I 'stubbed my toe,' don't you?" he demanded harshly. "You, who pride yourself in the empathy of your chosen profession, are just like the others, finding hilarity in my unfortunate, and, I remind you, temporary situation. You think it's humorous to watch me blundering around in the darkness like any other mortal poor, old, blind man only fit to sell pencils on the street?" LaCroix advanced further toward the woman. "Physically challenged," Patt corrected, doing her best to hold onto a now wildly struggling MinPin. "And, blind people can do a lot more than sell pencils. Get your head out of the dark ages, for goodness sake." "I'm not good," LaCroix snarled, continuing his forward assault. "I wasn't good before I lost original mortality, and I'll be damned if I'll be good now. I have taken the abuses of my faction followers for more than a week, their jibing emboldened by my *temporary* affliction. Element or no element, I am *tired* of it." "You want to talk *tired*?" Patt yelled back. "Try five hours of sleep a night, trying to write, read, coach newbies, grant permissions, seek permissions, feed dogs, feed a mother, hold a steady job, placate anger and beg for world peace and then . . . maybe then you can claim to be tired." "You're forgetting IM and IRC requests," LaCroix reminded her dryly. Fred, stirred by his mistresses' outburst, began to struggle and whine furiously. LaCroix stood up straight, regarding the short woman. "So, that said . . . what's next? Revenge of the dog? Planning to strike at me while you can? Pummel me for that awful story about Raleigh, which I might say was historically altered to put Nicholas in a good light . . ." "So, that was the writer's fault ,too?" Patt challenged. "You did nothing wrong . . . just a poor victim?" "I," LaCroix leaned forward, his eyes hard, his voice harder, "am not a victim." "Everything okay in there?" Jules' voice called from beyond the shadows. "Dessert's getting cold." The General and the Third Cousin continued to star at each other, unsure of how to break the tense moment. Fred bawled and began thrusting against Patt's hold, trying to break free. The dog's very hard little head rotated in circles as he struggled, striking Patt's chin. She yelped, but did not drop the dog. LaCroix straightened again. "Jules is right . . . dinner is ruining while we stand here and debate inconsequential things," he intoned smoothly. Then LaCroix's voice grew cold. "Why are you late for supper?" "One cannot be late, if one wasn't invited in the first place," Patt shot back. She sniffed, trying to hold back the tears. One escaped, betraying her. "How *Mary* do you want to make this scene?" he questioned flatly. Patt didn't answer, choosing to just glare at the ex-vampire. "All right," LaCroix conceded, his voice terse. "Do you want to hear that you did an extraordinary job in your efforts as liaison with the GROUTers?" Patt nodded. "And, that your efforts to relocate Revenue Canada are greatly appreciated?" Patt continued to nod. "And, that you, at least, weren't foolish enough to turn over my Shrine to a deleterious faction hell-bent for leather." Patt positively beamed. "And, if it makes you feel even more secure, your name was brought up several times during the dinner conversation," LaCroix added. "If they missed me so much," Patt sniffed again, "how come they didn't come looking?" The General arched an eyebrow. "Would *you* have gone looking for a misplaced addict if *you* knew that *I* was coming to dine?" Patt hesitated. Fred, bewildered by his handler's pause, began licking her chin. "How come Bons didn't answer her beeper?" Patt challenged. "I can answer that!" a perky voice called from the lighted area. "I left the annoying thing with the Vaqueras!" LaCroix turned back to face Patt, giving the woman a vanquishing glare. "Satisfied as to your worth now?" "Almost . . ." Patt responded. She was silent a few minutes more, while LaCroix patiently waited. "Okay," she said finally. "I hope you left some of that venison." "Just a wee portion," LaCroix replied. Then smiling slightly, he admitted, "it *was* my favorite recipe." He almost appeared to be offering Patt his arm, but stopped and gave the mature addict a cursory look. "How long *have* you been missing?" "About two days," the Third Cousin replied. "Why?" "You smell . . . strong. Even to mortalized nostrils," LaCroix said. "I told you that either aliens or Vaqueras got her," KC cried out, her insight vindicated. "She did end up coated in something greasy and indescribable." "Jules is currently busy at the table, so why not catch a quick shower?" LaCroix suggested. "I promise to postpone further culinary activity until you are ready to join us." "Thanks." Patt was smiling now as she headed toward the one very tiny Church bathroom. "I had just about had enough of Au de Mule-Madre myself. I'll be hasty." And thus it was that, a short time later, a scrubbed Third Cousin joined her NA sisters and brother at the supper table, ready to enjoy the feast of Nunkies. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the end 01/01 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Thu Aug 19 20:18:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HcMU-0004vG-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:16:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3765; Thu, 19 Aug 99 20:14:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0678; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:14:42 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:13:49 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: FoD: Klew? The FoDs are Klewless with the Cube To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c25a4e2959d9a2cf70d843e369af665c War: FoD: Klew? The FoDs are Klewless with the Cube Time: Late Monday night/early tuesday morning Place: The Moose Lodge By: Cindy and Spifff, FoDs. All participants used with permission. This follows: "What's that behind the Jukebox?" ---------------------------- Cindy squinted at the clock on the mantle, 3 a.m.? She shook her head as she glanced around at the other FoD's gathered around the Moose Lodge's living room. Everyone was exhausted from the dual mammoth cleaning sessions at the Deli and Moose Lodge. They should have been falling over from exhaustion, but instead when the tough got tired the tough partied -- which they had been doing for the past four hours with no signs of slowing. A blur of color caught Cindy's attention as she turned to look in that direction. Spifff had turned a broom handle into a microphone and was standing in front of the fire place. Kathy was standing by the front door opposite Spifff wearing what appeared to be the mysterious necklace the FoD's had discovered earlier at the Deli. Swinging her shoulders, Kathy struted the length of the Deli bar pausing only to pose for Bev's pretend cameras at its end. "Come on. Work with me baby. Work with me." Clicking shutter noise, Bev was miming a fashion photographer's nighmare. Clearing her throat, Spifff crooned in her best announcer's voice,"And here we have Kathy, wearing this elegant space-pendant and matching silver chain. With it delicately highlighted against her dayglow purple rubber dive suit and beanie baby totebag, she's a stunner ready to hit the nightlife." "More like a strumpet if you ask me. Somehow I just don't think that's it." Removing the pendant from around Kathy's neck and taking hold of the rather grimy chain, Rav proceeded to jam part of it into the nearby electric socket Etchings on the cube twinkled under the Christmas lights above the lodge's bar but otherwise little happened. The FoDs stared at it. "Holiday decoration?"suggested Cindy. "No, no it's a wallpaper stamp," giggled Lori. "Hood ornament?"Ron suggested. "Guys, give it here. I know what it is," announced Spifff. The FoDs looked on expectantly. "Have some patience. Just a second," she continued as she headed over to the bar and turned on the blender. Ice crunched and green foam frothed. "Now all we need is a little salt ... and Voila," exclaimed Spifff lifting a lime green pitcher on to the counter. Kathy broke into a chorus of "Margarita, margarita, Margarita, margarita --- Hey Margarita," while Rav made accompanying hand motions. Cindy grabbed for the glasses. "Hold it! Hold it! First, la piece de resistance," said Spifff as she secured a bright pink paper umbrella decorated with little mooses, on to the side of the pitcher. Kathy ventured a closer look. A grubby silver chain wound around the pitcher's handle and the umbrella was firmly fixed to the cube-like pendant. "How ...," she began. "Crazy glue," Spifff answered. The FoDs stared at her. " Well it did arrive with the Kitchen Supplies ... ", shrugged Spifff. The FoDs swiftly moved in towards the margaritas. End From - Thu Aug 19 20:23:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HcR1-0001ZP-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:21:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3777; Thu, 19 Aug 99 20:18:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0793; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:18:00 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:24:25 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: Experience is a Terrible Thing to Waste To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5fd9d19ad8defa11d0604b931ac389e8 WAR: Independent/CGW: Experience is a Terrible Thing to Waste by Brenda Bell Follows: Pest Panic TIME: Monday afternoon, with flashbacks to Sunday evening. Sukh, Heather, Pen, and Brenda are real and are used by permission. Miguel, Consuela, and all the other Fiendish Glow staff and irregulars belong to the Fiendish Glow. ************** The Fiendish Glow, upstairs rooms, Monday 16 August, 1400 Eastern Daylight Time "Come on, stop dawdling!" an anxious Brenda nagged her fellow Glow Worms. "We've got to get down to the kitchens and start preparing for dinner." "At two in the afternoon?" the MacCousin yawned, reaching for the clotted cream. Between telling stories 'til dawn and checking on Chris's injury, she hadn't fallen asleep until mid-morning. "Restaurant cooking is not like cooking for your typical family of four," Brenda explained. "Some things have to be prepared in quantity hours or days in advance; other things have to be prepared individually as they are ordered. Everything must be fresh, hot foods hot, cold foods cold, and the customer should neither have to wait forever for anything nor be rushed through his meal. The first time you peel a fifty-pound bag of potatoes, you'll understand what I'm talking about." "Fifty pounds of potatoes?" Sukh asked, stunned. "Per bag," Pen told her. "We go through about a bag each week night, three to four bags each weekend night." "Tha's equivalent tae one hundrid dinners each weeknight and three tae four hundrid brunches an' dinners each weekend night," Heather added helpfully. "Nae counting those diners who order dishes wha' *dinna* come wi'= tatties..." "Omigoddess!" Sukh gasped, never having really had to run the economics of cooking for hordes of people. "Fortunately, we don't have to do *everything* while Miguel and Consuela are away -- just the main courses." "How'd ye evvir get into doing this, ennaway?" Chris asked them. *************FLASHBACK***************** Time: Sunday Afternoon, about 1430 Eastern Daylight Time Place: Security Control Room at The Fiendish Glow "We've got a bit of a problem here," Brenda addressed the assembled staff. "Rats appear to be multiplying in the city beyond all mathematical probability and biological possibility. They're growing bolder, too -- a lot like New York City's rat population." A few of the staff murmured agreement with the assessment. "While I don't think we've seen any *in* the Glow -- yet -- we've just discovered evidence of rodent damage in goods received from our suppliers." "Could this have something to do with the remortalized vamps?" one of the busboys asked. "I've heard rumors that because Screed isn't around to control the population, they're breeding out of control." ***** At this point in time, Pen and Brenda broke=20 * the proscenium long enough to remember that=20 * in "Blind Faith", Screed tells Nick that=20 * there's *one* other carouche in the city,=20 * who likes the park. This is the carouche that=20 * brought Perry across. He's known to be a meanie,=20 * a dog-chaser rather than a ratter. They also=20 * remember that based on the Screed scenes in=20 * "Black Buddah", it looks like Screed consumes=20 * no more than a dozen or so rats a night. With=20 * this information and the info they gathered on=20 * the Web, they repair the proscenium and return=20 * to the meeting. ***** "Statistics from various pest control specialists around the nation(1) imply that the normal rat to human population in large cities such as Toronto ranges from one to five to as high as one to one. Given Toronto's population of approximately 2.3 million people, that means approximately 450,000 to 2.3 million rats in the city and its environs. As far as we know, there are -- were, anyway -- only *two* carouches in Toronto. Only one of them -- Screed -- consumes rats. Empirical evidence suggests that Screed consumes approximately one dozen rats a night -- less than one one-hundredth of one percent of the smallest estimated rat population. In short, Screed's cessation of rat-slurping no palpable effect upon Toronto's rat population."=20 "Even if Screed was only one of several hundred rat-eating carouches, we wouldn't be seeing as large a swell in the rat population as is being reported, nor in this narrow a timespan," Pen added. "In short, the rodent problem has been around a lot longer than this War has been -- and it's not going to go away any time soon." "So, what do we plan to do about it?" Pen asked, rhetorically. "Glad you asked that, Pen. First, we double-check our own rat security -- repair any cracks in the walls and floorboards, replace old or worn floorboards, reseal the floors. Make sure no foods are left lying out for the rats to eat. Increase the frequency of haulers' visits to minimize the amount of trash sitting outside in the dumpster. That trash is food for= rats." "Without the vampires' sensitive hearing, I can -- at least for now -- add some ultrasonics to the background noise to discourage rats from coming or staying," Dennis volunteered. "We can help the neighbors clean up their homes and properties to further discourage rats from staying around," Siobhan added. "That would be good for public relations, too," Pen smiled.=20 "Any rat that still insists on coming must be eradicated with extreme prejudice," Brenda finished. "Traps, poison, baits, firearms... We have a business -- and a community -- to protect." "One problem with that," Pen broke in. "We got kids and *good* animals around," Brenda replied, remembering the couple of cats Miguel said hung around the place. "Another problem," Pen said. "Rats'll ignore th' bait if there's real food arund," Miguel noted. "We could put real food out for bait and poison it," Brenda suggested, hopefully. "Moas' effaictive rat poisons ur illegal in Ontario," someone else added. "Okay, so what options does that leave us?" the Glow Worms asked, bringing the random conversation to its conclusion. Daniel, Miguel, and Consuela looked at each other. "We'll handle it," they said. "Give us two days to get the parts, and we'll come back with a solution you can live with." Pen and Brenda gave each other "the look". It was a look they'd rehearsed before -- a look that *said* they were skeptical, but which *meant* that they'd entered the final stages of bargaining mode. Both knew that they did *not* want to know what the boys would really be up to, but that they could rely on their word to have that solution in place and working when they said they would. *****END FLASHBACK***** "And they *will* be back either tomorrow or Wednesday," Brenda confidently asserted.=20 "If the rats an' the Customs officers dinna git tae them first," MacHeather commented drily. "And if we don't blow up the kitchen first," Pen added. "Have some faith in experience," Brenda winked. "I've cooked for crowds before, I can handle the equipment -- and if I need to, I can always call my father and ask him.(2) Now let's get the show on the road, shall we?" *********************************** Notes: (1) From http://www.nextcity.com/main/town/10urban.htm: A pair of Norway rats, Canada's most common species, have up to seven litters per year, each of 8 to 12 young, or a potential 15,000 new rats annually. Pest controllers disagree about how many rats live in Canadian cities. McCarthy disputes the much quoted one-to-one ratio of rats and humans, "Maybe that was the case in the 1700s and 1800s, when wooden cargo ships brought new rats to port every day, but those numbers are just an urban myth now." John Van of Vancouver's B.C. Pest Control estimates that 10 to 15 per cent of Vancouver =97 the tony parts =97 do have as many rats as huma= ns. "There's not enough food for rats in the poorer parts of Vancouver; they much prefer the affluent areas where people throw away large amounts of food, compost improperly, and keep horses." (2) Brenda's dad's father spent some time as a restauranteur by profession; her father spent his youngest years in and around the business. Her own experience is somewhat more limited, her large-group cooking being relegated to weekly cooperative cooking for the 30 residents of her college dormitory... approximately 20 years ago. Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Thu Aug 19 20:28:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HcUR-0001fj-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:25:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9992; Thu, 19 Aug 99 20:22:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1278; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:22:53 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 17:24:44 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA/CGW: You Won't Shine if you Don't Glow To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b48337dc16930a3647651b74966c8d74 WAR: NA/CGW: You Won't Shine if you Don't Glow By MacCousin Heather and Brenda Time: Wednesday 6:30 PM everyone used with permission Sukh and MacCousin were getting ready for their travels back to the shrine, trying to ignore Chris's hangdog expression. "Do ya hafta go?" he whined. "Yes. We are expected and I don't want to think about the replacement for grout duty the HP has thought of now," grumbled Sukh, straightening her plaid toga. MacCousin was dabbing an aeromatherapy oil behind her ears, perfume made her sneeze like the dickens. This one was called Elementals. "Lass..." Chris began. MacCousin sighed and turned to him. "Sorry Chris, she's right. The last thing I need to do is p*ss off the HP yet again. Besides that I haven't seen Nunkies all war." A drooly grin spread across her face. "Oh, yucky," grumbled Chris, staring at the drool. He looked down to see Lucius purring at his feet. He picked up Lucius. Lucius purred and curled up around Chris's neck. "How can you leave him, MacHeather?" Chris asked. "How can you leave your wee bairn behind?" "You'll be a great bairn-sitter, sweetie," grinned the MacCousin. The two Renegade Addicts took out the door. Chris stared at MacHeather's retreating back, sadly. He was still convinced that vampire was not going to let her go so easily. He got a Scotch from the barmaid and sat down with Pen and Brenda. Pen still rubbed her hand. "So Chris, what should I get Heather for her bridal shower?" Brenda asked. "Hmmm?" Chris glanced up from his reverie. "I'm klewless on what to get her. You should know what she wants best," Brenda continued. "Here's the ads for the newspaper. Let me know if you see anything." (Five minutes later) "I have it! The perfect gift! She'll love it!" Chris bounded into the kitchen. Brenda was checking on various pots. Chris pulled out the Comp-Geek ad and pointed it out for Brenda to see. "It's perfect! See! SEE!!!!" "Settle down!" Brenda pushed the paper away from her face to get a better look at whatever Chris was raving about. ****Braveheart: The Game****** Plan your strategy! Sharpen your spears and claymores! Join William Wallace, Robert the Bruce and various others in the brand new strategy game! ******************************* Brenda stared at Chris for a moment. Chris grinned. "You're kidding, right?" she asked. "I mus' certainly am na'! She'll luv it! She's always talkin' 'bout how wunderful Braveheart was. "Yeah," agreed Brenda. "But she has never said anything about how much she loves strategy games." "Get this for her, ye canna go wrong!" "I'm not sure about this..." Brenda looked at the ad again. It was so hard to find suitable gifts these days. "What's there to be sure about? Trust me!" "Hmmmm...okay...but if you're wrong. You'll have to deal with her." "Don't worry I can handle her," Chris huffed. "I'm sure," Brenda rolled her eyes. ************ MacCousin Heather Keeper of the MacNunkies Tapestry http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/ ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hd0f-0006Va-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:58:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0147; Thu, 19 Aug 99 20:56:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3591; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:56:12 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:00:46 -0500 Reply-To: Jill Kirby Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jill Kirby Subject: WAR: NP: Pink is the Color... To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 13276681aa91aa262d141e13b5567168 Pink is the color... By the NatPack Wednesday, August 18 Early evening When the doorbell rang, everyone but Natalie looked concerned. "Relax, guys," she said, going towards the door. "My receptionist from work called and said I got a delivery, and I asked her to have it sent here since it was my night off." The delivery person handed Natalie a box and left with what seemed like unusal quickness. Natalie eyed the box, and nearly dropped it inside the door as it moved. "Oh, goody! Someone sent us more frogs!" breathed Betsy, remembering the fun of a previous War. A very un-froglike (and very angry) meow emanated from the box, and Nat went white. "Ohmigosh! Sidney!" She scrambled to open the box, and everyone gasped at the Sidney that emerged-- pink, shaved, and sporting jewelry. Jewelry! Sidney, quite obviously Very Angry that his human would allow such a grievous injury be perpetrated upon him, sat and glared at Natalie with all the venom that a pink bunny-cat could muster up. "Mrowr," he said with what little dignity he had left. "Oh, my poor BABY!" Natalie descended upon the cat, taking off the earrings and whipping the bow and its bauble off him, flinging it to one side (where it promptly disappeared in the middle of a large pile of half-cut, half-sewn fabric from someone's costuming endeavors). Thus relieved of the most physically annoying items, Sidney proceeed to begin grooming himself. Janet went over and carefully rubbed a damp napkin against his skin, and was relieved when the color came off on the cloth. "At least they had the sense to use something water-based." As Sidney wasn't racing away from her, she took the opportunity to inspect him. "He doesn't appear to be injured, fortunately. No major cuts or scrapes, though his skin is irritated from the razor they used." "Poor, poor baby," crooned Maureen. Natalie shook her head, unable to take her eyes off what had become of her cat. "This is sick. Sick. They probably had to him, for God's sake, for him to put up with this." There was a general murmur of disapproval. "And drugs are -- you never know how an animal is going to react." Janet's voice held more than disapproval. "I'm going to go get this color off him before he eats it all off," she said, and whisked Sidney off to the bathroom. "I didn't even realize he was gone," Natalie said with a distinct note of guilt in her voice. "Speaking of which..." Kim looked around, confused. "Except for Seymour, our cats are gone." "Please tell me they're not going to come back looking like this!" said Maureen in horror. "Ophelia would have to be committed to an insane asylum!" Natalie was staring at the bathroom door where Sidney and Janet had disappeared. "I can't stand to see him like this." "We have to get him back to his normal self," Jennie said decisively. "Just how in the hell do you propose we do that?" It took a fair amount to really set Natalie Lambert off, but desecrating her cat had apparently done the trick. She had That Tone In Her Voice that made even the NatPack take a deep breath (well, made them take lots of separate deep breaths, since even the NatBorg doesn't all breathe with one set of lungs. Really they don't) and pray to Elvis that no one got hurt. "He's PINK. PINK. They've turned my gorgeous boy into a nightmare. He's traumatized. Wars are supposed to be fun and good-natured and for goodness' sake. Harmless animals shouldn't be " An Idea began to form in Debra Ann's head, and although it sounded like a wild, stupid, probably impossible idea, she thought it anyway-- because wars are to be wild, stupid and impossible. "There is one person who might be able to help us..." Her voice trailed off, and she shot the Pack a meaningful look. None of them had the slightest klew what she was being meaningful about, thus shooting all to hell the concept that the Pack communicates without words. Debra Ann, still wanting everyone to guess what she was thinking because, dammit, they SHOULD be able to guess what she was thinking because they were the NatPack after all, went on. "One person who's gifted with cuts, and colors, and hair..." Maureen let out a piercing shriek; dogs nearby began to howl. "You don't mean..." "You couldn't mean..." Jill whispered. Betsy looked like she was about to burst into tears. "Oh, please tell us you mean..." Debra Ann nodded. They'd finally gotten it, and without the use of any charades. "Yes, Mitch Wetmore, stylist extraordinaire! We could make appointments tomorrow, before the party!" There were more screams. James just looked totally confused-- not unusual; he'd spent much of his time in this War 1) wondering what the heck he'd gotten into b) wishing that these strange women would speak in complete sentences and III) thinking that even men should, for at least one night, have couch rights and not be relegated to the floor. But wait, we're digressing. Maureen was all out of breath. "Screw the birthday party!" she screamed. "Get me to the salon, now!" "But, there are presents..." Betsy was stunned. Maureen turning down gifts was like a Knightie turning down a chance to run his/her hands through Nick's hair, or a Ravenette passing up a free shopping spree, or an episode of JAG without David James Elliott in a tightly fitting top. It Just Did Not Happen. "Presents, schmesents!" Maureen looked somewhat unhinged (and no comments here about "more unhinged than usual" or "what's odd about Maureen looking unhinged?" or "Unhinged? Her door's off the hinges and floating down the stream!", please) "I want Mitch! Mitch! All Mitch, all the time!" Kim patted Maureen's hand reassuringly. "We can't go now, anyway. They're probably booked solid. We'll get in as soon as we can." "And Mitch can fix up Sidney," Judy said happily. "He'll be a shorthaired cat for a while, but they can at least dye him to the proper color." Maureen, rational enough to understand that the salon probably have available appointments (and still having just enough remaining Merc tendencies to realize that giving up birthday presents was just freaking moronic) gave in. "All right. We'll go as soon as we can get appointments." "Under assumed names, of course," Natalie commented, remembering the chaos that this group had caused last time they were at the salon. Heck, time they were at the salon. *** Jill Kirby ** kirby@enteract.com New homepage location: http://jillkirby.webjump.com 'Oh the horror! Oh, the humanity! Oh, the ANGST!' "What's an angst?" 'Oh, it's like a cross but with a little loopy bit on top...' --JB From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hd3L-0006aj-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 21:01:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4065; Thu, 19 Aug 99 20:58:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3780; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:58:56 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 21:00:49 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: WAR: DP: Pink Demon Mosh pit To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 627a18be0bd867f0bb74f43047747c41 Thursday 8-19; evening; DP Mansion Martin slips in a CD but he really has no idead what kind of music it is. When the first chords of the heavy rock starts, he sits back into the couch and enjoys it. He usually didn't enjoy this sort of music, but this particular song sounded good to him. As the sound begins a pounding tune, he closes his eyes and enjoys it. Soon he opens his eyes slightly to the strangest sight he's seen in the mansion so far; the demons are in a giant mosh pit. The pink demon's arms and heads thrash madly as Martin watches them with amusement. Burp, wearing a torn leather and chains as he is carried around by the pit. Mary comes in to the sound of heavy rock music and thrashing demons. She says something but Martin doesn't hear it above the sound of the music. He glances up and sees her on the other side of the mosh pit. He turns off the music. The pink demons continue to thrash in the pit for several more seconds and stop with an almost audible 'Awww', even though none of the can talk. "Mary!!" Martin shouts out as she sits down quickly. "Hows ya'll doin'?" He grabs the liter bottle of Pepsi that he is working on. "Okay, Martin." She doesn't seem even a bit perturbed with the sight of dozens of demons looking rather angry at the lack of music. "Just laying back and relaxing this evenin'." The demons start to angrily start to mill about as Tracy comes into the living room. "Miss Vetter, its nice to finally meet you." Martin watches as the detective crosses the few clear places to the chairs. She look pointily at the demons. "Just a lil' bit of fun that they decided to join in." He hits the play button and the music starts again. The demons start to happily thrash again and Burp takes up his earlier riding around the mosh pit. Martin shouts out, "Hey Miss Tracy, what was with the artist at the Ravenette Party." Tracy shouts back, "He wanted to make a scuptures of Janette and myself." "What kind of scupture?" Tracy tells Martin and his jaw drops before recovering while the ladies laugh at his expression and changing the subject. "So ladies, is there anything happening tonight. Is so, I'm in and I'll even drive for you." _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11He9P-0007Ff-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 22:11:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4489; Thu, 19 Aug 99 22:08:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8595; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 22:08:08 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 16:14:53 -1000 Reply-To: kevinm@PIXI.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kevin Matsumoto Subject: WAR:N&Npackers: Cats & Rats & Bears OH MY! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f8246a5264d7984e2ae2df48fc262d7c N&Npackers: Cats & Rats & Bears OH MY! Location: N&NPacker HQ TIME: About 2 hours after "What's that sound?" WHO: Casey and Boomer used with permission. Bear belongs to me. Chesapeake and Squirt belong to Laura. Everyone used with permission. Casey pulled up short as she entered the security room. There, lying on the ground, his nose almost under one of the cots, was Laura's Rotweiller puppy Chesapeake . Walking over to him, Casey reached down and started scratching the scruff of his neck. "What's the matter boy?" Chesapeake looked up at her and whined before putting his nose back under the cot. "I think he want's to play." Kevin told her. Casey looked over to where Kevin was sitting. He was in front of the outside monitors, his eyes idly roaming over them as he nibbled on some popcorn. "Play?" She asked. "With Bear, he's under the cot." Kevin replied without taking his eyes off the monitor. "Who?" Casey looked under the cot. There, sitting with its backside pressed firmly against the wall, was a medium sized dog. At first glance, Casey thought it was German Shepherd, but as her eyes adjusted to darkness under the cot she realized that it was probably a mixed breed dog. "Why is he under there?" She asked Kevin. "I think he cornered one of Laura's cats." Kevin shrugged, "The only problem is, he didn't know that cats and dogs aren't supposed to get along." "He was trying to make friends?" Casey looked back under the cot. "Yep," Kevin grinned, "I heard the cat hiss and then he came running in here. He hasn't moved in the last hour." "Haven't you tried to get him out?" Casey reached in and patted Bear's head. "How'd he get a name like Bear?" "He looked like a bear cub when he was a puppy," Kevin replied absently, "I did try to get him out from under there. Just as I got him out, one of Laura's cats came in here, took one look at him and howled. He dove back under the cot and the cat climbed up onto one of the cabinets. I gave up trying to catch it about 15 minutes ago." Casey looked up at the cabinets Kevin pointed at. She could just make out a small cat hiding on the top of the cabinet staring at Chesapeake. "Hey, that's not one of Laura's cats." "Say that again?" Kevin turned to get a better look at the cat in question. "Are you sure?" "Yeah, Laura doesn't have any cats like that one." "Huh! I thought it was Squirt." Kevin replied, naming Laura's most timid cat. "Nope, Squirt's not that..." Casey's voice died out, causing Kevin to turn from whatever he was doing to look at her. The first thing he noticed was the petrified look on her face. "Something wrong?" "AHHH!!!!" Casey jumped up onto the cot. The sudden impact on the upper part of his hiding place caused Bear to bolt. Chesapeake, deciding that Bear did want to play after all, took off after him. "RAT!!!" Casey screamed as she grabbed one the security room's paintball guns. Kevin's eyes widened as he realized that Casey was bringing the gun to bear in his general direction. Diving for cover he heard the loud pops as the gun went off in full auto mode. Thankfully for the security room in general and Kevin in particular, Casey's aim was dead on. Kevin caught sight of a rat covered in a rainbow of neon colors heading for the door. "AHHH!!!" This time the scream came from outside the security room. Kevin and Casey headed out the door, paintball guns at the ready. They caught sight of Boomer standing there with a panicked look on her face. "What happened?" Casey asked. "I've been watching 60's week too much on VH1," Boomer replied shakily, "I could have sworn I just saw a psychedelic rat run by." "You did," Kevin pointed his index finger at Casey, "Deadeye here gave it a paint bath." "Thank goodness," Boomer replied, "I thought the WAR was getting to me for a second." "Where'd the rat go?" Casey asked looking around warily. A loud squeak came from around the corner. Casey frowned, "Didn't that sound like a rat after Screed's caught it?" "Yeah," Boomer said, "Hey, you don't think Screed got in here somehow?" Finally she shook her head, "NAH, If Screed was anywhere in Toronto when the vamps got changed, he'd be a mortal too." "So what was that?" Casey asked. Then both she and Boomer screamed when several large rats ran past them with a horde of cats close behind. "What's going on!?" Casey screamed. "You didn't hear?" Kevin looked startled, "Soul and some of the others found out we were being overrun with rats. So they hired the Mercs to bring us the other factions' cats." "All of them?" Boomer asked. "I think Sydney's the only one that got out." Kevin shrugged, "We even have Gandalf and Merlin from the Cousins." "The VAMP KITTIES!?" Casey looked around again before remembering. "Oh yeah, they'd be mortal too right?" "I hope so." Kevin replied. "KEVIN! LAURA! GET YOUR ANIMALS OUT OF HERE!!" A voice shouted. "That sounded like it came from the computer room." Boomer said. The three quickly ran to the computer room. As they opened the door they were nearly run down by a large rat being followed by Bear, Chesapeake, Squirt and five other cats. "Bear's chasing rats?" Kevin looked puzzled, "I didn't even think he knew what a rat was." "Those were the Cousins' cats," Boomer explained, "And I think they were chasing rat and Squirt and Bear got in the way." "Great," Casey muttered, looking at the chaos inside the computer room. "This is going to be a long night." "At least we don't have to worry about the rats." Boomer replied. "I just hope Soul bought some extra litterboxes," Kevin replied as he headed back to the security room. End. From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HeAK-0001Nn-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 22:12:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2175; Thu, 19 Aug 99 22:10:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8752; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 22:10:08 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 22:01:30 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Truckin with the Harem 01/03 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4690bdba6a652e2c6447e61da4bbc0ad NA: Truckin with the Harem 01/03 by Patt Elmore When: Thursday, August 19, 1999 Before the party at Nick's Harem Where: The NA Cathedral, once known as Vachon's Church Addicts all used with permission and input ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I am having so much fun," Ivy reported as she finished placing marble motif shelf liners in each of the Church's kitchen cabinets. "It's so nice to be able to do some decorating without the whine of power saws buzzing in your ears." "I agree," Glennis concured, straightening the bouquet of white roses she'd placed in a vase on the table. "And, I hope the Vaqs appreciate the patrician touches we're adding to their place. At least *we* know how to behave when in someone else's home." "Where do you ladies, and I use the term . . ." Erik entered the kitchen/no lab area, holding a large armful of plastic items. When he met several feminine-type glares, he shrugged, dropped his burden on the nearest counter and scooted back out of the room. "He's been kind of off since after dinner last night," Christy commented, going over to Erik's dropped load and beginning to sort. "I think he and Ary may have had a tiff." "What?" Tiff poked her head up from behind the kitchen island she'd been scrubbing. "What do you want?" "Wrong tiff, Tiff," Nite, who was attending to the top of the afore mentioned island, patted the other woman's head and then gave her a friendly shove downward. "Back to Ajax." "Ajax," Egrus Toga chortled to life, his mixer blades spinning happily. "Swiftest of the Greeks, except for Achilles. The heal." "Just hush and keep the clean rags coming." Nite reached down and thumped the little bot on his lid. "I think Erik's problem is his encounter with the Evil Pink Bathroom," Allie noted. "He did a most splendid job repainting it, but you know it had to take its toll on his psyche." The addicts all nodded. "WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON??!!" KC burst into the room, waving a massive spray paint contraption at the other addicts. "Why are you Matre Stuwarding, when you should be demolishing?" "Bons told us to be nice," Dee said serenely. "She's in negotiations right now, and we're supposed to behave." "Bosh and Fiddlesticks!" KC announced. "The deed has been done and we seek revenge. Trash deserves trash!" "Calm down, Susan," Allie smiled. "Everything is going to be okay. Just think of your happy place." KC, already startled by Allie's use of her given name, narrowed her eyes at the woman. "You've been talking to Patt, right?" "No . . ." Allie replied, while Monica bobbed her head. "We're still basking in the glow of Nunkies' visit last night and even Vaquera-o exasperation cannot penetrate that trance." "I repeat, as this is PG-13, Bosh and Fiddlesticks!" KC cried loudly. "Are we NA or mice?" A huddle of about fifteen brown, furry rats squeaked in unison, waving madly at the Kissing Cousin. "Shut up, or I'll sick Fredster and his Watson on ya," KC snarled. The rats scattered, and KC grinned with satisfaction. "I *will* rule the world!" she cried. "Shouldn't you be packing for school, dear?" Glennis asked in her most motherly tone. KC became enraged. "I HAVE TOO MUCH TO DO. I HAVE WALLS TO DEFACE! FLOOR BOARDS TO PULL UP, BRIDGES TO BURN! BLIMPS TO EXPLODE! SPACESHIPS TO FLY!! I can't think about packing!!!" "Where's Bram and her newt-ing when you need it," Jesse whispered to Caren. "Where's Patt?" KC demanded. "She'll understand what I'm talking about. Where is the Third Cousin?" As if on cue, Patt entered the kitchen, apparently just passing through. KC stepped in front of the mature addict, blocking her path. "I demand satisfaction!" Patt looked down at the just-a-bit shorter addict. The Third Cousin tilted her head and said, "Water pistols at dawn?" "How about beer bottles at dusk?" Caren suggested. "Bud at bedtime?" Christy chimed in. "Heinikin at Happy Hour!" Glennis said eagerly. "Add some Cheetos ," Erik said, popping his head back into the room, "and I'm game." KC shrieked, causing everyone, but Patt, to fall back several steps. "Feel better?" the mature one inquired of the quaking addict. "A little," KC conceded as she returned to normal coloring. "You're right. Venting is good for the soul." "And now, if you'll all excuse me, I have another solo errand to run," Patt said, starting to move on again. "I have a truck to repossess and return to its rightful owner." "Did she say 'solo'?" Caren asked after the Third Cousin had exited the kitchen. "That doesn't sound good." "Yep," Glennis agreed. "The last time she returned from a solitary caper, she came back smelling rather raunchy. Took a lot of Lysol to get that tiny little bathroom back to habitable state." "I vote we keep a close eye on the Third Cousin," Allie announced. This idea was greeted by murmurs of approval and accedence. "Who wants to volunteer to keep up with her?" No one moved. Finally, Jesse spoke up. "Patt has a tendency to write herself into trouble," the teenage addict stated. "I live for trouble," KC announced. "But, Patt's adventures usually end up with her ticking off Nunkies. The addicts all nodded and agreed. Patt walked back into the room, carrying a large box of scarves. "Is she fixing to hang herself?" Ivy whispered to Caren. "Probably," Caren replied. "She usually does." Dee walked up to where the Third Cousin was rummaging through a drawer. "Whatcha doing, fearless co-leader?" "Looking for some rope," Patt replied. "See--told ya!" A triumphant Caren poked Ivy's shoulder. "Need some help?" Glennis offered. "Nope." Patt pulled out a shank of twine and tucked it under her arm. "Got what I needed." She picked up a box of safety pins and thru them in the box with the scarves. "Are you still mad at us for not coming looking for you?" Tiff asked earnestly. "We're sorry. We were just so busy, and we figured if anyone could take care of themselves, it would be you." "Yeah, anyone who handles a beer bottle like you couldn't find themselves in *that* much danger," Christy added. Patt did not reply, but just picked up the box again and headed toward the door. "'Do not drop in for an after-loss. As, do not, when my heart hath 'scap'd this sorrow,'" Egrus whirred. "'Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purpos'd overthorw.'" The little blender bot suddenly stopped and ejected the cloth it had been cleaning. The bleached fabric fell with a plop on Patt's head. "SCORE!!" the bot bleeped. "I'll keep that in mind, Egrus," Patt commented, removing the rag and tossing it to Nite, who stood by the sink. "But, I assure you, I'm not planning to end it all. I'm simply fixing to go after my truck." "But, what do you need the scarves for?" Monica persisted. "The last I saw of my truck, it was in the hands of a Harem Wife," the Third Cousin said. "They're having a party tonight and I'm fixing to infiltrate their Nickie faction and see if I can find my wheels." With those parting words, Patt left the room. "But, she still didn't tell us what the scarves were for," Monica protested. Then she noticed several of the addicts were looking at each other and nodding, their eyes aglow. "Did I miss something?" Monica asked. "Not yet, but you better hurry or you just might." Tiff grinned, as the addicts headed for the door in the direction Patt had exited. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End, part 01/03 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HfaH-0001U7-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 23:43:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1161; Thu, 19 Aug 99 23:28:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7842; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 23:28:12 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 20:29:55 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: NA/GSS/CUZ: The Cousins Strike Back (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ebf4303c7ff992643302011215716f8a Title: The Cousins Strike Back Time: Wednesday, afternoon, after "Help Me, My General, You're My Only Hope!!!", before "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" Place: The NA (currently Vaq) Shrine By Jennifer Lee , SilverJade , and Cousin Tser Permission from all featured, Vachon used with the Vaqueras permission. * * * * * * * The GSS had received the command from Tok to start a rescue party early Tuesday morning. 1/3rd of Cerberus had been kidnapped, and this was not a matter to be taken lightly. Unfortunately they had no idea where she was. In the early of dawn Tuesday they had begun their planning, situated in their deep hidden headquarters. The other GSS members weren't present, being busy with surveillance and other jobs. Equipment was procured, including various lock-picking devices, homing beacons, and some technologically advanced heat seeing binoculars, enabling them to see through walls to judge the number of people inside. It was now midmorning Wednesday and they still had no idea where to find their Cousinly leader, though they figured the Shrine was worth a shot. Insane or not, isn't that where the Addicts hung out? GSS Agents Ace, Silver, and sHolmes made their way to the Shrine. * * * * * "There are a lot of people inside," Ace said. "Also, various bodies outside, apparently working on construction." She took the binoculars away from her eyes and stared at the Shrine from where they hid across the street in the shadows. "Certainly is a mess." "A lot of people sounds right for the Shrine," sHolmes added. "I say we --" She was interrupted by the pounding of little hooves on the pavement and a "Heeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaw!" that echoed off the buildings. All three GSS members turned, startled, to see a burro approaching at top speed. "That's Tser's donkey, Lavalianna!" Ace exclaimed. The longear equine skidded to a stop before them. She was intent on rescuing her mistress. Only her mistress gave the proper earrubs and new exactly where her scratchy parts were. "Can I *ask* why Tser has a *donkey*?" Silver's eyebrows were furrowed in a perplexed expression that seemed to be becoming her trademark. The other two agents looked at Silver, the donkey and then each other. They shrugged simultaneously, which made Silver sigh in exasperation. "So what's our plan?" sHolmes asked seriously. "Well, me can always just knock," Ace suggested. She raised her hands in a defensive gesture as Silver glared at her. "Okay, okay! Let's see here...." The three agents gathered around the map Ace pulled out of her pocket. "We're here," she indicated, pointing to the right side of the square of paper. "The entrance is here." She pointed again. "Now if we go this way...." Various mumbling ensued as Ace outlined the plan of attack. A couple minutes passed before the three stood up and looked over at the large building. "all right, go!" Ace ordered as she sprinted across the street. She took up a defensive posture underneath one of the front windows and motioned for the other two to join her. Silver and sHolmes came across, sHolmes positioning herself under the other window and Silver standing in front of the huge door. Each pulled their respective dart guns (tm) and Silver made ready to burst through the door. Just then, a plaintive braying was heard and the three agents turned to watch Lava trot across the road towards them. She stopped next to Ace and began whuffling her hair. "I guess the donkey's coming with us," Ace muttered, batting lightly at the burro's nose to get her away from her carefully coifed hair. "All right, plan change." Silver and sHolmes smiled at each other as they followed their leader around the corner of the building. Hugging the wall tightly, they made their way along it until they came upon an old wooden door. "Service entrance," Ace whispered. "Leads into the kitchen. No one'll expect us from this side." Silver nodded and took out a lock-picking kit to get to work on the door handle. A faint 'click' was heard and she pushed the door open, peering into the dimly-lit interior. She couldn't see any movement with her sensitive eyes and so called over her shoulder, "All clear," before slipping through the door and into the kitchen. The other two agents, as well as a surprisingly silent donkey, followed her in. Ace gestured to the far door and sHolmes nodded. The agent walked quickly across the room and opened the door, spilling light into their hiding place. She looked around quickly before motioning for the other two to follow her. Taking up a guard position just on the other side of the door, she kept an eye out as Silver and Ace, plus Lava, made their way into the room, keeping low to the ground and looking for a suitable place to conceal themselves. "This place does *not* look like a shrine to the General," sHolmes whispered. "Where is all the Roman decoration? The busts? The rich colors? This place looks like some Slacker got to it!" "Suspicious," Ace muttered, narrowing her eyes. "I don't like this." Suddenly a figure walked by and the three GSS agents ducked behind a convenient piece of furniture. Unfortunately, Lava didn't know how to duck. The figure paused and seemed to stare at the burro for a moment, then walked over. "Lava?" he said. The voice was Vachon's. "What are YOU doing here? Where's that buzz-cutted chick?" He looked around for Tser. Instead he saw the three huddled GSS Agents. Unfortunately, their dark clothes didn't blend in just right. "We're under attack!" he exclaimed, mustering up enough non-slackerness to say it loudly. "Vachon?" the three confused GSS agents said in unison. Two Vaqueras came running in, to see what was going on, stared at the burro in confusion and then at the three GSS Agents who were staring back equally confused, only not blinking so much. "This is a mistake," Silver said quickly. "We were looking for the NA," Ace explained. "A member of the NA kidnapped one of our leaders," sHolmes added. "They're at the Church," Vachon said, rubbing his temples. "Who was kidnapped?" The three GSS members looked at each other, a little wary. "Cousin Tserisa," Ace said slowly. "Don't tell me she ended up in a dark alley *again*," Vachon said, and grinned slightly. Suddenly, one of GSS's cell phones buzzed. Ace took it out gingerly. "Agent Ace," the voice on the end of the line said. It was the General. "I've found a mysterious map claiming to show the location of our missing Leader. The Shrine's Stables. Investigate this." The phone clicked and a dial tone replaced LaCroix's voice. "Do you know where the Stables are?" Ace asked, closing and pocketing her phone. Vachon and the two Vaqueras looked at Lava. "There's evidence that the Stables may be where she's being hidden." "Oh," said Felicia. "I'm not sure, I didn't even know this place had Stables. Boy those Toga Chickens sure are weird." "Toga what?" Silver asked. "Never mind." "Mind if we explore a bit, looking for them?" sHolmes asked. The Vaqueras narrowed their eyes. This could still be a trick. "Fine," Rae finally said, "but until you do, we're going with you." The GSS set off to find the Sacred Stables, followed by a burro and two suspicious Vaqueras. It wasn't that hard, the smell of straw, horses and, for some odd reason, a lot of olive oil, led them to the entrance. Or rather Lava did... she had been kept in there before and knew how nice and cushy it was. "Thanks, don't need your help anymore," sHolmes said cheerfully to the Vaqueras. "We'd like to see if you're telling the truth," Felicia insisted. The GSS looked at each other in exasperation, though they did understand War Paranoia, a common disease, usually lasting two weeks in duration, causing the person to distrust everyone and everything and even their own self... sometimes it even lasted longer. "I don't know if you want to," Ace said. "We're told this Addict is crazed and to be considered fairly dangerous." The Vaqueras stood fast. "Okay," GSS Agent Ace said. "Your risk to take." * * * * * Tser soon found out what attending to the Addict gone mad meant. She had to polish her boots, sweep a path before her as she walked (which was incredibly difficult because she kept pacing back and forth), pick straw off her clothes and out of her hair, and say "Yes Emperor" over and over even if Jennifer/Caligula didn't say a thing. The worst part was probably getting hit repeatedly with the end of a lead rope without having any idea why she was being thwacked at. Suddenly, she heard a very familiar bray. "Lava?" she said. "SILENCE!" Jennifer/Caligula exclaimed, thwapping her with the rope. "Ow." Luke looked up from the horses. Suddenly, the door burst open and three people dressed in stylish black, whom Tser recognized as GSS Agents, and two slackerly looking people, whom Tser guessed were Vaqs, burst into the room, followed by a trotting burro. "Stop!" the Imperial Addict, brandishing her leadrope threateningly, exclaimed. "Who are you, and how dare you enter my Palace without permission?" The five humans looked at each other then at the shining wood and clear swept path, with Tser holding a broom. "Finally," Tser said grumpily. "We come for Tserisa!" sHolmes said. She pointed at Tser who was leaning on the broom, looking very tired. "You work for the General, don't you!" Jennifer/Caligula said, rushing them with her leadrope. "You'll never have her!" Her leadrope landed with a thunk on Rae's head, causing her to weave dizzily then pass out. As the Vaq fell, Jennifer/Caligula pulled out her toy lightsword, and with a snap of her wrist, sent the blade out as she thumbed the light on. "Stand against me, if you dare, for I am GAIUS 'CALIGULA' CAESAR, EMPEROR OF THE ROMANS AND GOD!!!" she challenged in an imperious voice. "Yeah, right. And I'm Her Royal Highness, Queen Amidala," Silver muttered under her breath. Ace elbowed her in the ribs. "What have I told you about crossovers?!" Silver looked away guiltily and mumbled, "Sorry." The GSS Agents tried to grab her, Luke was struggling to get her from behind, and Tser was thwapping at her with the broom. Jen/Cal whipped her lead rope around, colliding with several of her attackers, swinging her plastic blade around madly. All in all, it was too crowded and confused for anyone to actually do anything. "Heeeeeee yaaaaaaw!!" Lava's resounding cry echoed through the stables. Everyone, including Jennifer/Caligula, turned to see the burro bucking and braying, looking like she was doing some sort of karate moves. Tserisa *knew* she was, they had taken a martial arts defense class together. Lavalianna had mastered it much better than she. Lava moved closer and the GSS Agents, ex-vampire, conscious Vaquera and Cousinly Leader scattered. Especially Tser. She knew Lava was a Master (black bridle, even) of the martial arts. Undeterred, Jennifer/Caligula stood bravely against the burro, throwing leadrope and lightsword aside. "So, it's come to this, has it. Very well then. COME FOR ME!!!" she bellowed. Lava turned on a dime on one foreleg, ears laid back, and did what was commonly referred to as a "donkey kick" by kindergartners in gym class. Her hind hoof connected with Jennifer's forehead with a dull thunk. Then she trotted over to Tser and nuzzled her. Tser scratched her scratchy places. "It's all my fault!!!" Luke exclaimed as he rushed over to the fallen Addict. "It's all my fault!!! If I'd gotten Tser out sooner, Jennifer would never have been hit in the head again!!!" He knelt down beside her, crying. The GSS and Vaqueras looked on in astonishment. "My gods," said Silver. "Is he related to Nick?" "No," Tser said, shaking her head sadly. "He's had an identity crisis ever since that movie about guys with glowing swords and the little green alien with pointy ears came out in 1977." "Oh." "Where... what?" Jennifer asked as her eyes fluttered open. "What happened?" She rubbed her forehead, but of course, this being a War, there wasn't any lasting damage, or even a mark. "Jennifer?" Tser asked curiously. "Tser! What are you doing here! And Smokey! Is Chevaliers de la Nuit meeting or something? I didn't think we--" "Jennifer!!!" Luke cried, smothering her in a bear hug. "Oh, you're all right!!!" He was crying even more, now, if that were possible. "Yeah, that's great," Jennifer managed to gasp. "Air, please." Luke immediately let her go, and she sat up, then looked at Tser. "Who's this guy?" "That's Luke," Tser supplied. "The guy who dropped the brick on your head that made you think you were Emperor Caligula." "He- I- What?! Oh, by the TPTBs!!!" Jennifer shook her head sadly. "I -- I kidnapped you, didn't I?" she asked. Tser just nodded. "And you," Jennifer said, turning to Luke, "I made you my servant too, didn't I?" "Yes, my beloved, you did, but it's all right. It's all my fault!!!" "Can it, laser-brain!" Jennifer interrupted him. "If you don't stop angsting, I'll kick you out of my harddrive and into the smallest floppy I can find!!!" Luke canned it. Jennifer turned to Tser. "Remind me to write him a little more like the man of my dreams, next time." "You got it," Tser replied, smiling. She felt much safer with the old Jennifer back. The Jennifer who had the normal problems of a seventeen year old high school grad. The Jennifer who put her horses and cats above all else in the world. The Jennifer who didn't try to maim people. "Uh, Tser," Jennifer ventured as she stood. "Is it just my admittedly fuzzy brain, or did I have a... confrontation of sorts with Nunkies...?" "Yep," Tser said. She had a feeling LaCroix wasn't too happy with HER about that encounter either. "Oh (choice curses edited for PG.-13 viewing). How am I going to get out of this one?!" "I wouldn't worry too much, Jennifer," Tser said. "You can make your peace next time you see him. He's knows how... delicate his Addicts can be." *Good luck,* she thought. Jennifer groaned. Luke slipped his arm through hers and said, "Come on. Why don't you go with Coup and your girls to meet up with the rest of Nunkies Anonymous at the Church. I'll follow with your luggage, okay?" "Okay," Jennifer said, smiling at him. "Thanks. And Tser?" "Hmm?" the exhausted part of Cerberus said. "I'm really, really very sorry about this. Can you forgive me?" "Let's see... You kidnapped me and my horse. You bound my hands with rope -- tightly I might add. You made me your servant. You hung me from a beam by my wrists. You wanted to crucify me...." The GSS and the conscious Vaq balked. The Vaquera decided it was a *very* good time to make an exit, and pulled her unconscious coVaq out of the Stables behind her. "You weren't in your right mind. I'll let it go... this time. It's all Luke's fault for dropping the brick, anyway," Tser finished. Jennifer grinned. "Thanks, Tser. I'll see you later, then. Tell LaCroix that I really am very, very sorry." "All right, all right," Tser assured the newbie. "Would you get going, now? I have things to do. The other 2/3 of Cerberus are probably upset at being stuck with all the work during my prolonged absence." "Okay, okay. I'm going. Happy warring, and au rev-Nunkies," Jennifer said as she turned to tend to her animals. "Watch out for flying bricks next time," Tser said grinning. "Bye. Now *I* am going back to CERK, and light or not, I'd really appreciate some GSS accompaniment in case some alley somewhere decides to swallow me." With that, she climbed aboard Smokey bareback and walked out of the stables, Lavalianna following happily and the GSS Agents acting properly body-guardish. ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HfvC-00027F-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 00:04:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2916; Thu, 19 Aug 99 23:43:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8956; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 23:43:11 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 23:44:09 EDT Reply-To: Knightwave@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: + All Subject: War: UF: A Rae of Morning Light To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 58e609cf8338a68beaa9ff8ceaa6e20c War: UF: "A Rae Of Morning Light!" 1/1 By: Susan Ellen Field, with some tweaking and humor injection by April Hackett Setting: The Hive, Toronto, Canada, and The Shrine Time: In the Wee Morning Hours of Friday, 20th Everyone used with permission "Okay, is everyone ready to go?" Susan asked looking over the assembled group that had gathered in the main room of the Hive. It was predawn. Everyone was still in pajamas and Nightgowns. April asked the question, since the others were still half-asleep, their eyes barely open as mouths stretched into wide, lazy yawns. "Please explain to us again. Why are we going out so early?" "I told you guys, there won't be anyone at the popular tourist spots at this time of the morning. Besides, with all the parties we've been invited to not to mention all the stuff we're planning during this WAR, this is the only day we have any free time to sightsee!" "Yeah, but won't everything still be closed?" Megan mumbled sleepily, pulling her robe on. "That's the beauty of it! No crowds!" "Okay, let's get this over with, I need to get back to bed and continue reading more of the 'Pillow Book!'" Shan muttered. A short time later, Becky, April, Megan, Jules, Susan and Shan exited The Hive, hauling Presence and Cleo, who were both still asleep, with them. They piled into a van that Susan had rented for this occasion and headed for downtown Toronto. After a couple of hours of touring several of Toronto's hot spots, the semi-conscious group of Uffers started to feel hungry. As Becky mentioned a desire to eat, April, Jules, and Shan, each thought groggily that maybe Susan would accept hunger as an acceptable excuse for going home. Susan wouldn't hear of it. "I figured you all would get hungry, so I fixed you all breakfast to go! Susan passed around little brown bags marked with everyone's name on them. A mixture of fear and nausea struck the gang at the thought of eating what was hidden within the bags. Several UF members were still having nightmares over the last meal Susan had prepared! "Well, eat up!" Susan urged, noticing hesitation on her friends' parts. Just than, Lora spoke up. "Hey guys, look! It's The Shrine. Let's go check it out before we... Eat!" Relieved to be able to escape another one of Susan's cooking attempts, everyone rushed out of the van at warp speed. (Shades of Star Trek, with full acknowledgement of its copy right too. ) Suddenly, Presence spotted Rae! "What's Rae doing sitting alone on the steps of the Shrine? Isn't she supposed to be with the Vaqueros?" asked Megan. "Maybe the rest of them are inside," Shan said. "Hey!! I've got a great idea! Let's kidnap her before the rest come outside and bring her back to the Hive for the day!! Show her what a good time really is, Uffish style!" Jules declared. Everyone agreed that this was a great idea. They grabbed what they needed from the van (it's your standard kidnapping package. Ask for it at *your* nearest rental vehicle location) and snuck up behind Rae and grabbed her. "What the Heck, mmffpphhh!" Rae managed to get out before she felt a group of hands grab her from behind. A short struggle later, she found herself handcuffed with a large laundry bag shoved over her head. It was quite annoying and a bit uncomfortable since Becky's laundry was still inside the bag at the time. "Step on it, April!! We gotta get outta here before any Vaqueros spot us!" Cleo shouted. The van roared away at high speed, while the Unnamed group again faced Susan's breakfast, Susan, and a trussed up Rae. Knowing none of them could face what was in those brown paper bags, Megan quickly grabbed them while Susan was diverted by Rae's muffled demands. Megan only hoped no one would be able to follow them back to the Hive by the trail of Susan's breakfast surprise as she pitched them out the window. Thought none of them liked littering, it beat spending the rest of the war in the hospital. Unbeknownst to the merry group of kidnappers, a honey stick had fallen from Jules' back pocket onto the steps of the Shrine, right where Rae had been sitting. The End From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:43 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hgfs-0006wq-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 00:53:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1790; Fri, 20 Aug 99 00:51:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6873; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 00:51:00 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 23:40:53 -0500 Reply-To: Tina Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tina Subject: WAR: Knighties: When Knighties Attack To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cca9ed62f504f10694336efebbbf6497 When Knighties Attack Time: Wednesday, August 18, 1999 3:00 a.m. Location: Vaq Shrine Everyone used with permission. Tinker poked her head inside the door leading into the Shrine and looked around. "Okay, looks like the coast's clear." She walked in accompanied by Steph, Zoe, and Min. Tinker set the duffel bag she carried down on the floor. Unzipping the bag, she pulled out a can of purple spray paint. She handed it to Zoe, who promptly began to work on her 'masterpiece.' The bag was full of Barney audio tapes and CDs, all of which had been relabeled to look innocent. She glanced up at her other two compatriots. "Do we have any idea where they keep their tapes, anyway?" After a few minutes of searching, the Vaqs' music collection was discovered. It was immediately replaced, the originals stowed in the duffel bag (for safe keeping). "Umm guys?" Mindy said quietly, and with the slightest hint of an evil grin. Steph picked up on the beginnings of more mischief immediately. "Whatcha got planned?" she grinned. Tinker looked up with a questioning glance from her task of hefting the duffel bag filled with Vaq music. Well seeing as how the Vaqs gave the Caddy a tune up," Min noted sarcastically. "I thought we should show the same hostil...uhh hospitality, and give their sound system a lil boost...in volume." "Ooo," Tinker grinned. "Perfect! Everyone in the shrine simply must be able to hear their new music selections." With that the three Knightie avengers proceeded to 'fix' the sound system for ultimate volume sans control. They paused long enough to check out Zoe's artwork, and were pleased to note that a disgustingly cheerful Barney decorated the wall opposite the main door. It smiled and waved to all who dared to enter. A few minutes later the four Knighties left, snickering quietly. **************** Tink From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hgj0-0003ku-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 00:56:23 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1798; Fri, 20 Aug 99 00:54:15 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7014; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 00:54:15 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 21:55:59 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: WAR: NA: Truckin with the Harem 02/03 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 396bf1749e6afb1bb73b4f2bb8b695af NA: Truckin with the Harem 02/03 by Patt Elmore When: Thursday, August 19, 1999 Before the party at Nick's Harem Where: The NA Cathedral, once known as Vachon's Church Addicts all used with permission and input ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The group of addicts found Patt in one of the Vaq communal bedrooms, standing in front of a mirror. She had emptied the box of scarves out on a bed and was holding several in front of her, examining the effect. "Ah ha. Thought so," Glennis grinned at Christy. "I'll go get the hot glue gun." She scampered out of the room. "What *is* Patt doing?" Monica was still confused. "Monica," Tiff said, trying to maintain patience. "If you were planning to attend a Harem party, what would you wear?" "Knickers and a macrame vest," Egrus burped as he caught up with the addicts. "Right for any occasion." Monica still looked puzzled. "Let's try this another way," Caren said, moving to stand in front of the woman. "Remember, she spent a lot of time around high school students, so she should connect with this." Caren took Monica by the shoulders and stared into the woman's brown eyes. "A-la-din." The lightbulb went on and Monica's smile broadened to startling wideness. "OH!" She began scooping scarves up off the bed. "I get the chocolate brown ones!" "I'm purple!" Ivy cried. "Black for me," Nite shouted, grabbing several hands full. "Hawaiian, Hawaiian," Tiff yelled, grabbing anything wild. "Hey, hey, hey!" Patt turned around and began swatting at the other addicts. "Leave those alone--they're mine!" "I got the gun!" Glennis announced, running back into the room. Several addicts hit the floor, covering their heads. Glennis stood there, staring at them, nonplussed. "Way too much television," she said, shaking her head. She grabbed several red scarves and began gluing them together. It wasn't long before the assembled addicts had ensembles worthy of a Lawrence of Arabia movie. Delighted with their new look, they frolicked around, fluttering their veils and flaunting their midriff adornments. "You look like a barber poll," Jesse commented, eyeing KC's two-tone outfit critically. "I couldn't make up my mind," KC explained. "I either wanted blazing scarlet or virgin white." Jesse cocked an eyebrow at the Kissing Cousin. "Red maybe . . . virgin white? No way." "But, that's the problem," KC whined. "Glennis grabbed most of the red ones and Caren filched a lot of the white, so I had to compromise." "Yeah, and if you think of it this way--blended together, it's Evil Pink," Jesse pointed out with a grin, then quickly ducked away from the suddenly outraged Kissing Cousin. And so, there they were, dressed and ready to party, prance, pilfer and generally make a nuisance of themselves. All except Patt. "Why aren't you outfitted?" Allie asked, admiring her own royal blue scarf collection. "No scarves left," Patt replied, holding up the empty box. "You all took them all." "But, it can't be a get-back-Patt's-stolen-truck raid without Patt," Dee cried. "Yeah," Nite concurred. "What's a *help Patt post* without a Patt?" "'My nature is subdu'd; To what it works in, like the dyer's hand.'" Patt looked down at Egrus, whose apparel consisted of several black handkerchiefs stitched together. The Third Cousin looked as though she really wanted to kick the bot. "That's it," Glennis snapped her fingers. "Okay, everybody. Lift a veil." Glennis reached down into her own flowing skirt and plucked one of the red scarves from her outfit. The other addicts did likewise and in a few moments, Patt had an costume. She looked like a rainbow. "I'm a Munchkin!" Egrus Toga squealed in delight. "I'm a punter," Patt replied, lifting her foot, going for at least thirty yards. Nite caught up the howling bot and hot-footed it out of the common room. As she raced past, Erik stepped inside with the ladies. "I'm ready," he announced. And, indeed he was. Erik, as usual, looked fabulous. He was attired totally in black--complete with banded puffed silk pants, boots, a long, flowing jacket and cowled headdress. Carefully emblazoned on the cheek (facial) not covered by his half mask, were several symbols which appeared to be Arabic in origin. "Oh . . . those are nice," Glennis said, reaching out to touch the young man's face. "Are they holy sign?" "Nope, traffic," Erik replied. "They're a layout of the Harem Headquarters. A . . . friend just got access to their website." The Nunkamale grinned broadly. He touched the scimitar at his side and announced. "I have a van waiting outside. Let's go Harem hopping." "Yeah!" the women shouted, running after Erik. Patt followed more slowly, shaking her head. "I just wanted to sneak in and find my truck," she muttered aloud. "And, somehow now, I don't think that's going to happen." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 02/03 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. --------- End Forwarded Message --------- *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HgjJ-00074L-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 00:56:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1800; Fri, 20 Aug 99 00:54:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7030; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 00:54:26 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 21:56:32 -0700 Reply-To: "Nancy A. Taylor" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knighties: "Second Thoughts" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e1eca6ffc0f3463d700ccd0216113961 Knighties: "Second Thoughts" by Nancy Taylor Place: Inside the Loft Time: Thursday, Aug. 19, 1999 (sometime when it doesn't conflict with anything else ) Knighties and Bons used with permission "Just *what* do you think you're doing?" Sandra snapped at the Knightie with her head stuck in trash bin. "Looking for the pieces of the PTD coupons," Nancy explained, pulling herself up from the bin holding several pieces of gold- embossed parchment. "You were stupid to tear those things up, you know ... and encourage the others to do the same!" "I didn't KNOW!" The Knightie Co-Leader whined. "Who knew you could trust the NAs?" "Well, if you'd asked me first, I could have told you," Sandra smirked. "There have been rumors all over the city of faction leaders putting their PTDs to good use. Here Bons goes and tries to do something really nice, and you throw it back in her face!" "I didn't throw it in her face!" Nancy retorted. "I tossed it in the air--right here!" She sighed. "With Jenn leaving us so abruptly, I suddenly feel a real need for one of these," she said, holding out the handful of scraps. "Not to mention *other* problems Roz and I are suddenly having to deal with. I feel guilty that I convinced her to tear hers up, too." "You should," Sandra told the angsting Knightie as she turned on her heel, leaving Nancy standing next to the trash. Walking over to the couch, Nancy sat down, spreading the pieces out before her. "There just don't seem to be enough pieces here for four coupons," she muttered, sorting through them. "Of course there aren't!" Eowyn walked up behind her. "Remember, Katrinka got so excited she scattered a big handful out the window. I think I saw someone gather them all up and run off." "Wonderful." The angsty co-leader began sorting out the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle before her. "Why did I have to tear them up so small??" "Need some help?" Vickie asked. "Me, too? I'm *really* good with jigsaw puzzles!" Eowyn added. "Yeah, sure." Vickie and Eowyn sat next to their friend, and the three began sorting through the pieces Nancy had managed to salvage. "I think these go together," Vickie said, taking a small piece of tape and securing the edges. "I found some more that match!" Eowyn crowed triumphantly, grabbing the tape and joining the pieces. A couple of hours, and lots of help later, one patched coupon (with a piece missing here and there) and a few leftover pieces lay on the coffee table in front of the exhausted Knighties. "I wonder if it will still work?" Vickie mused. "Well, I'm giving it to Roz. She deserves it more than I do!" Nancy exclaimed. "With any luck, she can still redeem it." "Redeem what?" Roz asked, walking up behind her fellow Knighties. "This," Nancy answered, handing over the ragged coupon. "You certainly deserve it more than I do. It was all my fault they got torn up in the first place." "Good old Knightie angsting," Roz laughed, accepting the patched parchment. "Whether or not it works, I do appreciate the thoughtfulness. Everyone makes mistakes, you know." "Well, here's hoping that's the last blunder I make this war!" A small smile curled the ends of her lips as Nancy looked heavenward, hoping her prayers were heard. ~fin~ Nancy A. Taylor War 10 -- Knightie Co-Leader From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hh2S-0007ff-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 01:16:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1871; Fri, 20 Aug 99 01:14:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8050; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 01:14:19 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 00:07:55 -0500 Reply-To: Amy Reed Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Amy Reed Subject: War: Harem: Preparing to Party To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 04de2eae8f2439160b164bc02eb5300d Title: Harem: Preparing to Party Date: Thursday, Aug. 19, 1999 Time: Morning and until party time Randora rose and dressed in her slacks ready to do some party decorating. She went downstairs, had a quick breakfast where she met up with the other Wives. Then they all scattered around the HQ to help the staff get the place ready to be invaded at 8:00 pm. As she entered the lobby and started toward her office, she noticed a couple of the staff hanging a banner over the registration desk. It had a non-smoking sign on either end, and in the middle read: Happy 6th Anniversary, Randora! She smiled at the thoughtful gesture and went on into her office to finish making arrangements and checking on any details that might have been overlooked. She finished making sure the valet would be there to park the cars, the doorman would show on time. She checked her list, the invitations had been sent out, waiters had been hired to see to the needs of the party goers and the cook had plenty of food on hand in case they were all hungry. She also double then tripled checked to be sure there would be *plenty* of chocolate. The parking valet and doorman arrived ahead of party time as they were requested to do. Randora looked them over and grinned, they would fit right in with the other male members of the staff. All of them hunks to the first degree. As time passed and the party drew nearer, she decided she had covered everything and started upstairs to get ready. She chose her burgundy pantsuit and put her long brown hair up into a chignon. She then picked up that odd little pendent she had found yesterday and using a silver chain, put it on as her necklace for the evening. There was something about it that appealed to her. She could almost feel the power radiating from it. She then descended the stairs and met up with the other Wives. Just then she heard the first arrivals coming up the steps to the front doors. *FIN* YFITK, Amy Knightie; Dark Knightie; GWDFC Number-One-Wife & Listowner of Nick's Harem; B.R.I.C.K. Listowner: FK-XStitcher -- "Cross-Stitcher of the Knight" fknight@acnet.net fknight@cyberweb.org - TexDKnght (IRC) Forever Knight Web Site: http://forever-knight.virtualave.net My Football page: http://members.tripod.com/~ReedStuff/nfl From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hh5G-0004Rg-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 01:19:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3590; Fri, 20 Aug 99 01:17:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8171; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 01:17:13 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 01:19:01 EDT Reply-To: WarVaq@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Rae Plachecki Subject: War: Vaq RSVP???? ACK!!!! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 680617235e58c26e9dac9d6224183999 Subject: War: Vaq RSVP??? ACK!!!! Time: Doesn't matter Where: The Shrine Who: Me Rae was having a quiet moment at the Shrine. "It's good to be at my second home, even if it is a disaster area for the moment" she thought. Thumbing through the upcoming calendar of events, something niggled at her subconscious. "Hmmm....we went shopping, made a disaster of the Church, attended the opening party at the Raven, hmmm....there's something I'm missing." Rae continued to thumb through her handy-dandy Vaq calendar. "Ohmigod!!!!!!!! The Karaoke party!!!!!! &*(#$^#*%@&$@$!!!!!!!! Where are those RSVP's we got????" Rae starts frantically tearing through the tons of half-written posts, the War posts she printed, and other sundry papers. "There not here!!!! ACK!!!!!!!!" She dumps out her purse. Amid the debris is crumpled up paper, cigarette lighters, a checkbook (that mysteriously bounced when it landed), gum, toothpicks, a comb....but no RSVP's. "Dagnabit!!!" Then it hits her. She left the RSVP's back at the Church. "Crap!!! Now how am I going to know who's coming to Karaoke Night at the Pitted Peach???" Rae hunkers down on the floor rubbing her temples in a circular motion. "I've got to concentrate, concentrate, concentrate." "Huh? Is there an echo in here, here, here?" "Okay, now I know that FoD's are coming. Hmmmm...oh yeah, and the Ravenette's too. Oh, and Cousin Mary said some DP's were coming, and I think some of the Urchins. That's it, tomorrow I'm gonna start taking some of that Gingkoba stuff!!!" Rae stares at her computer, realizing it has come to be her best friend lately (and worst enemy for that matter), and writes a post... "Attention all factions. The Vaqueros are hosting a Karaoke party this Saturday night at the newly opened Pitted Peach. Everyone is welcome to attend, and singing is a plus!!! If you would like attend, please send me an e-mail stating what faction you are in, who's attending, who's singing, and what song. If you plan on writing your own post for when you sing, please let me know so I can coordinate it with the rest of the attendee's. Thank you!!!" *sigh* "I sure hope that works!!" The End Rae JavietteV@aol.com From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HhM4-0003uO-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 01:36:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5875; Fri, 20 Aug 99 01:34:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8964; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 01:34:35 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 22:41:03 -0700 Reply-To: "Laura K. Griffin" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Laura K. Griffin" Subject: WAR: DP: Bidder-Sweet Offerings 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6ac8b0fb66bb939f7174e9f299494788 WAR: DP: Bidder-Sweet Offerings 01/01 by Laura Griffin Time: August 19, Thursday night Place: Dark Perk Mansion One by one, Laura checked each item off of her 'to do' list: "Polish dagger collection - check; vote for 'pineapple' in the Lifesavers poll - check; alphabetize memos cluttered on desk - check (actually, she'd given up on the alphabetizing and just thrown the stack away as most of them were about the previous war); dye new toga dark pink (Conversion Day is coming!!) - check!" Laura happily placed the list in the garbage then turned her attention to the computer. The screen saver flashed photographs of Lacroix across the screen, and the Dark Perk Thug/Addict smiled, reflecting on the previous evening when she'd attended a wonderful dinner with Lacroix and other members of Nunkies Anonymous (Names of other Addicts not listed here due to the idea that it really is supposed to be an anonymous group, right? Besides that, when Lacroix is in the author's presence, everyone else might as well be invisible! And besides *that*...the author didn't get permission to use anyone else's name, because she was too busy remembering just how wonderful Lacroix looks discussing venison...and snarling...). She closed her eyes and indulged herself in a bit of Lacroix-addicted reverie: He looked so good as a mortal! However, in spite of the fact that Detective Tracy Vetter thought that the vampires being mortal was a good thing, Laura really wanted to see Lacroix returned to his immortal, vampire self. "He's really too old and powerful to be just an ordinary mortal," she thought to herself. Laura's heart jumped at the sound of the clock striking the hour. She glanced in the clock's direction as it 'gonged' on and on and found that it was announcing the witching hour. "Good grief! I've run out of time!" But then she realized there was one more thing she just had to do. "Okay...come on, come on!" she coaxed the computer, hoping it would hurry its job of refreshing the information on the Vee-Bay auction site where 'Nunkies in Repose' ::sigh:: was being sold. With a sharp intake of breath, Laura gawked at the screen displaying the current high bid: Highest Bid: 35 Boston clips; 242 paperclips; 250 rubber bands, various sizes and colors; 96 Crylola crayons, unused, in box; three Furbly coloring books, mostly in good shape, except for the moustaches and devil's horns pencilled in by evil twin; 12 assorted coffee mugs; one extra large cappuccino mug, black; one box 360 3.5 disks, color coded; huge assortment of polished, shiny semi-precious stones; 256 books, including such interesting topics as vampires, catastrophic events, Alice in Wonderland, motorcycle matinence, werewolves, body modification and animal husbandry; three IBM compatible computers, networked; various spare computer parts, including harddrives, modems, and towers; three Champion racing banana slugs, Frank's Time Warp, General's Imperialus Propero, and Spot; two dictionaries, one Latin, one Klingon; packet of Killer Tomato seeds; one family membership to various zoos and animal parks around the US; five "There's Too Much Blood in My Caffeine System" bumper stickers; comic collection, all Tank Girl and Johnny the Homicidal Maniac issues. Bidder: deardelusion@xxxxxx.xxx "How in Milton's name am I ever gonna top this one?!" she whispered (with a whimper). "I just might end up losing my beloved Vault centerpiece!" She pouted at the thought that she would no longer be able to crawl into the Lacroix Vault that was her closet and admire the tapestry that once hung in the Addict's Shrine. "This is terrible!" she wailed to no one in particular. "Just the packet of Killer Tomato seeds alone is hard to top!" Laura's eyes glazed over as she pictured Mrs. Hitchcock making spaghetti from giant Killer Tomatoes; a vision of the resident DP scientist looming over killer tomato specimens interrupted a daydream of the demons learning to hum 'Puberty Love.' Suddenly, one of those demons interrupted her with a tap on the shoulder. "You're pretending to be a fanfic fairy, aren't you?" Laura asked the little pink glob. The demon didn't answer; it did, however, jump on top of the computer monitor and brandish a tiny camera. Very dramatically, the demon made a hand motion that was international for 'smile'.....or in this particular case 'say CHEESE' is more appropriate. There was a bright flash. Because Laura had to appear in someone else's post at almost any given moment! ----------Can you bid on the tapestry? Just ask me how!---------------- Cousin Laura -- The Dark CERK Perk http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Portal/6866/Laura.htm "Even though you're refracted, you're still you." -- 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile' From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HiGW-0005FN-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 02:35:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6073; Fri, 20 Aug 99 02:32:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1857; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 02:32:55 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 02:36:13 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: Knightie War Council (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 133588f6b90c93891c93d6f105e394b6 Knightie War Council by Sandra Gray Time: Aug 14th, 2 a.m., directly after Video Voyeurs Place: the Loft Named Knighties and Nick used with permission. The Knighties filed into the loft and over to the couch where Nick sat. Knightie Co-Leader Chris sat on one side of him, 2IC Nancy on the other, and both scooted closer to him as two other Knighties squeezed onto each end of the couch. Chris picked up a cup of the cocoa Nick had made from the tray on the coffee table and said, "I think it's time we had a Knightie War Council, Nick." She was glad she had put a piece of screen over the broken skylight. The Faraday cage would protect this meeting from eavesdroppers. More Knighties picked up cups and sprawled on the chairs, the cots, and the floor. "Well, I guess we know now why the other factions are in town," said Nancy. "You were listening?" asked Nick. "We were watching on the surveillance monitors," said Chris. Nick's face colored slightly. "Nick, you know we're all here to help you." Everyone was silent for a moment. Then Chris F. said, "I thought the vampires at the party didn't seem quite right." "What do you mean?" asked Knightie Co-Leader Chris. "Those I saw seemed...bothered. I bumped into one and he seemed...warm." She shrugged. "I thought I had just imagined it." "I can't believe that all vampires everywhere became mortal from Nick using the amulet," said Katrinka. "That seems far-fetched to me too," said Sandra. "We need to find out if the effect was that wide-reaching or not. Maybe it just affected vampires in Toronto. Although I can't imagine LaCroix being mortal." "He didn't show up when I became cured," said Nick. "He should have." "Maybe he did. You were unconscious," said Sandra. "What other explanation could there be for why he hasn't come around?" asked Nick. The rosiness faded from his face. "You don't think I'm still--" "No." Sandra hastened to assure him that she didn't think he was a still a vampire. But it did bother her that Nick had heard nothing from LaCroix. "Was LaCroix at the party last night?" None of the party Knighties could remember having seen him. "You don't think LaCroix took the amulet," said Chris. "Why would he?" Nick stood up and the Knighties on the floor had to scramble back as he stode over to the fireplace. He ran his hand through his hair and turned back to the group. "To figure out what I did. To find out how to undo it." "He could undo it by biting you," said Sandra, unwilling to consider LaCroix mortal without proof. "If he's still immortal, that'd be too easy." Nick's brow creased. "Besides, he wouldn't--" He turned back to the fireplace and placed his arm across the mantle. "Nick, we don't know that he took it. Maybe it's still here in the loft somewhere. We'll do a thorough search," said Nancy. "Is there anything else you can tell us about the Galen's cube?" "No," said Nick. "I didn't really do a lot of research on it." He blushed again. "We should try to find out more about it then," said Nancy. "Something to start tomorrow," said Chris. "Anyone have any other ideas or concerns?" Sandra squirmed a little in her leather chair. "Um, what about the Enforcers?" "What about them?" asked Chris. "If the amulet only cured vampires within a certain radius, what are they going to do when they find out about this?" Nick looked at Sandra, then at the other Knighties. "None of you could go up against them. But there'd be no reason for them to get involved." "Yeah, they protect the secret of vampires getting out," said Chris F, the Knight Nurse. "What vampire would tell them they'd become mortal?" said Katrinka. "They could all be mortal too, for all we know." added Zoe. Everyone fell silent. Chris finally said, "Is that it, then?" "Well, we should always leave a couple of Knighties guarding in the loft at all times," said Nancy. "Agreed. Anything else?" No one else said anything. Chris exchanged glances with Nancy and said, "Okay, I guess we should start a search for the cube then and leave the rest until tomorrow." She stood. The Knighties dispersed in different directions. Nick stood and watched for a moment, then headed for the garage stairs. Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HiHi-0006Vp-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 02:36:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3911; Fri, 20 Aug 99 02:34:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1915; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 02:34:05 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 02:25:41 EDT Reply-To: MissMin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Mindy D." Subject: WAR: Knighties: A Knight out To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6d5147f49884fd1bcc9d3072b1e6d0d2 War: Knighties: A Knight out (1/1) Time: Just before and during the Harem party, August 19th Place: The Loft and Harem HQ Written by: Knighties Mindy and Gemsong All players used with permission ~~~~~ Tonight was the night. The Harem party. Nick would be escorting two Knighties to it. Gemsong and Mindy had spent the earlier part of the evening dashing about finding something perfect to wear and figuring out something to do with their hair. Gem made her way out of the temporary dressing area downstairs first. She was wearing a strapless blue dress, fitted to the waist, with the skirt reaching just below her knees in front and gradually flowing in a cascade in back to where the hem barely touched the ground. Mindy finally stepped out of another area a few minutes later. She was dressed in a sleeveless royal blue dress that fell to just above her knees and sported a square neckline. It accented her hourglass figure nicely and a pair of dressy black heeled sandals finished the ensemble. Her long auburn hair was curled into ringlets and pulled up, so that a few wispy tendrils hung at various spots around her face, which softened the overall look. The two Knighties stood before each other and complemented each others outfits as they waited for Nick to make his appearance from upstairs. "Nick, are you ready yet?" Called Gem. "We don't want to be really late for Randora's party." They were already 'fashionably late' a good twenty minutes. She leaned over to Mindy and whispered, "And men say women take forever to get ready!" Nick appeared at the top of the stairs and descended two at a time, to the whoops and whistles of approval from various Knighties. He looked fantastic in his blue silk shirt and black, well fitting jeans. For a few moments Gemsong and Mindy were quite happy just to stand and take in the sight of him. Their oggle-fest was interrupted by a Knightie who called out, "Nick the limo is here." "Well, we don't want to be late for Randora's party do we?" Nick said with a charming smile, as he ushered the two Knighties toward the door. "Of course not." Mindy replied and the trio headed out of the loft, Nick firmly ensconced between the two women, one on each arm. Just before they reached the door, Nancy caught Mindy by the arm and whispered, "Take care of him tonight. His new found mortality and all those women..." She trailed off shaking her head. "And watch his eating, we don't need a repeat of the cookie aftermath." Mindy smiled, "Don't worry, between Gem and I, we'll keep him safe." Just as the trio were getting into the waiting car, another Knightie appeared, rushing from the loft. Sandra had decided she'd like to attend the shindig. She approached the waiting trio wearing a short sleeved green tunic, and pleated skirt that flattered her ample figure. Low healed black pumps completed the ensemble. "If I may I'd like to join you guys tonight?" "Sure!" Gem said. And with that they were headed for the party. The ride was uneventful, with Mindy, Gem and Sandra doing their best to engage in small talk with Nick, while at the same time keep themselves from drooling on his silk shirt. (A monumental task considering....they *are* Knighties. And Nick thinks he has to exert a lot of control around a certain coroner! Ha! The three Knighties had a much harder task.) Alas the limo ride was soon over...much too soon for the said Knightie trio. More time with Nick in a limo was definitely on their 'to do' list. Their arrival at Harem HQ turned quite a few heads, and Min, Gem and Sandra were on cloud nine as Nick helped them from the limo. Nick again escorted Gemsong and Mindy, one on each arm with Sandra walking beside them. Inside they were met by Randora, who positively glowed at the sight of her favorite vamp, er ex-vampire. She lead them to a couch, and she and Nick took a seat while Gemsong and Mindy stood at each side, Sandra behind the couch. Nick presented Randora with a gift in honor of both of them being now smoke free. Randora's being of the tobacco variety, whilst Nick's was of the 'I no longer sizzle in the sun' variety. Randora was delighted when the opened box revealed a pair of Raybans After the presentation of Randora's gift, The three Knighties retreated to mingle with some of the other guests, but always keeping Nick in their line of sight, to give Randora time to chat a bit with Nick alone (or as alone as you can get with Nick and a room full of Nick adoring women). After Nick finished his chat with Randora, he returned to his Knighties and with a flourish asked, "Shall we dance?" Each Knightie took her turn in heaven, dancing with Nick across the floor. And thereafter he danced with each of the Harem members, with a short break in between every couple dances for a little refreshing punch. After a few hours of these refreshing nips of punch, Mindy and Gem began to notice a definite change in Nick's ability to...well, to be Nick. A little stumble here, a knock knock joke there... Mindy and Gem looked at each other with wide eyed horror and mouthed, 'Someone spiked the punch!' Their beloved Nick Knight was royally schnockerd. Each Knightie excused herself from conversations and made a beeline for Nick. Sandra followed as soon as she managed to get away from her current dance partner. "Time to head for the limo?" Mindy asked. "I believe so," Gem said with a sigh. She still hadn't managed to confront that fellow in the corner, who'd been staring at the Knighties all evening! They began to make their way toward the exit, Gem and Min again ensconced on each arm of Nick, this time guiding him so he did not stumble. Randora spied the early exit attempt and moved toward them to intercept. "HiRandorawonderfulpartybutMinandIarekindatiredsoNickistakingushomenow," Gem rushed as they all but carried Nick out the door before he managed another tasteless knock knock joke. They managed to get Nick in the limo and climbed in and just sat there for a moment and looked at Nick, who was still smiling happily and moving to music only he heard. It took a couple moments before he noticed his surroundings had changed. "Heeey! Why'd we hafta leave the party? It was just getting fu- fun!" From her perch across from Nick, Mindy leaned in to Nick and cupped his face gently so that he looked right at her. "Nick you are sooo sloshed!" He stared blankly at her for a moment. "I am not!" "Eight hundred years old and still, typical male." Gem muttered from her seat right next to Nick, Sandra nodded her agreement. "All I had was a little punch." Nick said to his defense. "Uh huh," Gem nodded. "Ala Captain Morgan." "Yes, you are." Mindy said simply and seated herself across from him again. "Do you know what could have happened to you in there with all those women Nick?" Nick waggled an eyebrow garishly at her and followed it up with his wonderful boyish grin and put his arms around the two Knighties seated on either side of him. She looked to her friend. "How do ya think Nancy will want our heads Gem?" She asked pinching the bridge of her nose. Gem cringed at the thought, hung her head then dutifully told the driver to head for the nearest Buckstars. At Min's look, Gem shrugged. "Well, we can at least attempt to sober him up a bit before we go face our death." Min shook her head and laughed. "At least we'll never forget this." "Nancy won't let us," Quipped Gem as they pulled up to the favorite coffee house of Toronto. -END- From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HiMC-0005O3-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 02:40:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3926; Fri, 20 Aug 99 02:38:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2108; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 02:38:47 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 02:42:05 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: Knighties: Private Counsel To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6a3107cc2e4e2e80a17ac51ade411543 WAR: Knighties: Private Counsel by Sandra Gray Time: Aug 14th, directly after "Knightie War Council" Place: The Loft Nick used with permission. Sandra watched Nick disappear through the door to the garage. She sighed. She'd worried him. She didn't like having done that, but her mind was unfortunately prone to practical and logical thinking, even tending to the pessimistic. She bit her lip, then went in pursuit of him. Nick was walking around the caddy, apparently intent on inspecting it for dings or bumps. Sandra got quite close to him before he noticed her. He took a startled step back. "Sorry," said Sandra, smiling a little. "Guess your hearing's not what it used to be, huh?" Nick smiled a crooked smile. "No. Guess not." He turned back to run his hand along the driver's side rear light assembly. "Nick," started Sandra. "I'm sorry if I upset you with anything I said." "It's okay. Your concerns were realistic." "You told me once that you had plans for protecting you and Nat if you became mortal. Maybe it's time to follow those plans." Nick looked at Sandra. "It might not be necessary. LaCroix might be mortal." "We don't know that. But if he is, if many other vampires are mortal too, well, I imagine there'd be some that wouldn't be too happy about that, would they?" Nick frowned at her. "No." "Think about your plans, Nick. Even if it means leaving. You deserve a shot at happiness." "Do I?" Sandra reached her right hand up to touch his warm cheek. Her eyes filled with tears and two spilled down over her cheeks. "Yes," she whispered. Then she turned away and left him there. Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Fri Aug 20 06:35:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hjhx-00053t-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 04:07:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2249; Fri, 20 Aug 99 04:05:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2841; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 04:05:18 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 01:07:07 -0700 Reply-To: Allie Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Allie Subject: WAR:N/A: A Rat's Advice (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 74b53deb2b45099d02d826c31de80f0c A Rat's Advice by Allie This post takes place in the Vaq's Church, early morning after the dinner with Nunkies. An unnamed Addict is used without her permission. The rat reprises his role. Allie woke up to the smell of bacon and coffee. It didn't help. She rolled over painfully in her sleeping bag. "Oh I am SO sick of hard floors!" she grumbled. "Good morning!" a tiny voice sing-songed nearby. "Its a shame you can't fit in this cage. The shavings are lovely and soft." Allie sighed. "Whisper, please. I don't want the other Addicts to hear you. Although I don't know why. If someone else heard you speak I'd know for certain that I'm not insane." "I don't see the logic in that at all," the rat laughed. "I squeak, therefore I am. It proves nothing about your sanity. I would prefer to keep my secret, though. Discretion keeps vampires alive. So how was your dinner with...Nunkies?" he asked distainfully. "Rowwwrrrr," Allie purred, closing her eyes. "Pah!" the rat replied. "Nunkies, Nunkies, Nunkies! I just don't see the attraction." "That's because you're the wrong sex!" Allie explained. "Speaking of sex, see if you can find me a book on breeding rats, mice or hamsters. Preferably one with pictures." "Tsk! Tsk!" "It was very boring while you were off to dinner last night," he complained quietly. "The batteries on the videogame gave out." "Oh dear," Allie apologized. "I should have bought spares." "Please do it today," the rat said. "And I'll need more books. And how about one of those puzzle magazines? Make sure you find a small pencil for me." Allie had attempted to keep the rat happy by buying a set of tubes and a wheel to attach to the cage, but the rat had only laughed. 'I don't need a gym, Allie. I asked for entertainment!' This had led to her buying small hand-held videogames and books for the rodent. She left them open outside the cage and he turned the pages using a popsicle stick. The only problem was that Addicts suffering from TV Withdrawal were likely to pick up the books and carry them off. Allie solved this problem by buying boring how-to books marked down to sell, then moving their dust-jackets onto the rat's romance and adventure stories. 'Lady Chatterly's Lover' was now titled 'Redesigning Bathrooms'. "That damned cat came in here and stared at me for hours last night," the rat went on. "Why don't you two talk to each other?" Allie asked. "You have so much in common!" "Allie, I know you'd like to be a vampire but I honestly don't think you'd make it," the rat replied. "You're far too naive. You want everyone to be friends. I'm surprised you haven't organized a peace rally to end this War. "Now that the cat is mortal, he wants my flesh and blood. When we eventually become vampires again, he'll still want my blood. My only hope will be to fly far from his territory. I can appreciate his point of view, because I am also a killer." "I don't want to hear it," Allie interrupted but the rat would not be stopped. "How do you think I survived over two hundred years? By preying on mice, moles, baby chicks--" "Please!" she covered her ears. "See?" he said. "What kind of vampire would you make? I can see you now, sucking the juice out of packets of meat in the grocery store." Suddenly an Addict stuck her head in the room. "Who the hell are you talking to Allie? Yourself? Are you losing it?" "Uh, the rat's wheel was keeping me awake," Allie fibbed. "You're supposed to be awake! We have a lot to do today," she replied unsympathetically. "Get your ass out of bed." The rat giggled after she left. "She told you, didn't she? But I would have said, 'Get your ass out of Toronto, Allie. Away from this city and away from Nunkies. Before the vampires get their powers back and some fool makes your dream come true.' Have you ever noticed how nightmares start off merely as dreams?" END __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com From - Fri Aug 20 06:35:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HlSq-0000NZ-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 06:00:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4417; Fri, 20 Aug 99 05:57:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8191; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 05:57:54 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 03:10:12 -0500 Reply-To: Padawan Caeryn Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Padawan Caeryn Subject: WAR: DP: Burp the Magnificent To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bef776401d80f8eb9aa81dcf1025dcc4 WAR: DP: Burp the Magnificent TIME: Tuesday 08/17/99 PM PLACE: DP Mansion by Caeryn Myer ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The situation was swiftly becoming intolerable. Those blasted Dark Perks had no clue just who they were messing with here. Seriously irritated, Burp the pink demon paced the small confines of his hidey hole near Rose's room trying to think of a plan. After all, he was Burp. Commander of the multitudes, General of the Demons, High Commander of All Pinkdom. And yet they refused to give him the respect. As much respect a hopped up pink demon trapped in a mansion with bleeding walls could get. He chittered in annoyance... something would have to be done... * * * Flashback: Tuesday Afternoon General Burp strode purposefully through the halls of the DP mansion, his actual movement more of a waddle, stubby legs cursing the demon to an eternal Penguin Shuffle. Atop his round pink head was a paper hat folded like a child's play boat. Unfortunately, the hat didn't want to stay put on his brow, his steps causing the front point to slide down in front of his eyes. Looking around for his cohorts, he stopped, never relaxing his imperial manner for a second. Had any of the DPs have walked by they would have no doubt stopped to admire his regal demeanor. Or snicker at the askew boat hat and continue on their way to the kitchen for more coffee. A faint shuffling sound caused Burp to whirl around, unsettling his hat even further. Pushing the affectation back onto his head and assuming what he hoped was a commanding stance, he regarded the small group of demons that had crept up behind him. They seemed very curious about his odd behaviour. As he surveyed their rather slovenly and casual ranks a small glimmer of inspiration lit his eyes... * * * Caeryn was about ready to give up. She and Cat had split up earlier to look for the vanished Burp and his abducted lab experiment. They had empied cupboards, climbed under stairs, crawled on hands and knees around the shrines, and still there was no sign of the little guy. It occured to her that they may be going about this in the wrong way. By this point, Burp had probably lost all interest in the blue sparkly stuff within the jar and had no doubt just dropped it somewhere. But she still had no idea what the stuff did and that worried her more than a little. Sighing, she pulled her head out of the dusty cabinet she had been inspecting, sneezing from years worth of dust. So what now? Where should she check next? About the only place left was the basement and her mind shuddered from the implications of inspecting the jell-o. Arching her spine back, she grunted slightly as bones snapped into place like a bowl of Rice Krispies. Picking herself up from her kneeling position, she tried not to wince as the protesting muscles screamed their objection. A day of stooping to inspect dark corners was taking its toll. The DP Padawan wandered out of the room aimlessly, putting off a foray into the Mansion basement and it's pink Morpheus jell-o. She paused at the banister in the hall, idly looking down over the rail into the main foyer. She froze at the sight that greeted her. The checkerd tile of the foyer was dotted with the squirming forms of a dozen pink demons holding what appeared to be some sort of drill practice. They were arrayed in four ranks, three demons in each rank. At a gurgled command they all started to move forward. Several minor push-fights errupted in the ranks as demons began to step on the other's feet, much to the irritation of the commanding officer. Caeryn sucked in her breath at the sight of the mini-general fuming from his vantage atop a convenient table. It was Burp. It had to be. Or at least she hoped it was... it was kinda hard to tell with the piece of origami on his head. Quickly backing away from the bannister to avoid being seen, she pondered her alternatives, waiting for the right moment to slip down the stairs. Below, Napoleon Burp-apart was attempting to restore order to his feuding ranks, apparently perfectly satisfied to continue their general melee. Burp needed something to catch their attention. The little demon's eyes caught sight of a small object laying atop the end of the entryway table. Penguin walking over, he picked it up, taking it back to his vantage point. It was pretty shiny, etched with gold and silver designs. Just about to bang it against the top of the table to get the attention of his troops, Caeryn grabbed him, having crept up unnoticed during his peace keeping attempts. He squirmed valiantly, furious at the DP's nerve to grab him in front of his comrades. Keeping a firm clasp on the indignantly writhing pink blob, Caeryn made a hurried exit, hoping to avoid the notice of the other demons. When they were out of sight of the foyer, she brought the squirming mass up to eye level and inspected him curiously. He seemed to be undamaged, not that the demons seeme to be vulnerable. But there was no sight of the lab jar. Giving him a hard look she continued to hold him for a minute, then realizing he probably didn't even remember where he'd stashed the bottle, she deposited him atop a convenient bookshelf with a sigh. Back to square one. It could definitely wait till tomorrow. Now that she knew Burp no longer had the jar on his "person" she wasn't as worried about it. She was fairly certain it wasn't in the air conditioning system or anywhere in the kitchen; both she and Cat had prudently checked there first and it was unlikely Burp would have returned there to hide it. A shower was definitely in order, followed by a relaxing evening in front of her TV and VCR. She had gone almost a week without watching the trilogy, an offense of capital magnitude in her other fandom circle. Why, she hadn't even been to the theatre since arriving in Toronto to see the latest installment of the sci-fi hit, even after Shana had secured tickets to the digital presentation. * * * Back to current day... Coming to a halt mid-pace, Burp stomped a pink foot down in frustration. Nothing. He couldn't think of a single thing that would strike fear and respect into the heart of the insolent over-caffinated DPs. And gurgling "kaniggits, kaniggits" only got a chorus of "Nee!" shouted at him. Well, he wasn't about to take defeat lying down. At least not at this hour. The least he could do was get back at that crazy one who had been chasing him all day. Walking over to the irregular opening in the wall that served as a door, he picked up his hat and the small bauble from the foyer table in passing. It really was very pretty, in a geometric sort of way. Maybe it could fix his standing in the eyes of his fellow demons, the eyes of the mansion's human inhabitants aside. He slipped the chain around his neck and perched the now beat up hat atop his head, then moved in the direction of Caeryn's room confidently in the mincing steps of his imperial Penguin Shuffle step. Slipping through the passageways big enough only for the small squishable demons, Burp approached the room of the blissfully unaware Thug. He wasn't sure exactly what he was going to do, but he figured something would occur to him once he got to her room. Once in the room, he dived under the bed. Brilliant plan as it was, the paper hat fell to the ground, irrevocably crumpled under his pudgy body. Deciding that a he could find another hat, the leader of all pinkdom squirmed his way to the edge of the bed...and froze. It was not the sight of the avidly enraptured DP sitting with her eyes glued to the screen, nor the wealth of potential her complete unawareness presented for the sceming demon. Instead, Burp's eyes were caught by the hypnotic sight that lay on the screen of the TV. Now that was the way to get respect. The black cape was the perfect touch. Scooting back from the edge of the bed, he pondered his options. Over to one side of the bed, under a pile of rumpled clothes, Burp spied the Duffle Bag O' Doom that went with every DP on their travels. Nose twitching, he shuffled over and started rummaging through it looking for what he would need. Blissfully ignorant of the intruder, Caeryn continued to watch the screen before her, failing to notice as her duffle bag shuddered and slid under the bed.... ||::;;::||=====================> Caeryn, the DP Padawan -- "Cry havoc, and let loose the [Pink Demons] of War" ;-) From - Fri Aug 20 06:35:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HlyG-0004eY-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 06:32:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6626; Fri, 20 Aug 99 06:30:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9739; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 06:30:17 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 01:42:08 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP: Frame Job (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b2dd91bd928769b852ee112cfabbc041 WAR: DP: Frame Job (2/2) Place: the precinct Time: Thursday the 18th, late night By: Cousin Mary Tracy hauled the MiB into the precinct and practically threw him against the booking desk. "I -demand- you tell me what the hell is going on!" The MiB growled as Tracy held his arm at a most uncomfortable angle, "You have no right to-" "Okay, that's enough!" Capt. Reese bellowed as he walked over and looked the now silent man up in down, from his black silk PJs to his black bunny slippers, oh yeah, this guy was a grade A creep alright. "Vetter," He turned his attention to one of his star detectives, "This the guy?" "Yeah Cap," Tracy shifted to grab the warrant from her pocket, she handed the paper to Reese, "Right there." Reese quickly scanned the document, he nodded, "Yeah, I've heard of this guy. Saw him that new 'CopNet' Site." He folded the paper carefully and placed it on the desk, he then looked the MiB straight in the face, "People like you just make me sick." The MiB bristled dangerously, "And you, sir, have no idea who you are dealing with." He hissed. "Oh yeah I do," Reese nodded, "Real name Beauregard "Bubba" Sassafras, of Mobile Alabama." The MiB's jaw dropped. "Wanted," Reese continued, "For polygamy and..." Reese's eyes got hard, "41 counts of failure to pay child support." "Make you feel good to leave all those women and kids without support?" Tracy 'accidentally' bumped his arm, sending white shots of pain shooting through him. "Does it, huh?" "My good woman," The MiB insisted, "I never-" Just then, 'Phase Two' went into effect. "Dont ya'll go tellin' them poe-lice officers none o' yer wild tails Bubba!" Ren, the DP's very own Dark Pink Ninja, stepped forward. Only instead of her usual pink gi, she was clad in Daisy Dukes, a pink and white gingham top (tied off, just above her navel) and a pair of well-worn cork high heel sandal. "Me en soma tha youngin's have done come all this way ta see ya gets yers and there ain't no gosh dern way yall be gettin' out of it wit none a yer sweet talkin'!" "I assume you remember your wife Ellie Mae Sassafras?" Reese arched a brow at the MiB, "Your 5th wife? Though I hear you never bothered to divorce the first 4." Those at the desk then turned toward the waiting area, where a small raggedy army consisting of Ren and the DP teen terrors (all dressed like extras from 'the Revenge of the Bayou') stood. "You always were a no good pa!" Andrea stepped forward, sobbing (maybe a tad too dramatically) at the MiB. The 5 other DP teens all voiced similar opinions. Martin cringed at Ren and the teens terrible attempts at Southern Drawls. Oh well, Reese didn't seem to notice, though Tracy did look... uh-oh, she recognized them. Suddenly Martin found himself being hauled into a nearby hall by his favorite detective. "You DPs better have a good explanation for this!" Tracy hissed at him crossly, "I'm all for your little war, but -not- when it comes to screwing with my job, do you understand?" "But-" Martin tried to get a word in, but the cop wouldn't let him. "I will not let you put some innocent man through this kind of thing," Tracy shoved her bangs out of her eyes, "Simply because he's in a different faction!" "He's not -just- in another faction!" Martin blurted out, casting a quick worried look back towards the desk, but luckily they were all too caught up in Ren and company's theatrics to have noticed his out burst. He looked back at Tracy, who was waiting less than patiently for him to explain, "He's an Enforcer, the -head- Enforcer. As in the guy who'll," He made a cutting motion across his own neck, "Anyone who finds out about-" He mimicked biting something. "You mean he's an Enforcer?" Tracy's eyes went wide, "A real one, not a fan of them?" "No, a real one!" Martin nodded, "He's mortal now, but wasn't always." "I see," Tracy said quietly, she looked down at the MiB, who looked absolutely horrified as SNB (who's purple hair was covered with a wig that looked to be from a production of Pipi Longstockings) sobbed on him about how he'd missed her tap dance recital. Well, she couldn't have the vampire arrested for the countless cold blooded murders he'd 'enforced,' but she could see him put away for a long time. "Come on," She led Martin back to the front desk, the others hadn't even noticed them leaving. "Beau, you never were no good at much," Ellie Mae (aka Ren) continued, then glanced at all the kids, "Well, maybe at one thang." "All right," Reese straighten, "I've heard enough, book him!" "Wait! No!" The MiB struggled as two burly uniforms hauled him off to be deloused, "I am not married to that woman! Those brats are not my children!" "Yeah, he -would- say that," Reese mumbled, before heading back to his office to call Denise and tell his wife her how much he loved her. "Men," Ren snorted, still in character. Tracy's quick glare, however, cut off her next comment. "Did Mary and Shana know you guys were planning this?" The blonde detective demanded her oddly dressed faction. "Um, we didn't really," Carly hedged, fingering the hem of her black vinyl mini, taking off her shades, "They're at a party you see and..." "Call them," Tracy ordered, she sighed and relaxed somewhat, "You all have ways to get home?" She asked, realising Carly and Martin had ridden over with her. "Yeah," Ren nodded, thinking of the Pinkmobile they'd redone as the General Lee for just the occasion (though no one saw it to appreciated it, I'd thought I'd mention it ;-) "Good," Tracy sent a nasty thought at the paperwork waiting on her desk, "You guys have a safe ride home." "Yes Tracy." "Bye Tracy." "See ya Tracy." Just as they were about out the door, she stopped them again, "Wait," When the turned she smiled slightly, "Next time, tell me what's up, huh? I'm not too fond of secrets, you know." The Thugs all looked terribly guilty and nodded as one. "We will." Tracy watched them go, a genuine smile softening her face. "Oh yeah, she could lay on a guilt trip like -nobody's- business. Plus," She giggled slightly, "It -had- been a pretty great attack!" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cousin Mary ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 20 06:45:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hm6i-0004tj-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 06:41:12 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6647; Fri, 20 Aug 99 06:39:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0119; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 06:39:03 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 01:42:16 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP: Frame Job (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9032c572477411fc5e555f8a418266ad WAR: DP: Frame Job (1/2) Place: Enforcement HQ and the precinct Time: Thursday the 18th, late night By: Cousin Mary "Are they gone yet?" Eric asked, pulling on his new black duster and slipping on his wrap-round shades. Sure the DP Godmommy Mary and her second-in-command Shana were wonderful leaders, but as a DP, Eric and the rest felt it was their duty to go behind their backs occasionally. Just out of sheer dark perkiness. As it was, neither Mary nor Shana had the slightest clue what was on tonight's agenda. And Tracy only knew about half. Eric smirked as he slipped a copy of the warrant into his pocket, just in case. Carly leaned out the window (and nearly fell two stories) before popping back in, "Yep, their on their way to the Harem party with Jenny3." The red head grinned hugely, straightening her ultra-hip midriff baring black top and thigh-high Prada boots. She looked around at the rest of the Thugs gathered in the second floor gallery, everyone one looked perfect! Sleek, polished,... they had that whole Avengers/Mod Squad/Get Smart look going. Very cool and very nearly funky. "The cats are officially away!" Maya beamed, checking her spiked blue hair in the mirror one last time. "The mice can play!" She grabbed her bulging duffel bag and headed for the door. "Wait a sec!" Caeryn was still leaning over her laptop, adding the final hacks to a certain computer network, "Kay, all done." She stood, smiled in triumph, and strode toward the group, her long black skirt floating elegantly, while the tight wine coloured top and silver belly chain clung like a second skin, she slipped on her shades. "Great," June drained the last of her coffee before joining the DP on the second floor landing. She turned as Martin and Laura came down from their rooms. Hair slicked back, shades on, both looked ready for a night of pure unadulterated DP fun. They'd gotten word from one of Tracy's snitches that someone was trying to frame them, using bunnies and the color pink in ways that threatened to trash the DP's reputation. And heck! Only the DP were allowed to trash the DPs reputation! "Whoa," Martin let out a low whistle as he caught sight of their little group in the sliver mirror. They looked like an ad for RayBans!(tm) Dressed in mostly black, with silver and dark pink accents, they were dressed to the nines and beyond. "Are we ready?" Laura asked, glancing down where she could just barely see in through the study's doors. Oh boy, the DP teen terrors and Ren were definitely -not- looking quite as hip as them. Oh well, they had their part, and they had theirs. "We're supposed to meet Tracy there at a quarter after midnight, right?" "Yep," Maya nodded, hitting 'play' on her boom-box, 'the Matrix' soundtrack roared to life, "And -now- we're ready." "Oh yeah," June smiled, leading the way down the wide staircase and out to the garage. Tonight was far from over. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The DP Harleys and Tauruses arrived out front of the Enforcerments headquarters just as Tracy was pulling up. She waved and paused in front of the doors to talk with them. "What are you supposed to be?" Tracy arched a brow and smiled as she took in her faction's 'look,' "Bounty hunters from beyond Thunderdome?" "Call me Boba Caeryn," The geology/film major grinned. Tracy rolled her eyes, made sure she had a copy of the warrant, and then opened the door to the office building. Luckily it this day and age of global technology, a lot of huge office complexes like this were open 24 hours a day... either that, or someone had forgotten to lock the door. Either way, they were in. "Kay, where are their offices?" "Um," Martin paused, admiring the way his duster swooshed around him. "Basement levels 1 and 2." "How do you know that?" Carly asked him wide eyed. Martin just shrugged and winked at her, that slow southern charm just oozing out, "I have my ways." Carly blinked, "Oookaaay." "Alright, 'nuf witty banter, let's go bash some heads!" Laura fairly ran towards the basement steps and raced down them, barely suppressing the war cry. The others had no choice but to follow. They came up just shy of the Enforcement's front door, white and nondescript, they almost walked straight by. That was, before Maya noticed the small black 'e' right in the center. "Hmm, must be the place." Tracy looked up and down the sterile, windowless hallway, "Has that warm, homey feel doesn't it?" She quipped. "Kay, so let's do it!" Eric reared back a leg and side kicked the door, "Police! Open up!" "Eric!" Tracy yelled, trying to stop the over-eager Thug as he bashed down the door, but to no avail, the hinges gave and the aluminum door went crashing to the ground. "Geez, usually we -knock- first Eric." She said dryly, as the rest of the DPs just stared open mouthed. "What the-?! Our door!" Enforcement leader Raven stalked over to the door and made a few wide hand gestures to show just how unexpectable this whole thing was. "You can't just go-" "Here, does this smell funny to you?" Martin stepped forward and waved a flask of something under Raven's nose, and without thinking, she sniffed. Soon she was deeply immersed in a flashback about how great peanut butter and jelly sandwich tasted when she was 6. Maya hit the boom box again and the DPs all went striding in. "This is -not- procedure!" Tracy griped, moving her hand in front of Raven's face a few times. But other than mumble "mmm, grape" the woman didn't move. The cop sighed, oh well, she knew whatever Martin had done wasn't permanent, the Flashback Juice the chemists had developed would only last a few minutes. And, the guy they were after tonight had been evading the law a very long time. If this was the only way they could get him, and as long as no one got hurt... Tracy looked up and saw that other Enforcerment faction members were swaying with similar thoughtful expressions on their faces. Kim looked like she was remembering an infinitely complicated chess match. JenZub, a really great pair of shoes she'd seen in Houston but never been able to find in her size. Steve was remembering a particularly nice Pinot Gris. Maria... something about variable skull widths in Australopithecus. 'Whoa, the DP worked quick!' Tracy thought. "All right, so where is the creep?" Eric pointed at the trail of hot wing crumbs, "I'd say that away." Tracy strode down the hall and opened a door, there she saw an older man, the Enforcer's very own figurehead, 'the Man in Black' laying in a bed... snoring. His black clad form was illuminated only by a small TV blaring static throughout the otherwise dark room. Tracy cleared her throat, he didn't stir. "Oh this is just great." She cracked, then decided to take advantage of this situation, she walked over and rolled him to his side, slapping on a pair of cuffs. Finally the man began to stir, "Wh-what's going on here!" He demanded, sneering at them all as he jumped to his feet. "Who let you in here?! Who are you-" "I'm Detective Tracy Vetter," Tracy said matter-of-factly, "And you're under arrest. Come with me now and we won't add 'resisting arrest' to your -lengthy- list of charges." And with that, she took his arm and led to her car, Martin and Carly trailing behind to make sure he didn't try and bolt. The rest of the DPs, suddenly found themselves with some free time. And idle hands -are- the DPs favorite play things... "Maya, you bring them?" June asked, walking back to the main room where her friend had dropped her duffel bag when they'd stormed in. "You bet your sweet beans I did!" The blue hared thug grinned as she unzipped the over stuffed bag to reveal a huge assortment of frames. Large gilts, small wood, shiny lacquer, all shapes and sizes. "Perfect!" Caeryn grinned, "And I brought the super glue!" She held up several tubes. Quickly the DPs started gluing the frames all around the walls, floor and ceiling of the main room. At odd angles, over-lapping, over posters, on doors, as far as the eye could see, nothing but empty frames. "Looks good," Maya stepped back and admired their work, "Now -that's- a frame job! "Yeah, that should teach them not to try and frame the DP," Eric smiled, almost giddy at how pun-worthy the occasion was. He then quickly escorted the DP women out of the building... before any of those flashbacks ended. "We did good tonight." "And not only that," Laura glanced at her watch, "Phase two should be starting any minute now." The DPs all exchanged looks and laughed, oh yeah, how could they forget phase 2?! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> continued in part 2 Cousin Mary ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 20 21:26:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HmeH-0002Vg-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 07:15:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2955; Fri, 20 Aug 99 07:13:45 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2011; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 07:13:45 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 04:16:19 -0700 Reply-To: "Shana N." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Shana N." Subject: WAR: DP: While the Cats are Away To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3daac21f19df551607c6165f3b5da41d ***************** WAR: DP: "While the Cats are Away" (1/1) Place:Harem HQ Time: Thursday evening (19th), concurrent with "Frame Job" by: Shana Nolan all persons used with permission *********************** Coming to a stop at the valet station, a rather lovely man standing at the driver seat door, the Dark Perk couldn't help but smile as a finely muscled arm reached to open the door. "Good evening, may I park your car for you?" Mary elbowed Shana as she cut the engine to her washed, waxed and generally shiny wine coloured Escort. Shana snickered. "Oops, musta been distracted by the view." Jenny #3 bounced in the back seat. "Can we go? This is going to be great!" Opening the door and offering a hand to guide the Darth Perk Angel from the seat, the hunky Harem staffer smiled, waited 'til she stood, yielding the keys over and then did the same for the DP Godmother, who grinned and quickly sized up the warm piece of flesh before her. Once more proving exactly how many pixie sticks she had eaten before being dragged away from her Pokemon game, Jenny pressed her nose against the tinted glass trying to see whatever the two older Thugs were enjoying. That was when the passenger door opened. Nearly falling onto the ground and ruining the fabric of her dress, the teen picked herself up and looked into crystalline blue-grey eyes. "Oh, hi, uh, you're cute." The blonde and brunette gave Jenny a wide eyed stare, Mary latching a hand onto the teen's shoulder and pulling her towards the grand oak doors before them. Standing at the top of the steps just before the doors was yet another rather attractive man. Taking an obvious moment to look over the newly arrived guests, he gave a warm smile. Mary, once more having filched the Trophy Girl dress from Tracy's closet, the crochet lace setting off her pale shoulders, coifed to kill, resettled the fancy purse in her hand. Shana, her hair twisted into a french twist with cascading ringlets, had donned a black satin number that started barely above her sternum and ended at the floor, a silver cameo at her throat. Jenny #3 was indeed in a dress, having found inspiration from one too many BTVS episodes. The skirt hem ended at mid-thigh, the top covering her in a stop-looking-she's-only-15 way. Thigh high boots covered most of the teen's legs, the dress' very dark pink tone setting off the glossy leather nicely. "We couldn't get her into the turtleneck dress now could we... " "Of course not. Teenage wrath being what it is we may not want to inform her that bending over is -not- a good idea." The politely ogling man finally opened the door, the sudden sound of people talking and laughing and music playing spilling out at the three Thugs. Mary raised an eyebrow. Shana shrugged. "Got the invites here, may as well go and mingle." The DP Godmother gave her 2IC a look. "Okay, but if they recruit -me- I'll make you clean that bathtub for the rest of your life." The brunette grinned through her teeth. "Yes, my master." Jenny nearly hopped into the HQ that was decked out like a royal's flat. Breezing past the woman at the door and immediately being stopped again by the firm hand of her leadership, she spotted the non-alcoholic table. "Can I go get something to drink? Can I? Can I?" Mary nodded and released her, setting the teen loose in a crowd of cross-factional FK fans, hoping that if she had to wreak havoc, she could at least let the other DPs present participate. Shana smiled and nodded to the hostess standing at the door. "Hey, Amy, great digs. So, can we expect any mayhem? danger? loud music? cute gu-- oh, yeah, already discovered those." Laughing, the movement shaking something shiny loose from the lapel of her jacket, the head of the Harem gestured at the milling crowd. "Eh, go out and have some fun. I'm going to stay tucked in here 'til that blasted fireball goes away." Shana nodded sympathetically, finally stripping away the stylin' sunglasses, following behind Mary as she waved at various people. And then they disappeared into the crowd for a bit. (commercial break) Later, after discussing the dynamics of successfully decorating with weapons and still not getting arrested, the two legal age Dark Perks suddenly realised the youngest of the trio was nowhere to be seen. Scanning the crowd for a sugar wired Thug, Mary pointed towards the back where Jenny #3 was carrying on a conversation with one of the waiters about pink demons and what great fun they were when you squished them. "Um, Jenny, can I talk to you?" The teenager giggled. "Sure." Mary gave her a look. "Are you feeling okay?" "Well I never thought I'd find a story about folding napkins fun, but... " "Come here." Waving a hand in front of the girl's face, the Godmother commanded, "Follow my finger." At which point Shana came up behind the blonde. "What's up?" "I think she's intoxicated." Jenny blurted a defensive response. "No, I got it from the non-alcohol table, ya know that punch bowl?" Pointing at the innocent looking set-up, she shrugged, hoping that she wouldn't get busted. "Okay... I'm going to find out what's going--" Half a dozen party goers checked their cellular phones. Digging the cel from her purse, Mary clicked it on. "Yeah?... okay, slow down... they did -what-?!... oh, geez... yeah, thanks, Tracy... soon as possible." A look of intrigued concern marked the DP Angel's face as she restrained the giggling Jenny from once more seeking out her new waiter friend. "What now?" "You know that mib guy?" "Mib?" "M-i-B." "Oh, that mib guy. Yeah, what about him?" "The Thugs arrested him, he's at the 96th." "Maybe we should go and take care of that... " Mary nodded adamantly. "Okay, I'll go find out about the spiked punch thing, you get the car from valet." Walking off to fetch the Escort from Cute Car Boy, Mary shook her head. Cat's away for a few hours and what happens? ~Wonder if they brought the video camera...~ Finding the Harem CnC lingering near a suspiciously familiar black couch, the DP put her best game face on. "Um, Amy?" Trying to appear innocent (and failing), Amy grinned. "Yes?" "Did you know that the non-alch punch was spiked?" The grin faded to a suspicious glance. "No... how did you find out?" Shana pointed at the teenaged Thug. "She drank some." "Four glasses," Jenny offered helpfully. Amy sighed (only because its a PG-13 war). "Okay, great, thanks. Wonder who did it... " "Dunno, but we gotta run. Apparently Dark Perks plus idle hands equals anything-could-happen. And if you ever want a little help with security... " Walking the DPs out to the valet area where Mary was jangling Shana's keys (with the "Bite Me, Literally" keyring), the Harem Wife nodded. "Maybe... " Piling into the car, Shana starting the engine, they waved, Mary kicking up the volume on track 4 of the Matrix soundtrack as they drove their way to intercept the parallel DP fun. "They could have at least videotaped the thing!" ***************************** Shana, dpangel@thegrid.net the Darth Perk Angel, DP 2nd in Command From - Fri Aug 20 21:26:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HmzP-0004AD-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 07:37:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4872; Fri, 20 Aug 99 07:35:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2680; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 07:35:33 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 20:34:40 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: Re-Enforcements (01/??) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ef382fabc0ab9340c8937e8b6ed707f2 Raven woke with a start. She'd been dreaming about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She looked around. Steve, Kim, Jen and Maria lay in various positions around the room. She tried hard to remember what exactly had happened. She saw the spintered door, creeking on the one hinge still attached and remembered. "Tracy! Those damned dark perks, I swear they will pay." She looked around. Picture frames were covering the walls in the main foyer. She couldn't believe it. They'd been framed. "Ungh." Steve said as he woke slowly from the drug. "What happened?" He looked at Raven. "We've been framed, Steve, look around. They got us." Raven sighed. "What about the MiB?" Steve groaned. Faster than she could think, Raven swept to the MiB's office. It was empty of said former-vampire. Hot wing crumbs were scattered around the room, along with pizza crusts, chinese food boxes, empty KFC buckets, and a pizza box. "Jeez," she said, "Make a vampire mortal and he'll eat you out of house and home." "Is he there?" Steve asked. "No. I think they took him." "Why?" Kim asked, just having woken up. "I don't know." Raven puzzled. Maria sighed as she woke up herself. "What's going on?" "The DPs have broken in and stolen our MiB," Raven said with venom in her voice. "I'll get them, those..." Kim almost screamed. "Now, hold on," Raven said, "We did frame them for a few things. Now, be honest, as long as he's okay and we get him back, there's really no problem." "The voice of reason in a chaotic war," Steve huffed. "There are no rules in hell, Raven." "Excuse me?" Raven sighed. "Uh, Boss, Captain, Sir," Steve adlibbed. Raven ignored him. "Now, we have to find out where he is, and how to get him out." "Well," Kim said. "If Tracy was here, maybe he's at the police station." "Yeah," Maria said. "At least if we can't get him before dawn he won't implode on us now." Raven pulled her cell phone. "HQ Chicago, this is HQ Toronto. We've got a problem." =================================== Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Evil and Chaos Incarnate Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Fri Aug 20 21:26:42 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hosz-0003UZ-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 09:39:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3635; Fri, 20 Aug 99 09:37:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1786; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 09:37:03 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 09:38:31 EDT Reply-To: Guenvier@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Debra Ann Fiorini Subject: WAR: NatPack: Going to the Dogs...err...Rats. 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fac0221d13d3d7c37639ebc69d43384d "Going to the Dogs...err..Rats" 1/1 By: Debra Ann, Jill, and the NatPack Place: Downtown Toronto and Natalie's Apartment Time: Afternoon of Thursday the 19th. *** "We have more caffeine here than the army has ammo," Robyn said, trying to not drop the three bags she was carrying. "I think that's a good thing." Meredith said, while struggling with four bags herself. "After all, no one can afford to sleep while a War is on." "That's for sure," Judy said, moments before she dropped a bag. "Shoot! That's the bag with the chocolate in it." Lady Angst shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Chocolate tastes just as good in many tiny pieces as it does in one big piece. Just don't drop Maureen's cake." James nodded as he juggled three bags and a cake, "Don't worry. I wouldn't want anything to spoil this surprise." "Hey," Judy said, picking up the bag she dropped. "That's odd." "What's odd?" "I thought I saw four pairs of tiny eyes staring at me from the dark little hole over there." The other four NatPackers turned to look. "I don't see anything," Robyn said. "I think they're gone," Judy answered. "Maybe they were cats," Meredith said. "The eyes were too tiny." "Kittens?" "I don't think so." "Well, let's get a move on before the chocolate ice cream melts," Robyn suggested. A few more blocks and the five NatPackers (kind of like the Four Musketeers but without the capes and the swords...unless surgical implements can be considered small swords...) were within sight of the Apartment Building of the Damned (tm). "Hallelujah! Almost there and only lost twice!" "Hey," Lady Angst said, "Look at that really big mouse." "Ummm, that's a rat," James clarified. "Oh. Ewww." "In fact, there's an awful lot of rats around here." "Oh my goodness, there's a rat pack coming this way." "The RatPack's coming this way?" "No, a pack of rats." "Oh. Well, in that case, I say we throw caution to the wind and cross against the light. I think they smell the chocolate." No one needed to say anything else. The five NatPackers made it across the street in record time and into Natalie's apartment. "Hey, the caffeine is here," Jill announced when Robyn, Judy, Meredith, Lady Angst, and James entered the apartment, slamming and locking the door behind them. "What's the matter?" Debra Ann asked. "Something is wrong in Toronto today," Judy announced. "Yeah, there's a War going on," Debra Ann said. "Besides that," James said, taking the cake into the kitchen. "All the vampires in Toronto have suddenly turned mortal." "Besides that," Robyn said. "What else is there?" "The streets are overrun with rats." Robyn declared. "At first we thought it was our imagination, but no. There's hundreds of them out there." "Well, at least we're safe in here." Jill commented, "We have Sidney and Seymour and Cooper. That's two cats and a dog." "We're safe so far," Meg sighed. "But they *could* overrun us." "Oh, I don't like how you said that!" "Meg and James, look for any vents that a rat could come through on that side of the apartment and close them," Jill said, "I'll take this side." "And I'll take the bathroom," Debra said. "There are no vents in there," Meredith noted. "But I once saw a documentary on rats and I saw them come up the pipes," Debra answered, hurrying for Nat's bathroom. "You're kidding??" Several Natpackers asked at once. "Nope," Debra called back over her shoulder. "Ewww," was the immediate group answer as the NatPack took to crawling around the floor, latching, bolting, and covering anything that was open, unlocked, or uncovered...just in case. Sidney, Seymour, and Cooper just watched in amusement as twenty or so humans checked out the whole apartment on their hands and knees. ******** *** Debra Ann *** ** NatPack * N&NPack * Valentine * UT ** ** HeLLLion * SunS ** ** guenvier@aol.com * fiorini@ac.marywood.edu ** webpage: http://hometown.aol.com/guenvier/guenvierfk.htm From - Fri Aug 20 21:26:43 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hp52-0000Gs-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 09:51:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3719; Fri, 20 Aug 99 09:49:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2991; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 09:49:28 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 22:48:08 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: Re-Enforcements (02/??) X-cc: ewar To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 07d98c1e58e21ed09970e717dba6a5ea Re-Enforcements (02/??) By Cousin Raven Clyde, Mike, and Niko are my characters. Kim, Steve, Enid, Jen Z, Katilina, Maria, Taryn, Amber, and Kadira used with permission. ========================= Forgot to mention time and place on the first section. For the record, this story is right after Cousin Mary's "Frame Job" ========================= The helicopter came in slowly, circling the small helipad. Inside, three enforcers prepared for battle. The helicopter landed on the Canada Trust Tower, it's blades whirring slowly to a stop. Clyde was the first out. He was a strong enforcer brought across during the French revolution. His ties with the enforcers were life-long. Mike jumped out next, eager to be out on his first assignment. He was a new recruit, and a new vampire. He'd only had two years experience as a vampire so far. Lastly, Niko stepped out of the helicopter. He was strong, and silent, but not a vampire. He'd been recruited for heavy assignments, assignments that might require daylight intervention. Not that he wasn't supernatural, he actually had his own personal secret that had made him an asset to the enforcer community. He was a werewolf. They went to the door and took the elevator down to the basement. They took in the scene, the busted door, the picture frames, the sour expression of the occupants. They all came to attention as the enforcers entered the room through the broken door. Clyde looked around, "Looks like you all had a hell of a time here." Raven sighed, "Yes, Sir, it's been hell. The DPs took revenge, then they took Shadowman." "Is that what he told you his name was?" Clyde was incredulous. Raven's expression went blank. "He never really did tell us what his name was." Clyde smiled the smile of a predator. "That's about right. It won't matter unless we get him back, though. These mortals have such poor constitutions. He may not make it." "Yes, Sir." Raven was saddened. "Now, get your crew together, and meet me in the conference room." "Yes, Sir." ========================= Welcome to the Jungle ========================= Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Evil and Chaos Incarnate Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Fri Aug 20 21:26:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HqZV-000621-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 11:27:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7092; Fri, 20 Aug 99 11:24:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2293; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 11:24:30 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 12:26:20 -0300 Reply-To: Lynn Stapleton Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lynn Stapleton Subject: Re: War: NP: Bouncing Matilta (2/2) and other stuff X-To: "Janet Dornhoff, DVM" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU In-Reply-To: <199908161820.PAA09280@unb.ca> Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d6236a9ca943afe04e3b3f64c4f3de49 At least I like what I've been doing if I haven't been able to participate as fully as I would have liked. I have been studying. I had to write a Microbiology exam this morning. And on top of that a good friend of mine died last night. Rather unexpectedly. She's 22 and she had a pulmonary embolism (a blood clot from her leg went up and into her lungs). I was only talking to her the night before for 2 hrs and we were laughing about stuff. Her leg was bothering her but she wasn't overly concerned. She was on Torodol and Robaxicet. Lynn B5 Mantra: "Ivanova is always right. I will listen to Ivanova. I will not ignore Ivanova's recommendations. Ivanova is God. And, if this ever happens again, Ivanova will personally rip your lungs out." - Susan Ivanova, "A Voice in the Wilderness, Part 1" Lynn Stapleton UNB Nursing School d7ux@unb.ca jean_grey@hotmail.com http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Lair/6122/index.htm http://www.unb.ca/web/clubs/fsfs From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hrfy-00019G-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 12:37:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6049; Fri, 20 Aug 99 12:34:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3994; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 12:34:34 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 12:35:04 -0400 Reply-To: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Organization: @Home Network Member Subject: WAR: GSS: Partying at the Harem Or Something Like That (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 59d642223dc8d1677a93ed7b4bc85959 WAR: GSS: Partying at the Harem Or Something Like That (01/01) Time: Thursday the 19th, 7:45PM Location: GSS HQ After: Harem: Preparing to Party By: Jennifer (Agent Ice), Jade (Agent Silver), and Amy (Randora) Participants: Jennifer (Agent Ice), Jade (Agent Silver), Bob (Agent Phantom), and Randora Agent Phantom and Agent Silver were standing outside the CERK building. Agent Ice had told them that she would pick them up at 7:30 to take them with her to the Party that the Harem was throwing at 8:00. Bob glanced at his watch. It was now 7:45 and they were still waiting. What could be taking her? Silver stood looking left and Phantom stood looking right, as if that would get her there faster. They watched as a black Jaguar pulled up in front of CERK, the darkly-tinted driver side window lowered and there sat Agent Ice behind the wheel, "Get in." was all she said with a smirk at their gawking faces. With expressions of wonderment they slowly climbed into the obviously very expensive vehicle and buckled up. "Before you guys say anything, it was a gift from LaCroix." Ice said as she pulled away from the curb. "I don't *want* to know what you did to make him give this to you, but I love the car!" Agent Silver exclaimed. She paused for a moment in thought, "This wouldn't be his personal vehicle, would it?" "Oh, no, of course not. It's just that after being one of the only GSS agents staying here since the last war I've helped him out on several occasions. I was in need of a car and the General was very generous." Ice explained as she turned a corner. Bob just glared at her darkly as they moved down the street, his jealousy of the gift obvious. To get his mind off of the sleek vehicle, he glanced at his watch again and mumbled, "We're going to be late." "No problem," Agent Ice replied, a wicked gleam coming to her eyes. Silver and Cousin Bob were thrown back into their padded seats as she accelerated the car through the yellow light in the intersection. "Not something I would suggest you try in anything else!" she laughed at Silver, who was looking at her, petrified, from the passenger seat. Ice glanced over at Silver, who sat gripping the door handle with one hand and the edge of her seat with the other. "All right. All right. I'll slow down." She took her foot off the gas until they were cruising at about five clicks over the normal speed limit. Agent Silver calmed visibly. About fifteen minutes later they pulled up to an old hotel, which according to the address on the invitation was where the Harem Headquarters was located. Ice pulled up to the front door and slowly came to a stop. She put the car in park and adjusted her dark sunglasses. The valet walked to the car and opened the doors on the passenger side, letting Bob and Jade out. He walked around to the other side of the car and opened the driver's side door to let Ice out. Ice didn't get out. 'This guy looks a little too eager to get in my new car,' she thought. "Excuse me Miss, I'm the valet. I can park your car for you." He said cheerfully. Ice thought the situation over. She was very possessive of her new vehicle and she wasn't about to let some twenty-something go for a joy ride in it. She would use the intimidation factor yet again. The agent slowly unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the car straightening her black dress. She started to hand him the keys but then stopped, holding them in front of the valet. "If there is one hairline scratch or dent in this car when I return. One flake of paint missing " She paused and smiled evilly, "Well, we won't go into the consequences, will we?" She handed the valet the keys and walked to the sidewalk to join her fellow agents. 'I'm just glad she's on my side,' was the only thought in Jade's head as they walked up the steps to the door. A doorman opened one of the heavy oak doors for the three of them and they entered. A brown-haired woman wearing a burgundy pantsuit stood by the door to greet guests as they arrived. She was wearing glasses and had her hair pulled back into a chignon. "Hello, I'm Randora. Come on in and make yourselves comfortable," she said smiling at the three of them. "We have live music and dancing in the ballroom on the left. If you are hungry, the dining room is through the doors on the right. There is a bar where you can get drinks, alcoholic if you are of age, non-alcoholic for our younger partygoers and the designated drivers. I do hope you enjoy yourselves this evening," she told them before turning slightly to meet the next group of newcomers. "Thanks." Bob said and walked with the two other agents towards the ballroom. After a bit of mingling and eavesdropping, the agents were about to leave. They headed into the lobby and were working their way to the door, when Jade stopped and looked at something or someone. "Isn't that Nick sitting with Randora over there?" Jade pointed in the direction of two people sitting on a couch by the fireplace. "Yeah it is..." Ice stopped in mid-sentence and clenched her jaw with silent rage. "That's My Couch " was all she said in a low menacing tone. Her expression never changed as she said, "Somebody's going to pay." Jade looked from the couch and then back to her friend. 'This isn't going to be pretty,' she thought as she watched the agent's face slowly go impassive. 'Wish I'd brought a mop,' she thought as she pictured all of the carnage that her fellow agent was going to create. "What are you going to do about it?" Jade asked, apprehensive of the other agent. She was still a rookie and had never actually seen Ice at work. The taller woman shook her auburn hair back over her shoulder and smiled icily at Jade. "You'll see," she answered, heading towards the couch. "Wondered were she got that name," Silver said, shivering slightly. 'Be careful what you wish for...' Bob, realizing this was not the place for an out right battle placed his hand on Ice's shoulder, stopping her. She turned around, looking annoyed. "Not here," he said. "Come on. Let's go." Ice was silent. Finally she said, "Yes, let's go plot revenge." With that, they left. *fin* From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HsZ8-0006zg-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 13:34:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6486; Fri, 20 Aug 99 13:27:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0072; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 13:27:38 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 02:27:00 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: Re-enforcements (03/04) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b40865ceea9e842c5f6d1cd4cd46da63 War: Enforcers: Re-enforcements (03/04) By Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) Clyde, Mike, and Niko are my characters. Kim, Steve, Enid, Jen Z, Katilina, Maria, Taryn, Amber, and Kadira used with permission. =========================== Place: Police Holding Cell The Shadowman sat in his cell incredulously. He just couldn't believe he'd been duped and framed for, of all things, polygamy. Those DPs, he was going to get them. ------- Place: The Enforcers HQ, Conference Room Clyde cleared his throat as the meeting came to order. "So, we've contacted InterPol and found that our 'shadowman' is in jail here in Toronto. They've got him on some circumstantial evidence and they're holding him for further questioning. We've already deleted the InterPol entry, and we're getting the equipment ready..." At this time, Niko came in. He was in full body armor and was armed to the teeth. Clyde cleared his throat again. "That won't be necessary this time, but I appreciate your readiness to participate." Niko appeared nonplussed, he was always ready for the worst. Mike appeared with a laptop and booted it up. He started to pull information down from the ~E~ database. "The DP mansion is within range. Shall I prepare a counterattack plan?" Clyde smiled, "No counterattack for now. Once we get shadowman back, we can talk about what else we can do to the DPs. I hear Raven and her troops did quite a job on them." Everyone giggled. Around the table, the crew was watching these newcomers intently. Raven watched the interaction between the three to gauge the trust they had and how long they'd been working together. It was obvious it hadn't been long, and trust was still being worked on. Kim watched them more with fear than anything. They were, after all, vampires, at least she knew two of them were. The other, Niko, she was uncertain of. He gave her chills whenever she saw him. Steve was relaxed. Raven summized it was because they were all male. He finally had someone to trust. Not that he didn't trust the females, but it was a guy thing. She understood that. Enid stared at the door fitfully. She imagined the DPs coming in for a second attack to finish the job. Jen looked down at her shoes. They were were black boots with handpainted red gargoyles on them. She sighed; she hated waiting. In the corner on the couch and two reclining chairs, Kat, Maria, Taryn, Amber and Kadira sat. They looked completely miserable. Raven had talked to them before the meeting. Apparently, the BBQ planning at the Blackwood Arms was not going quite as planned. The caterers had balked out, claiming a death in the family. Decorators had fallen sick from some unknown virus. Party favors had turned up missing. The whole thing was going to hell. Now this. They definitely needed a vacation after this. Clyde put up a blueprint on the cork board at the front of the room. There were blue and red dots with names written beside each. "Everyone will go to their assigned station and contain any outcries. We do have extra whammizers in case something happened to some of yours," he glanced meaningfully at Raven. She sighed. "I think Mary may have borrowed a few when she left to help the DPs. They could be anywhere now." Clyde shook his head. "I was afraid of that. Okay, everyone, be sure to keep your glasses on at all times, regardless. DPs could be there." Around the room everyone nodded. "Okay," Clyde said, "Let's go get him back." =========================== Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Evil and Chaos Incarnate Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HvNU-0003pA-01; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 16:35:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0472; Fri, 20 Aug 99 16:32:06 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5671; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 16:32:06 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 16:33:15 EDT Reply-To: Libratsie@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: RP: A Nother Shiny Pretty (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fb4c1032c4c6f759bac0ee334cb82c02 WAR: RP: A NOTHER SHINY PRETTY by Libby Singleton FRIDAY AFTERNOON, AUGUST 20 Concurrent to Part 2 and up of JUST A NOTHER AFTERNOON posted by the Nothers Libby stuck her head out of the tunnel entrance into the Nother's headquarters. "Fleurette? Ya 'ere?" She didn't see Fleurette anywhere, just rats who'd squeezed past her when she opened the entrance. Scrabbling out of the tunnel, Libs found a number of interesting shiny pretties. An aluminum candy wrapper. A broken necklace chain. An empty soft drink can. Then her eyes fell on the costumes left from the Nother's magic show. Those were very shiny pretty, and she even had permission to take them. To her delight, they were even labeled with her name. No one could accuse her of unauthorized borrowing! Fleurette hadn't known what else to do with the outfits since there was not enough storage space in La Chateau as it was, so she'd called the Ratpack to see if they wanted the sequin costumes. "Bring a roight pretty looney h'at the swap meet," Libs said, clapping happily before gathering the outfits in her arms. Then a rat labeled with the name Kenny caught her eye. He was holding something very shiny! No doubt it belonged to one of the Nothers, but since she was taking all the sequined outfits off their hands, she needed payment of SOME sort! The shiny pretty in the ratsie's mouth would do just the trick. "Gimme tha!" she cried, dropping the costumes. Kenny squealed in protest, shaking his lil' ratsie head. "I said give h'it ta me, ya mangey var-ment!" Libby said. "Ol Libs iz the Ratpacker, ya h'are jest the ratsie. Nuthin' but food fer the Screedster, when 'e's h'in a ratsie mood, tha' h'iz!" Libby kicked Kenny as hard as she could. Kenny flew up into the air, still hanging on to the shiny pretty. However, when he hit the wall, he dropped it. Libs dived, managing to grasp it. "Coo, lewkie there, ya really got them stars an' tweetin' birdies flyin' 'round ya 'ead!" The shiny pretty safely in her pocket, she gathered up the outfits and dove back into her tunnel, closing the entrance behind her. Once arriving at the swap meet, it didn't take her long to find just what she wanted! A shiny, thin metal kazoo. The seller proved to be a hard bargainer, demanding all the outfits PLUS the shiny pretty gem-thingee, but Libs walked happily away tooting a tune on her kazoo. Kenny found another exit from La Chateau. That particular fragment may have been lost, but there were others. He knew it. He limped a little from his fly through the air, though he refused to let it bother him. He knew soon the rats would rule Toronto! He cackled with little ratsie glee. END- LibRatsie@aol.com From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HvlA-0006ir-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 16:59:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0476; Fri, 20 Aug 99 16:33:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5735; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 16:33:20 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 15:35:11 CDT Reply-To: Cousin Erik Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Erik Subject: WAR: NA: Revenge of the EPB (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 93a3248f2af5a0c2fdca3ec7c374f9ec NA: Revenge of the EPB (1/1) by Cousin Erik Time: Friday, August 20, 1999, 3pm Place: The Jeweled Peach Bathroom Okay, maybe 'impressed' had been too strong a word, Erik reflected bitterly. Sure, it was an improvement over the Evil Pink monstrosity, but the idea was to make it *usable* as well. Instead, some of KC's more inventive additions had already begun to deteriorate. By the time Erik had gotten around to painting over the words "KC is the goddess!" that had been spray painted on all the walls, the paint had already been absorbed by the glitter. Now it appeared that the words had been created by the addition of a multitude of LEDs. And, sure, the Chia-Nunkies was really cute, but it was also absorbing bathroom-type odors and was reeking quite badly. The Nunkies towels shared a similar fate. One of them had a large unidentifiable stain across Nunkies' forehead, so that he resembled nothing so much as a certain ex-Russian leader. Not to mention the fact that it was so wrinkled that it gave a fair impression of what Nunkies would look like in about 30 years if he didn't revert back to his vampiric state. Pieces of the Nunkies appliques on the shower curtain had begun to flake off as well. And while the thought of being confronted with Nunkies in the shower had been quite appealing to the Addicts at first, being confronted with a Nunkies with one eye, half a nose, and a disembodied ear was quite disquieting. Add to that the mess created when it was discovered that one of the refill bottles of the Mango Body Wash had leaked inside the medicine cabinet and not been noticed until it had already congealed to the point that the door wouldn't open unless firmly yanked. And the recording KC had rigged of Nunkies saying "This... never... happened" whenever the toilet was flushed was, okay, pretty darn funny the first few times. Unfortunately, somehow the playback device had gotten wet and now it sounded less like Nunkies and more like a beached whale. And to crown it all off, it was beginning to become apparent that the Evil Pinkness of the original bathroom was reasserting itself. The peach paint had progressively become more Evil, the shiny pretty glitter was winking out in places, and no amount of reapplication seemed to have any effect. Erik estimated that by the end of the war, possibly a day or so before, the bathroom would have successfully rejected all of the additions to it and reverted to its Evil Pink state. Disgusted, Erik closed the door and stalked away. There was one last hope. --- End --- _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HwzV-00043c-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 18:18:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2933; Fri, 20 Aug 99 18:15:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6715; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 18:15:39 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 15:18:23 -0700 Reply-To: Liz the Lucky Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Liz the Lucky Subject: WAR: Nothers/Mercs: Just a Nother Afternoon (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0b197b6cc496a87ebb22f9422f69d1c5 Remembered the War Header this time. {blush} Title: Just a Nother Afternoon Part 01/03 written by: Liz & Fleurette Place: Chateau des Autres Time: early afternoon, Friday, Aug. 20th. following "A Nother Fine Mess" Early Friday afternoon, the Nothers gathered in the Main Lobby, along with three Mercs provided by Liz. All the Nothers, that is, except NightDancer, who was a habitual late sleeper. It was nothing for her to roll out of bed at the crack of 2 PM, especially after a long night of e-mailing. "Did she end up with Daf again?" Liz smerked. "Poor baby," Kat added. "Poor, my foot!" muttered Fleurette. "If Mom hadn't stopped me, I'd have woken her up at 7, when I got up." "Why doesn't someone get her up now?" Elladara suggested. Liz, Fleurette and Kat looked at each other. "I'll go get the bucket of ice water," Liz agreed. "I'll get the towel," added Fleurette. "And I'll get the camera," Kat finished. Leaving the others behind, the three crept into NightDancer's suite, where sure enough, the brunette was sleeping with her head in Daf's lap. "Why doesn't she just use a pillow?" Kat asked. "Would you?" Liz answered. "Quick, Kat! Get a picture of this while you have the camera," Fleurette suggested. Always ready to obey her leader, Kat snapped. The camera flash woke Daf, but not NightDancer, who was always a very sound sleeper. The stable boy looked from woman to woman, noting the implements of a tortuous wake up call in their hands. Taking in the situation, Daf gently slipped out from under the slumbering woman's body, grinning slightly. "You're really going to do it, are you?" he asked them? "Yup," all three women answered. Bending over, he carefully whispered in NightDancer's ear, "Oh NightDancer," then stepped back out of the way. NightDancer murmured, not quite waking up. Uh huh. "NightDancer," Fleurette said, a little louder. NightDancer opened her eyes just in time to see the water flying at her. Dancer's eyes widened. Fighting the urge to cringe, she attempted to roll off the bed and out of the way of the on-coming water. **Ker-Splash!!!!**** Sadly, (or comically, depending on your view point), she rolled too late and instead fell off the bed in a jumble of soaking bed sheets. Kat got off another picture. "I hate you, I hope you know that," NightDancer simmered. "We know," the three woman sang cheerily back to her. "It's your own fault," Liz added. "How is it my fault?" she asked, blinking in a somewhat Vaq-ese manner. "That other post you wrote," Fleurette explained. "The one that tried to go past PG-13, even though you kept insisting it didn't." "Not to mention monopolizing Daf," Kat added. "Did you ever stop to think the rest of us wouldn't mind putting our heads in his--" "And I though we were keeping him a virgin," Liz interrupted, very put out about the notion. If anyone was going to take care of that, er, never mind. NightDancer grumbled. "Why won't you guys believe I'm innocent?" "Because you hang out with us," Fleurette answered. END PART ONE Hugs and Kisses, Liz the Lucky FoD Merc luckyliz@mindspring.com Nanette Nother http://www.mindspring.com/~luckyliz From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hx5i-0004Kn-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 18:24:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9364; Fri, 20 Aug 99 18:22:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7522; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 18:22:43 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 15:25:21 -0700 Reply-To: Liz the Lucky Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Liz the Lucky Subject: War: Nothers: Just a Nother Afternoon (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4925129d20594ee60fd722406b068b8d Title: Just a Nother Afternoon Part 02/03 written by: Liz & Fleurette Place: Chateau des Autres & DP Mansion Time: early afternoon, Friday, Aug. 20th. directly following "Just a Nother Afternoon" part 02/03 Disclaimers: all Mercs & Nothers used by permission. No demons were harmed in the making of this post. Liz, Kat and Fleurette returned to the main lobby, followed by a soaking wet and still-grumbling NightDancer. "What happened to her?" one of the Mercs asked. Liz chuckled deviously in reply. "As if you have to ask!" "Maybe it's time we introduced ourselves to our new friends," Fleurette said to Liz. "There's no need," Jeanne told her daughter. "While you were gone, Elladara and I intro-ed ourselves." "That works for you guys, but not us," Kat commented. She and Fleurette turned pointedly to Liz, waiting for a proper introduction. "Okay, this is Fleurette, NightDancer and my Kat," Liz told the Mercs. "And this is Gubs, Beth, and Mildred." "Hi!" everyone said to each other. "So what are we doing?" Beth asked. Fleurette smiled wickedly. "We're raiding the Dark Perk Mansion," Kat added. "We *are*?" asked the three Mercs. "Liz, what have you gotten us into?" Mildred accused. "Don't ask me, I'm just the general contractor," Liz answered. "Fleurette's the boss." "Come on!" Fleurette exclaimed. "Don't look at me like I have a sudden death wish! It'll be fun." The Mercs still thought she was crazy, but, hey, she was the one paying. "So what exactly are we doing?" Gubs asked. Liz filled them in on the particulars and they went to gather up the supplies. And soon they were on their way. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Before the group left le Chateau, Fleurette suddenly remembered something she'd forgotten. "Hold on a second, troups," she told them, rushing up the long flight of stairs back to her bedroom. On her bed was a pile of costumes from Monday night's magic show. Fleurette had arranged for Libby to take the costumes off her hands. Nothers didn't need them any longer and none of the other volunteers had wanted to keep them. The RatPacker, however, jumped at the offer of new shiney pretties. Grabbing the pile, Fleurette hurried back down the stairs. Placing the costumes on the front desk, she took an index card and carefully labeled it: Libby's Shiney Pretties. She set the card on top of the pile and rejoined the group, which had moved outside. Unknown to Fleurette, however, as soon as she closed the door, a rat ran across the desk, disrupting the label, and causing it to fall. That same rat then maneuvered his way into one of the desk drawers, searching for something, as if he were on a mission. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@ "What was that all about?" NightDancer asked as Fleurette helped them load up the van. "Oh, nothing," Fleurette said. "Just something I had to do before we left." She pointed to the cage where the pink-dyed rats sat nervously twitching their noses. "Put those guys in the van, too," she said to no one in particular. Once everything was loaded, they piled into the van and were on their way. A short time later, they arrived at the Dark Perk Mansion. It loomed before them like a huge, creepy thing out of a bad B movie. "Are you *sure* we wanna do this?" Jeanne asked. "I half expect Igor to greet us at the door," Kat noted. Fortunately, Igor wasn't waiting for them. In fact, when they went up to the front door and opened it, there was no one around. No one, that is, except for several itty-bitty pink demons. And the only reason they knew the demons were there was NightDancer tripped over one. "Those have got to go," Liz said. "Unless I could take a couple home for the cats to play with, maybe?" With a *poof* the demons all vanished out of sight. That didn't mean they were gone, though. The Nothers and Mercs could hear them laughing. "Maybe they'll just laugh at us and won't come back," NightDancer said, picking herself up off the floor. "I can get rid of them," Elladara offered. "A simple Casting Out should do the trick." Dancer volunteered to help and the rest of the group decided to leave them alone. They wandered off into another part of mansion, returning a short time later. "So, how'd it go?" Fleurette asked as NightDancer and Elladara reentered the room. Dancer ducked her head before looking up again with a sheepish smile. "Um, well...it should be interesting." The three other parts of the communal brain exchanged worried glances. "What do you mean, 'interesting'?" Kat asked. "Actually, the exorcism went pretty well," Elladara put in. "Except for one little problem," Dancer corrected. "And that is?" Fleurette prompted warily. "We cast them into the rats." Elladara quickly put up her hands, anticipating a reaction. "There's precedent for it, actually. There weren't any pigs handy but we had rats handy so we stuck them in them. At least they'll go with the decor, eventually." The Nothers faction leader's mouth dropped open in horror. "I'm not even going to ask if you just said what I think you just said because I know that's what you just said. You cast the DPdemons INTO THE RATS????? The same rats that we dyed pink and brought with us????" "Um ... unfortunately ... yes." "JULIE LORRAINE JEKEL!!" "Shhhh!!!" Dancer hissed loudly, looking around them warily. "Debbie, why'd you do that?? Now everyone reading this post is gonna know my name!" "All things considered, that's the least of your problems! Jewelz!!!!!!!!" Look, it's not permanent!" she protested in defense, praying silently that no DPs were upstairs and would be alerted by the shouting. "It's not?" "Since they're fanfic demons, we could only exorcise them for three days," Dancer confessed with a sigh. "Then what was the point of doing it?" "Well, the DPs don't know that!" Fleurette groaned. "So for the next three days, we not only have rats overrunning Toronto, but *possessed* rats." "Um...yeah, that sounds about right." Her friend growled. "Remind me to kill you as soon as the War's over." END PART TWO Hugs and Kisses, Liz the Lucky FoD Merc luckyliz@mindspring.com Nanette Nother http://www.mindspring.com/~luckyliz From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HxOG-00050w-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 18:44:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9468; Fri, 20 Aug 99 18:41:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9112; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 18:41:55 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 15:43:46 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR:Nothers/Mercs: Just a Nother Afternoon 03/03 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 28ec3bcbc63c4f8005b2851ecb27c9f2 Title: Just a Nother Afternoon part 03/03 written by: Liz & Fleurette Place: DP Mansion Time: afternoon, Friday Aug. 20th, somewhere arounf 3 PM. directly after "Just a Nother Afternoon part 02/03" Disclaimers: all Nothers & mercs used by permission. Dps abused willingly. Also, Liz for got to add the Mercs to the header in part 2. nt to worry, though. I sent her to bed without supper, so she'll never do that again! ;-) @@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Demons taken care of, Liz sent the other Mercs upstairs to check if anyone was home. They each also took an armful of cute stuffed fuzzy-wuzzies to pepper about the place. While they were gone, the Nothers also began littering the rooms with the ultra cutesy stuffed creatures. Kat took lots of pictures. "Look what I found," Mildred announced, dragging a couple of Dark Perks by the ears. One had blue hair and the other purple. "Oh perfect," Fleurette said. "We need help with the painting." "What makes you think we'd help you?" Maya asked, scowling. "Oh, I dunno... I have a feeling you'll be more than happy to help us," Fleurette told the assembled Dark Perks. She whipped out a strange looking device and held it up momentously. "What's that?" Dancer asked. "This," explained the Nothers faction leader," is the Snixco Hypnotizer 2000. Guaranteed by Snixco to whammy anyone you point it at." "Why do you have that?" came Dancer's next question. Fleurette shrugged. "I bought on whim for.... the hubby... but he wouldn't let me use it on him. I kind of figured it might come in hand, so I brought it along, just in case." "Ooooh," Liz said, looking it over. "May I?" "Sure," Fleurette said, handing it over. Liz looked the device over and aimed it at the DPs, pressing a couple of buttons. Maya and SNB both stiffened. "Why don't you stand over there," she suggested, "until we decide what to do with you." The DPs immediately went over to the corner. "Got some more for you," Gubs said at the top of the stairs. She and Beth had three more DPs tied up between them. Soon, they were also whammied and standing with their friends. "So now what?" Kat asked. "First Merc to come up with an idea gets a bonus," Fleurette said. Beth shyly raised hand. "I haven't had much costuming to do this War. Could I...?" "And I'll help," Elladara offered. The two got together and soon the five DPs were dressed in pink frilly dresses, complete with white lace and crinolines, and Shirley Temple wigs. Martin, in particular, looked very cute. Make that eight DPs, as three more were found. "What do we do with them now?" Jeanne asked. "How about painting the outside of the Mansion?" Kat suggested. "Good idea," Liz agreed (naturally). "Paint makes me sick." That leaves me out, too," Fleurette said. When the Mercs looked at her in confusion, she added, "I'm pregnant. Can't touch chemicals." "Sounds perfect then," Mildred said. "Okay, slaves, get painting. There's can's and sprayers in the van." The DPs nodded and set to work. A short time later, the Dark Perk mansion was pink. Baby pink. "Looks pretty," Liz commented. "Are we done now?" Jeanne asked. "I think so," Fleurette said. "Can I have the Whammy-er again?" Liz asked. "Got me an idea." "Sure," Fleurette said, handing her the device. Liz took it and aimed it at the DPs. You are going to act the way Tracy was in the beginning of Season Three," she ordered. "You're going to be empty-headed, bubbly, over-enthusiastic, and annoyingly.... *dramatic pause* ... perky! "Okay, now we can go," she said, handing the device back to Fleurette. You heard the lady, gang," Fleurette told the rest of them. "Let's go!" On the way out, one of the pink rats ran in front of NightDancer, causing her to stumble. As she picked herself up, a business card for le Chateau slipped out of her pocket and fluttered, unnoticed, to the ground. THE END Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hy7Z-0006tG-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 19:30:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9739; Fri, 20 Aug 99 19:28:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2739; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 19:28:46 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 19:29:14 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: Cousins: Waking up is hard to do 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bc54c2e926b31bc7690e86a4a180810f Directly after the end of Enforcers en force 3/? Cousins: Waking up is hard to do 1/1 "Yowmf!" said McLisa, or something like that. It's not easy to ennunciate with your head in a laundry hamper. One minute she was a cat looking up at a nighmare image of drunken enforcers in Halloween costume. The next she was an awake human with a half the Cousins' dirty laundry swamping her. Still, she reflected as she extricated herself and returned to her bed, at least she was rid of the weird craving for catnip. Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HyuO-0000Ww-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 20:21:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9931; Fri, 20 Aug 99 20:19:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5448; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 20:19:08 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 20:15:28 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: War: NA: Truckin with the Harem 03/03 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 947108efdfdcff250f017c0921769596 NA: Truckin with the Harem 03/03 by Patt Elmore When: Evening, Thursday, August 19, 1999 The party at Nick's Harem Where: Harem HQ Addicts all used with permission and input; Harem staff used with permission of the Harem leadership. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Are you sure this is the way?" Dee asked, nervously straightening the burgundy scarves which covered her. "Yes," Patt replied. She was sitting in the *navigator* seat of the van, with Erik at the wheel. "It's just a ways out--privacy factor." "I still think we might be lost," Allie commented. "I doubt it," Jesse grinned, plucking at her aqua and hunter green veils, making them float like butterflies. "I've spent some time with Patt in the RatPacker tunnels. I can assure you that she has a wonderful sense of direction." "Ditto," Caren injected, quite proud of her own gold and white outfit. "Patt might not know where she's going half the time, but she knows how to get there." "Thanks for the endorsement, guys," Patt turned to the back of the van and addressed the passengers. "The Harem is around the next curve, so get ready." The tension was palpable as the addicts held their breaths, wondering what was in store. For many, this was their first real *raid.* NA, you see, is a normally peaceful organization. Adoration of Nunkies is a full time job, leaving little time for clean-up activity, much less attack. "Stop the van, Erik," Patt said suddenly. Erik slammed on the brakes, sending ladies, veils and shoes flying. "Maybe I should have phrased that differently," Patt said, rubbing her shoulder where the seat belt had attacked. "Slow down and come to a gentle halt, please." "Sorry," Erik grinned sheepishly. He checked the rearview mirror for causalities. "Everybody okay?" Mumble, mutter, okay, geesh, kill the driver, etc. etc. Patt spoke to the addicts again. "I really do appreciate you all volunteering to come help me get my truck back, but I hate to put you all into what could well turn into a confrontational situation. If you want to go back now, that's fine. I think I can handle it alone from here." The addicts looked around at each other. "We are not going to leave our friend and comrade to face the Harem hoard alone, are we?" Monica shouted. "Think of all that she's done for us." The addicts looked around at each other again, and began to shrug and wrinkle their noses. "Well, she did appear at my bail hearing, though she ducked out after bond was set," Tiff commented. "But that was because her funds were depleted due to my using her . . ." Christy's voice trailed off as she noticed Patt's attention was one her. Christy gave the mature one a winning smile, then scrunched down into her scarving. "Patt's been there for all of us," Jesse proclaimed. "She's even there when she doesn't need us." The addicts murmured affirmatively. "We're going in with you, Patt." Glennis spoke for everyone. She looked at Christy and Dee for approval. "All for Patt, and Patt for all." "Still constant is a wondrous excellence," Egrus Toga whirred, making his handkerchiefs flutter. "Party! Party! Party!" the addicts began to chant. Patt turned to Erik, just a wee bit of exasperation evident in her expression. "Okay, TDD Erik, to the Harem." Erik grinned and put the van back into gear. Behind them, a small lime-green Volkswagon Beetle (the old kind) pulled out also. "We're being bugged," KC noted. "It's the Toenotes!" Tiff announced, squinting at the pursuing vehicle. "My boyband just can't *live* without me." "We're here," Caren observed as the Harem HQ came into sight. "Okay, ladies," Erik took command. "Covert operation here. Mask up." The women quickly secured veils across their mouths and noses. Erik drove the van to the front of the hotel, coming to a stop as the Harem valet approached. The hunky man looked inside, examining the addicts, who now had their heads demurely bowed. "More wives for his Nickyness," Erik explained as the valet came around to the driver's window. "Yeah, right," the man replied. He pointed to an access road. "Hired help needs to go around to the back." "Hired help?" Ivy started to protest, but Allie clamped a hand over her mouth. They circled the hotel, and approached the service entrance. "I wonder why he sent us back this way?" Glennis said aloud. "I figured we'd be perceived as guests." "Back entrances are good," Erik informed the women. "You're not so noticeable coming in that way." The NunkaMale stopped the van and the women jumped out, scurrying toward the rear entrance. They burst into the kitchen, coming to a skidding stop in front of Mrs. Cook, the Harem cook. "Well, it's about time you arrived," Mrs. Cook said. She began grabbing up platters of party food and placing them in the addicts' hands. "You servers should have been here an hour ago-- the waiters certainly were. The guests are arriving and they look hungry. Nice costumes, by the way." With a shoo-shoo motion, Mrs. Cook pushed the laden addicts into the formal dining area. Confused, the addicts looked around, then beaconed in on Patt. The mature addict shrugged, placed her food tray down on one of the banquet tables and said, "Follow the music." The addicts all put their dishes down and stealthily emulated the advancing Third Cousin. Patt exited the dining room and walked across the reception area, offering the surprised deskman a little wave. The addicts trooped single file across the room, heading towards the main ballroom. Patt walked inside and stopped. Enough eyes to populate a small town turned to stare at the curiously dressed addict. The Third Cousin back pedaled, pushing addicts as she went. Back in the dining area, the addicts began jabbering in panic. "They're all dressed *NORMAL*!" Nite pointed out. "Don't they know this is a Harem party?" Ivy added. "What are we going to do?" several addict spoke at once. Patt grabbed up her platter. "Carry food. It's our only hope to deter detection." "You mean you want us to act as waitresses?" KC demanded. "GODDESSES DO NOT SERVE. THEY ARE SERVED." "Put an artichoke in it, my little condiment," Caren said sweetly. "We're here to find Patt's truck and we'll do what needs to be done to achieve that goal." The other addicts nodded in agreement. "Okay," KC conceded, then grimaced. "But I ain't gonna like it." "Who will?" Dee said, lifting a plate of taquitos. "But, it is the price we pay for helping our friends." So, armed with stuffed anchovies and baby corn, tiny pastries and lots and lots of chocolate, the addicts reentered the Harem ballroom to a now enthusiastic greeting from the crowd. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End part 03/03 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HzL0-0001Uc-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 20:48:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0032; Fri, 20 Aug 99 20:46:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6872; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 20:46:41 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 20:46:46 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Harem Holiday 01/03 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 97e808881d6b7dc0462ebe530272660a NA: Harem Holiday 01/03 by Patt Elmore When: Evening, Thursday, August 19, 1999 The party at Nick's Harem Concurrent and wedged in between segments of "War: Knighties: A Knight out (1/1)" Where: Harem HQ Addicts all used with permission and input; Harem wives and staff used with permission of the Harem leadership. Nick used with permission of the Knightie leadership ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Remember," Patt whispered to the group of addicts. "We're here to locate a wife named Amethyst. She stole the truck and she can tell me where it is. Find her, bring her to me and then let's get out of here." The veiled addicts nodded and, carrying their food trays, began spreading out around the room. Several factions were represented at the party, which was really quite a nice affair. The decorations were very handsome and the live band could actually carry a tune. Everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves. KC sashayed coolly into what she considered the den of infamy. Such sordid goings-on weren't new to the addict. Heck, she practically invented the word 'sordid'! She smiled to Ivy as she walked into the room. "Looks like a great place to stir up some trouble!" she said. Ivy giggled. "Well, maybe we can do some stuff before you get us thrown out on our...what's the word you always use?" "Heinders," KC explained. She tugged at a crimson veil girding her hip. "I dunno. I don't think I can be too evil in the midst of all this fru-fru." "But fru-fru is what NA does best!" Ivy protested. "Well, that and being silly." Ivy took a closer look at KC's left upper thigh, which was poking through the veils. "Say, you'd better tuck that puppy in," Ivy warned. "I don't think these bricksters would take too kindly to one of their guests..." "But we're not guests!" KC interjected. "We're crashers, and have every right as such to do whatever we want!" "Just the same," Ivy continued. "I don't think they'll like anyone here to boldly display the Buzzcut Love Monkey, even if it is in the form of body art!" "Poppycock and piddlypoop!" KC replied slyly. "If anyone asks, I'll just say that it's Joel and that guy from 'Psi-Factor' who happens to bear a striking resemblance to His Nunkiness!" "Great plan," Ivy muttered. "I think about two people will believe that one." "I've got no room for Negative Nancys in this outfit!" KC said. "I don't even have room for weapons in this outfit! Such a waste of fabric!" Patt immediately began to prowl the room, looking for Amethyst. The red-haired addict was nowhere to be found. "Where's Tiff?" Allie whispered to Nite as the two women catered the room. "Last I saw of her, she was in the kitchen," Nite replied, lowering her tray so that one of the guests could snag a canape. The two women looked at each in sudden awareness. "The Toenotes!" "Egrus!" Nite whispered to the little blender who hovered at her feet. "Go tell Tiff to keep a low profile." The blender burped, whirred and headed off. Before he could reach the door, however, one of the waiters grabbed up the little bot and carried the protesting ex-kitchen helper toward the bar. "This one was trying to escape," the waiter said, plopping the blender down on the bar. "Looks like he was taking off with the margueritas." "Thanks," the barman replied, lifting Egrus and placing him among the other regular blending machines. "I'll keep an eye on him." So it was that a klewless Tiff swept into the grand ballroom, the hapless Toenotes in tow. Once again, the room became very quiet. They were kind of used to the Arabic-costumed servers by now, but the brilliantly robed boyband in matching turbans was a new sight. "What's this?" Randora, Harem Wife #1, decided she'd better handle this one personally. "BoyBand," Tiff said innocently, fluttering her eyelashes. "We already have a band," Randora said. "I'm not paying for another." Tiff, used now to addict ways, war maneuvering and potential jail sentences, was quick to reply. "They're part of the entertainment package. They're good. Really!" *flutter* *flutter*. Randora was far from convinced. "I don't think . . ." "You call that a band?" Chad spoke up suddenly, his face contorted in agony. "They sound awful . . . and old." "And, you can do better?" The Toenotes nodded. "You be the judge, lady. Just let us on stage." Randora shrugged. "Okay . . . as long as there are no extra charges involved. We'll let the guests decide who they like best." 'BATTLE OF THE BANDS!" Darryl cried out. From within their robes, the Toenotes retrieved their instruments and jumped up on stage. In a matter of moments, the dance band and the teeny bopper group were going head to head, toe to toe, trying to win the approval of the audience. The crowd, however, was too busy looking for items to stuff in their ears to appreciate the groups' musical endeavors. Then, as if by miracle, the ballroom filled with golden light. Birds began to chirp, dogs began to howl, angels began to sing . . . Well, actually, Nick walked into the ballroom, along with a returning Randora and an entourage of three Knighties. Quite a few ladies caught their breath. Nick smiled at the crowd, and several swooned. "And they think that NA are bad," Patt commented to Erik as they continued hunting the room for Amethyst. "But," Erik reminded her, "they don't drool." Patt hummfffed. "They don't admit it, Erik, but they drool. Trust me, they drool. The party hummed back into motion as Nick melted into the crowd and began circulating. He danced with the ladies of several factions, and began visiting the punch bowl frequently. "Are those stuffed mushrooms?" a portly woman asked KC as the diminutive addict went by. "Yeah," KC challenged. "What of it?" "May I have one, please," the woman asked patiently. "Sure," KC said, thrusting the tray at the woman. "Take them all. Munch till you're punch, for all I care. GODDESSES DO NOT SERVE!" KC stalked off. "What a strange little being," the woman commented aloud, as she began stuffing mushrooms into her mouth. "You mentioned entertainment," Randora said, approaching Tiff again. "When, may I ask, will that be?" "Huhh?" Tiff gave the Harem Wife a very blank look. "The band is nice, but I suspect that your Arabic princess costumes are for a purpose, right?" "I'm not following you." "I was hoping that you'd lead." Tiff blinked. "You want to dance?" Randora smiled. "I thought so. How exciting." She quickly left the addict's side and moved toward the stage. "I did not come here to serve the populace of other factions," KC muttered as she trudged across the room. "Most of these people despise NA anyway. Think we're just a bunch of drooling, toga-clad duffasses. They don't realize that we're an educated group, which chooses to follow a strong, utterly masculine male figure who knows *exactly* what he wants out of life--not like their angsting golden boy." KC stopped in her tracks and snapped her fingers. "That's it. In honor of coming Conversion Day, I will convert. And," she began wiping her hands together, cackling evilly, "if not to Nunkies, then to my army of darkness. They can't resist." Lifting her skirts, KC high-tailed it out of the room. "May I have your attention, please?" Randora was standing in the middle of the stage, lifting her hands for silence. When she had it, she smiled-- especially at Nick. "It is my pleasure to offer you some very interesting, and appropriate, regional entertainment. Here to do a dance of the veils are . . ." she indicated towards Tiff and addicts who stood near her, " . . . are the Jeweled Knights!" Polite applause. Addict confusion. Glaring looks thrown in Tiff's direction. Some shrugging. Chip went for the save. Out of his flowing white robe, the Toenote pulled a long, clarinet-type horn. You know . . . the kind the snake charmers use. He placed it to his lips and began playing. "Errrr, there's been some kind of mistake," Monica said, shaking her head. "We're not dancers." "I'll bet that you'd be wonderful," a strong voice spoke from behind Monica. The addict turned and found herself face to face with a smiling Nick Knight. "I look forward to the show. What's your name?" "Mo . . . Mo . . ." Monica stuttered. Nick grinned. "Now, that's very clever. You girls named yourselves after places. Moroco, right?" Monica shook her head. "Monica," she finally managed. "Well, Monica of Moroco, I have a thing about dancers, you know." The ex-vampire policeman's eyes had lost none of their twinkle with the onslaught of mortality. "Won't you please dance . . . for me?" Nodding, a starry-eyed Monica headed toward the stage. "I'm Dee of Dammam," the burgundy clad addict said eagerly, as she passed by Nick. "Ivy of Istanbul." The addicts continued to file by, heading for the dais. "Caren of Al Qaseem." "Nice colors," Nick commented to the Louisiana woman as she passed by. "Gold and white . . . they suit you." Caren nodded in pleasure and hurried toward the stage. "Jesse of Jeddah," the teenager announced, skipping by. "A true *Jeddah* Knight," Nick quipped. Jesse turned and grinned through her veil. "And I swing a mean light saber, too. Want a demo?" "Maybe later," the ex-vampire detective grinned back. He turned to watch the other women pass. "Nite of a Thousand," Nite said. "Have you seen a missing blender?" Nick shook his head and Nite continued on her way. "Glennis of Yemen," Glen glowed as she walked by. Nick frowned. "No alliteration?" he inquired. Glennis straightened up and tossed her head. "I ain't that kind of harem girl, Nickie poo. Sorry." "Allie of Baba," Allie said as she passed, her eyes glittering. "Let me guess," Nick said as Christy approached. He studied the Disney trademark perched on top of her head. "Minnie of Mouse?" "Close," Christy joked back. "Actually, I was going to go by Christy of Capri, but in honor of your request, Minnie it is." As the addicts took the stage, the audience began to clap politely. Chad pulled out a zither and the Toenotes began to play. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 01/03 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HzlR-0004xS-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 21:16:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3852; Fri, 20 Aug 99 21:14:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8900; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 21:14:03 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 21:14:44 -0400 Reply-To: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Organization: @Home Network Member Subject: WAR: GSS: A Phone Call and a Letter 01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 11e144e48a85912e6390378d75d991b6 WAR: GSS: A Phone Call and a Letter 01/01) Time: Wednesday the 18th, 11:21 AM Location: GSS HQ After: Harem: Couch Caper By: Jennifer Okerlund (Agent Ice) "What do you mean my couch is missing?????" Agent Ice screamed into the phone. On the other end of the line the woman had to hold the phone two feet away from her ear to keep from going deaf. "It was stolen last night after we had closed ma'am. Taken out of the van." The lady from the repair company explained. "You mean to tell me it had been left in the van all night? Well no wonder it was taken!" Ice all but growled into the receiver. "Yes ma'am. We know it shouldn't have happened. It's against the company rules but it was closing time and the men who picked it up left before putting it inside " Before the lady could continue further, there was a knock at the door. "Hold on." Ice stated and pushed the mute button on the phone. She set it down and answered the door. It was Bob carrying an envelope. "Hey Jennifer, this letter came this morning and we figured it you were the person whom it was addressed to." He handed it to her. "It doesn't look good." Ice took the white envelope and looked at the address. Former Keepers of the Couch c/o CERK Radio Toronto "You're right. It doesn't." She said grimly and opened it. She pulled out a small piece of chiffon and a piece of paper. The only word on the paper was, "Liberated!" She tucked the note back in the envelope. "Someone has stolen my couch. The only clue we have is this." She held up the scrap of fabric. "I'd better get working on finding who did this." "Well, if you need any help, let me know." Bob offered. "Thanks. Will do." With that, she watched him turn and make his way down the corridor. She walked back to the desk and picked up the phone, pushing the mute button again. "You still there?" She asked doubtfully. "Yes ma'am." Came the reply of the lady's voice. "Look, I'll get in touch with you later about this. I have other matters to attend to." With that, Ice hung up and sat on her bed to think. *Fin* From - Fri Aug 20 21:33:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I002-0003Pc-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 21:31:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2326; Fri, 20 Aug 99 21:29:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9841; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 21:29:09 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 18:31:02 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs-- Of Vampires and men (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e94d9502e142fc0cc2d258f791c49bcb From: tracysue@quik.com (Tracy S.Morris) Of Vampires and men (1/1) Date: August 20th The Shrine of the Vaqs Toronto, ON 1 pm Lucien LaCroix used with permission of the Cousins Lacroix looked around the Headquarters of Nunkies Anonymous. His eyes narrowed with barely suppressed anger. These were not the specifications he contracted the renovators to make. The divans were gone. As were the tapestries and busts. The roman urns remained, but they were filled with White Calla Lilies. When he found Patt Elmore, he might just kill her this time. Never one to loose his cool, Lacroix strolled through the shrine at a fear inspiring pace. Even as a mortal, he retained his vampire dignity. The shrine seemed deserted. A mortal's footsteps echoed behind him. He turned, and was amazed to see the Vaquera Tracy Sue there. "You!" His eyes narrowed. "You can cut the theatrics, old man." Tracy Sue said coldly. "You may have scared the heebies out of me as a vampire. But you're mortal now." She was carrying a cue stick in her hand. Without even a backward glance, she returned to the billiards room. Fuming at her insolence, Lacroix followed. He knew Tracy Sue well. She liked to visit the shrine under the pretensions of being an addict. And yet, when the time came for true loyalty, she always returned to the Spaniard. It was she who stole his credit cards and charged hideous sums on them. He still hadn't repaid her for that. "My mortal state is a temporary thing, I assure you." Tracy Sue's response was the ivory strike of the cue ball against the other billiards. "Where is Patt?" "Probably at the Vaquera/o's church with the Rest of Nunkies Anonymous." "Why aren't they here?" "Why don't you ask them?" "I will be back, girl." "Looking foreward to it." She watched his departure out of the corner of her eye. Despite all her chutzpa, she knew that Lacroix was menacing, even when mortal. Once he returned to his Vampire state, she would have to lay low for a while. Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Why? Because I'm a sucker for Vachon! _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 20 21:27:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hwic-0003oi-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 18:01:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1227; Fri, 20 Aug 99 17:58:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5072; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 17:58:04 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 17:59:21 EDT Reply-To: Maelynd31@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Angela Brown Subject: WAR: NNPack: It Doesn't Pay to be a Fish To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a60f6e85a0131dea267de62778fd47e6 It Doesn't Pay to be a Fish Time: Friday Afternoon, 8/20/99 Location: NNPack HQ By: Angela (aka Gypsy Witch) Carrie and Squeakers used with permission Angela peered around the door of her room, making sure the hallway was clear of cats for the moment. Ever since the cats had been dropped off at the theater, Angela had had a heck of a time keeping them out of her room. The cats that belonged in the theater with their various NNPack owners were bad enough, but with several dozen *more* cats, life had become impossible for Angela and Sheeba, her miniature albino white shark. She *almost* preferred the rats..... not quite, but almost. Noting that the coast was clear -- for the moment, at least -- Angela scooted out the door, closing it firmly behind her. There, that should give Sheeba some peace and quiet, she thought to herself as she turned and made her way towards the kitchen in search of a snack. Upon entering the kitchen, Angela nearly ran into Carrie, holding a tissue to her reddened nose. Her eyes were watery, and as Angela tried to apologize for nearly running her fellow NNPacker down, Carrie unceremoniously sneezed. "Bless you," Angela said. "Thank you," Carrie replied, her voice muffled by the tissue as she then blew her nose. "What's wrong?" Angela asked, concerned about Carrie's apparent distress. "Have we been attacked and I don't realize it yet?" Carrie shook her head, and waved a hand at the far side of the kitchen in explanation, dabbing at her eyes with another tissue. Angela gazed in the direction of Carrie's wave, and saw one of the largest cats she'd ever seen. A very fat, very indignant cat sitting on the counter. "I'm *allergic* to cats!" wailed Carrie. "And they're ALL OVER THE PLACE now. It's miserable!" "And here I thought *I* had it bad," said Angela. "They just attack Sheeba, knock over her tank, and try to get to her for a snack." She shook her head. "Is there anything I can do for you, Carrie? Anything at all?" Carrie shook her head miserably. "Not unless you can help get *rid* of these cats!" she said, and left the kitchen, sniffling and trying not to sneeze again. Angela walked over to Squeakers, the cat in question. This wasn't a visiting cat; this one belonged in the theater; he belonged to Nir, and was *always* in the kitchen. "Well," she said to Squeakers, reaching up to scratch his ears, "at least *you* don't try to play with Sheeba!" Squeakers gave her a look that begged for a snack. "No, I don't think Nir would appreciate it if I contributed to your eating habits," Angela said with a chuckle. She made her way to the storage area, and raided the snack department. She had helped set up the kitchen when they all arrived, so she knew they'd stocked her favourite brand of potato chips. She snagged a bag, and headed back out of the kitchen, Squeakers making a last ditch dive at her as she passed him, as if he were ready to snatch the potato chip bag in his own paws. Angela practically leapt towards the kitchen door, giggling as she dodged the cat's attempts to hijack her chips. "Now now, Squeakers," she admonished as the cat made one final swipe in the direction of her bag, "get your own bag!" With that, she turned and sprinted out of the kitchen, chip bag held protectively in one arm, as Squeakers took up his spot on the kitchen counter again, awaiting the next unsuspecting member of the NNPack to come along. Angela wended her way through the hallways, avoiding at least four other cats on her way back to her own room. She liked cats, but this was getting ridiculous! Arriving at the door, Angela grasped the knob, then looked both ways and waited until the coast was clear to slip back into her room. To no avail. Two cats had found a way into her *closed* room while she was down in the kitchen, had once again knocked over Sheeba's tank, and were playing a game of dodgeball with Sheeba's bubble-gum-dispenser shaped tank. The poor shark didn't know which way was up! "Grrrrrrrrr," Angela growled. Both cats looked up, saw her, and scrammed through the partially open door. She slammed it behind them, and went to pick up Sheeba's tank again. She set it on her desk, upright once more, and shook her head. At least the war was about half over, and soon Sheeba wouldn't have to worry about all the cats anymore. Well, at least not for another year Angela (aka Gypsy Witch) War Correspondent, NNPack Keeper of the Flame War 9 Vet From - Fri Aug 20 22:18:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I0fU-0004x0-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 22:14:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2609; Fri, 20 Aug 99 22:11:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2761; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 22:11:57 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 21:11:55 -0500 Reply-To: macman@worldnetla.net Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Scott Greer Subject: WAR:Vaqs: Where, Oh Where Can My Little Cat Be?? (or how we go to the store) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c6266dab6f15bbb816651de530f4699a Disclaimer: All Vaq members, Vachon and Carmecita are used with their own permission. Bev, Kathy, Spifff and any other FoD reference are used with their permissions as well. The NNP Theatre is used with the grateful permission of the NNPack, and Soulseeker, Susan B., Monique and Shannon are used by their own accord. Robyn and Grace are used with Robyn s permission. Halbertsons, MeowieCat Cat Food, and Oscar the Cat are figments of my sick and twisted mind. Friday, August 20, 1999 The Vaq Shrine, Toronto, ON Around 8PM Where, Oh Where Can My Little Cat Be?? (or how we go to the store) Boy, if it s not one thing, it s another. If it wasn t bad enough that someone had kidnapped Vachon and dyed his hair pink, and the Vaqs had moved their headquarters, then the Mercs had to go and take Vachon s beloved Carmecita. For those of you who are Vachon-challenged, Carmecita (Carmen for short), is the V-man s cat. His very beloved cat. Now, however, she was gone ..and he couldn t do anything because he didn t know where she was. Of course, some of the Vaqs knew, and they were busy planning her rescue. Any volunteers? asked Felicia, the Vaq Wonder twin #2. I know I want to help Javier get his cat back, myself, she said. Teresita, the Vaq Wonder Twin #1, Melissa, and Tabitha all raised their hands. Then let s go plan this thing out!! said Felicia. They left Scott behind with Javier. Scott, the ever cat hating individual, listened to this problem, and said Jav, you can live without her .she s JUST a cat. Vachon didn t feel the same way. JUST a cat!! Scott, how can you say that!! She has been there for me .she s all I have, other than the Vaqs. (Sad but true story follows) Of course, Scott had a good reason to hate cats. Growing up, his mother had three in the house. Just before Scott turned 18, his parents gave him a waterbed for Christmas. Two of the cats were just a couple of months old, and curious, as all cats are. Several mornings, Scott woke up wet and he thought that the cats had taken care of their personal business on his bed. But the real truth came out a few months later. One night Scott woke up to a thump thump sound. It wasn t the whammy, it was a cat swatting at the waves ..with full claws out. Each swat dug further into the bed until Scott felt that wet feeling again. About that time, Scott sat up in bed and tossed the cat out (no cats were harmed). About that time, the other Vaqs had begun to plan the rescue. They knew the NNPack had gotten all the cats in the city and placed them in their theatre. Felicia was gathering her Kenpo weapons, including the long staff, and the two short ones too. Teresita began pacing and thinking. What do cats like more than anything?? VWT #1 asked. "Hmmmm..food maybe...and sleeping twisted up like pretzels." Felicia responded, "Cats..., pretzels..., food... Why don't we go down to Halbertsons and look around the pet section. We have to find something there. Great idea, Felicia, said Melissa, Maybe we can get them all back with some MeowieCat Cat Food. I ve heard that they really go for that stuff. Tabitha, who had been unusually silent until now, said isn t that the one with Oscar the Cat?? I think he s cool!! With that, the Vaq Rescue Crew left. Inside Halbertsons The Rescue Crew entered the cavernous grocery store Halbertsons. Halbertsons is one of the biggest grocery companies around, and if you couldn t find it there, you just couldn t get it. Where s the pet section? asked Felicia. BEEEP .CLEANUP ON AISLE THREE, rang the intercom. Let s split up, Teresita said, and that way, when one of us finds it, we ll yell across the store, okay? They all agreed, and went their separate ways. Bad idea!! Teresita went to the back of the store, where the Bakery was. She started looking at all the pastries, cookies, and donuts. Boy, all of a sudden I m hungry. I wonder if they have anything good, she said. She stood there for about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, Melissa was wandering near the cosmetics section. OOO I don t have that color, and it s PERFECT!! She was oblivious to the outside world, including the reason she was there. Over in the Wine section, Felicia was staring intensely at the vast array of wines available. Woo-Hoo, Red Wine!! I like red wine. Felicia, as you can imagine by now, was also lost in her own mind. The only one who was doing her job was Tabitha. She had followed the call to aisle three at the beginning and found that it was where they needed to be. But she couldn t yell in the middle of the store. That would be embarrassing. She waited a few minutes, then went to the Deli and asked if they could page someone. They did. BEEEP ..WOULD THE PEOPLE WHO CAME IN WITH TABITHA PLEASE MEET HER ON AISLE THREE!!! Each of the other three Vaqs came and met her there, each armed with a shopping cart (or for the southerners, buggies). They grabbed all the MeowieCat cat food they could find on the shelves. The also grabbed a bunch of cat toys as well as a generous supply of catnip. As they headed for the checkouts, Felicia got out the VampExpress Credit card. I hope we didn t go over the limit on this thing. I d hate for the card to bounce now, she said. The checker started ringing up the mountains of cat food. The checker asked do you guys work for the humane society or something?? Teresita replied no, we re just cat lovers, that s all. The total was in: $1,289.54. As the checker swiped the card, she couldn t help but wonder what this was for. As the approval came through, they couldn t help but think about what the next payment would be on that card. Then, the bag boy came up and looked at how much he had to take out. With a doubting look, he pushed and pulled the numerous carts out the door. On the way out to the car, Teresita noticed some people who looked kinda familiar. Hey guys, it s the FoDs, or a few of them at least!! Before them stood Kathy, Bev and Spifff., and judging by the look in their faces, they knew what the Vaqs were doing. You guys getting a little kitty fest going there?? asked Kathy. Knowing that the FoDs knew EXACTLY where they were going and why, Teresita said , No, but I bet you guys want to be where we are going. Ever the inquisitive one, Bev asked (innocently), Where? We re going to save our beloved Vachon s reason for living, his Carmecita, Felicia said. Thinking only momentarily, Kathy said, Can we help? I volunteered my time to the humane society many times over, so I know quite a bit about catching animals, especially cats. Bev, who also considered herself a cat rescue expert, nodded her approval, as did Spifff. With that, they headed to the theatre. At The NNPack Theatre Everybody looked at the theatre in a state of shock and bewilderment. How are we gonna get in? It s closed, said Teresita. Felicia, who was looking for a way to enhance and possibly use her fabulous Kenpo skills, said Let me see if I can kick the door in. This was followed by a loud THUNK!! and Felicia yelling CRAP!! That was my foot!! Looking around a little more, they found a little window. Tabitha climbed up and looked in, finding that the window was in a hallway, and a door that they could open was nearby. The whole rescue crew watched as Tabs climbed in the window, and then they waited as she came to the door. Hearing the sounds of cats, she yelled They re heeeere!! As the door opened, they saw Soulseeker, Susan B., Monique and Shannon, who were NNPackers. Soulseeker spoke for the group: Please help us get these cats out of here!! With that they started shaking the bags of MeowieCat. Then, as if in a trance, Cats began flowing down the hallway they had come into. Cat after cat had passed, with no sight of Carmecita. There was, however, Grace, a black and gold Tabby that belonged to Robyn, an NP who had asked that the Vaqs find her precious kitty. Finally, the flow thinned, and a familiar cat to the Vaqs came around the corner. Carmen!! c mere!! said Felicia. Carmen always liked her. She ran into Felicia s arms. Yes you poor little thing. We ll take you back to daddy!! she said. As this happened, the other rescuers began the long task of gathering cats to return or their owners. After the last cat was rounded up they packed up the (little) remaining MeowieCat and left. They stopped by Robyn s house and left Grace to a very happy owner. A Tearful Reunion As Scott and Javier sat talking, the Vaq rescue crew returned. Javier jumped out of his chair, ran to them and asked the obvious question, Did you find my beloved Carmecita?? They all looked at him, and almost in unison (as women often do) they said, Of course! Felicia added have we ever let you down before, Jav? He looked, then asked, Well, where is she? About that time Felicia opened the weapon bag and out came Carmecita, who quickly ran to Javier. He took her in his arms and a tear ran down his face. What s wrong? Melissa asked. I really missed her. She s all I have besides you all, he replied. About that time, Scott asked, Can I hold her? Javier said Sure. Obviously, Javier had won the Just a cat argument. The End Scott Greer mailto:macman@worldnetla.net The Maverick ".....revenge is a dish best served cold...." Khan Noonien Singh,Star Trek II From - Sat Aug 21 00:03:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I179-0005RC-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 22:42:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0553; Fri, 20 Aug 99 22:40:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3799; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 22:40:30 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 22:36:12 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS: I Wanna Be a Poobah, Too To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ce62ad94c7bf514211db4009fbe6cfc4 MERCS: I Wanna Be a Poobah Too by Laurie MercBard Friday early evening, August 20 Shrine used with permission *POOF* F. Hugh popped into a corner of the Shrine, peering cautiously out from behind a pillar. Things looked different. The temple he had come to know, love, and leave had been redecorated, in even worse taste than before. *So it is true,* the evil fan fic fairy thought, *Those Nunkheads are gone." His eyes glazed over and he stared into space. * * Flashback to earlier in the day . . . The Poobah's secret non-sensible shoe phone abruptly jangled, waking F. Hugh from a dream about his deeply repressed despicable past, involving Nunkie, whipped cream and ... never mind. *It's the Poobah's secret non-sensible shoe phone. Hmm, wonder what old tv show she stole that idea from, * snickered the fairy, as he dug through the pile of shoes in which the Poobah had cleverly hidden the shoe phone. Actually, it wasn't that clever, as the shoe phone kept flashing neon lights, and was thus very easy to find. He picked the receiver up by its cord, and dropped it on the desk in front of the Poobah, or more precisely, on the Poobah's left index finger. "OUCH!!!! That HURT," the Poobah yelped, swatting at the air. She picked up the receiver and spoke. "Hi, this is Nick Knight. I'm either in bed or incommunicado smothering under a puppy pile. Leave a message." Laurie abruptly jumped up in a frenzy. F. Hugh cocked an interested ear. Something was *definitely* up. "PECTIN! Where have you been? I've been *waiting* to hear from you. What's going on over at that Shrine to Moronity?" More listening. F. Hugh twitched his little fairy wings in anticipation. "They've done what? The Vaqs are where? They've asked you to do WHAT??" F. Hugh dove for his earplugs, as the VOICE emerged. "NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!. A thousand times no, only I won't use up precious post space typing it that many times. FORGET IT. You stay exactly where you are. NOBODY tells my Merc mole what to do, least of all a bunch of BIKER BOOBS." All the warm fuzzies she had felt (or would have felt, if it was possible for a Poobah to feel such things) towards the Vaqs for rescuing her from NA last war went flying out the window. More listening. A wide grin spread across Laurie's face. F. Hugh eagerly removed his earplugs.. "Really? That's GREAT news. About time the little buggers came to their fan fic fairy senses. I'll send F. Hugh over to check it out." She hung up the phone, staring at the receiver in her hand. "Hmm, nice non-sensible shoe. I think I'll wear it for a while." * end flashback * Back at the Shrine * POOF* *POOF* * POOF* * POOF* *POOF* * POOF* * POOF* *POOF* * (NOTE: See previous entry on multiplying NOs and apply to POOF.) F. Hugh returned to fan fic fairy reality, as hordes of newly-unionized fairies arrived. They all wore smart new uniforms, and chattered excitedly about rates of pay, overtime, paid holidays, and maternity leaves of absence. (Yup, even fan fic fairies fornicate occasionally.) F. Hugh hadn't been hanging with the Poobah for nothing. "SHUT UP!," he bellowed, in an astonishing replication of the VOICE. Except that scaled down to fan fic fairy size, it came out in a pint sized squeaky MINI-VOICE. But amazingly, the fan fic fairies did just that. Yup, that's right. Evil fan fic fairy F. Hugh bellowed "SHUT UP" in a tiny squeaky fan fic fairy MINI-VOICE and hordes of agitated fan fic fairies obeyed. What's more, they lined up in nice, tidy rows and saluted. F. Hugh felt his little fan fic fairy heart beat stronger and faster. Well, actually, no, that's a lie. F. Hugh, being the personal evil fan fic fairy of the Grand High Poobah, did not have a heart. (NOTE: See above reference to Poobah's hearts.) But still he knew. He was standing on the threshold of power. Power there for the taking. All he had to do was reach out and grab it. Being an evil fan fic fairy, that's exactly what he did. "I AM YOUR LEADER!!!" screeched the MINI-VOICE, furiously flapping his wings. "I AM YOUR GRAND HIGH POOBUG!!! I AM YOUR MINI-ME!!!!" The gathered fairies looked consideringly at this raging ball of motion, as F. Hugh continued, "I WILL BRING YOU GREAT PROFIT. I WILL BRING YOU GREAT POWER. I WILL ONLY MAKE YOU WORK FOR TWO WEEKS A YEAR." "We already only work two weeks a year," a fan fic fairy piped up. "Although that's not counting the NA stories. Sorry, got to do better than that." "I WILL GIVE YOU GREAT STORYLINES. BETTER THAN NUNKIE HAS." This stirred some interest. F. Hugh thought fast. "I WILL GIVE YOU YOUR OWN FACTION. The fan fic fairy faction. The 4Fs." At this, several fairies joined little fairy hands and flitted around in a circle, squeaking, "We've got our *own* faction, we've got our *own faction*." But an undercurrent of grumbling could still be heard from the rear. F. Hugh considered. "Okay, how about this? I won't let anyone use you in a story without the permission of Bons, the fan fic fairy creator? How's that?" All the newly made 4Fers jumped up and down, squeaking endlessly, at the mention of their favorite scribe. Even though they'd turned union, many still had a soft spot for their beloved creator. And especially the stories she wrote. "BE QUIET!!!" F. Hugh glared at his troops. (Well, okay, that's a lie. They're not his troops quite yet, but give me a paragraph or two.) Mollified with their new found freedom from faceless fan fiction fairy fiction (perhaps the 8Fs would be a better name?), Bons' fan club calmed down. One had a final question. "Can we still redeem the Personal Tranquility Devices that the faction leaders have?" she asked tremulously, slightly awed by F. Hugh's new-found majesty; his wing span had increased by an entire 1/1000 of a centimeter since he had taken the reigns of power. "Bons *said* we should, right? And she has 4F control, right? She's our faction leader." "I AM YOUR FACTION LEADER," shrilled the MINI-VOICE. "But," he added magnanimously. "She can be my second in command. So yes, you may continue to deliver the PTDs. And you may also continue to reside at this .... this ... this monstrosity if you so choose." "Just make sure I get my cut," he added darkly. "Or tiny fan fic fairy heads will roll." *POOF* F. Hugh popped out of view, heading back to Merc Central, quite pleased with his new position as Grand High Poobug of the 4Fers, aka the FK Fan Fic Fairy Guild. The world was his oyster, he had it all on a plate. Not a worry. Not a care. Well, maybe just a *tiny* minor one. Like just how was he going to explain to the Grand High Poobah that he had given story control of the fan fic fairies back to, of all people, the Nunkie Anonymous Scribe? * finis * From - Sat Aug 21 00:03:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I1ln-0006op-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 23:24:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3094; Fri, 20 Aug 99 23:18:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9832; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 23:17:54 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 23:15:54 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: CUZ: "I'll Get You, My Pretty--and Your Little *Lobster*, Too!" (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5cac432ea5d439ffbcfcdad46cdf5a79 Date: Saturday morning, August 21st, at 11 AM Where: In Cousine Celeste's office at CERK Cousin Lisa Prince appears groggily, but by her own volition. "I'LL GET YOU, MY PRETTY -- AND YOUR LITTLE *LOBSTER*, TOO (1/1) By Cousine Celeste Cousine Celeste was comfortably ensconced in her sunny office, typing up a report for the Cousinly Leaders... ha! Those adorable little Enforcement scamps, the things they got up to. What a rip! Of course, if they came anywhere near Uncle, they'd be scamp-toast. Gozer lay, asleep, on the warm VCR as it ran the Due South episode "The Edge." Poor Fraser, worried that he was getting older, that he was losing his edge... it was this Cousine's opinion that ol' Fraze was ageing rather nicely, but hey, whatever.... ::CRASH!:: Suddenly Cousin Lisa, the ties on her black silk robe flying, slippers flapping on her feet, came bursting through the door. "OMIGOODNESS!" the cousin gasped. Gozer jumped up two feet in the air, did a mid-air whirl and landed on Lisa's back, claws firmly extended and sinking in for a better hold. "Oww," Lisa squealed, "get this demon kitty *off* me." She shimmied and shook and gyrated in a vain attempt to dislodge the fiendish feline. "Too bad, you're the one who came running in here like a... like a... like an over-excited Nunkies Addict. So what's the problem *now*," snapped Cousine Celeste (she wasn't PMSing, she was just naturally crabby.) "Were dozens of giant boxes of over-ripe peaches just delivered to CERK?" "NO... uh, *what*?" Lisa looked confused, as she continued in her attempts to reach the cat on her back. Gozer, it might be added, was settling in for a long ride: 'Call me Houdini, will she?' If a cat could chuckle evilly, that's the sound that Lisa would have heard coming from the vicinity of her back. The Cousine shrugged. "Sorry... wrong War... I was hungry, that's all. What happened?" "I was asleep. There I lay in the arms of Morpheus, blissfully bundled like a burbling baby, dozing like a drowsy dauphin, and, and...," Lisa looked up from where she scrambled for a grip on the cat and saw the Cousine impatiently tapping her fingernails on the desk. "You realize it's 11 in the morning? And you were *still* asleep?" Lisa decided she'd better collect herself and stop the Nicolas Chevalieresque monologue. "...and I had a dream that Uncle turned back into a vampire a little under two weeks from now and the first thing he did was get his terrifying and somewhat bloody revenge on us for snarking off at him at the end of the Cousinly meeting the other day!" she blurted it out in one breath. Having gotten that off her chest, she began to spin around and around in a circle in a vain attempt to get her other problem off her back. Gozer gave a tiny cat snicker and flicked his tail in front of Lisa's face just long enough for her to nearly grab it, then swished it out of her reach Celeste turned white. "What makes you think he'll go all vampirical again in two weeks?" she said. Lisa rolled her eyes. "Geez, Celeste. Haven't you noticed these bizarre things that happen to us about twice a year in Toronto always seem to take *exactly* two weeks to run their course?" *Gulp* No, she hadn't noticed. "W-w-what are we going to do?" "I think some major-league kissing-up to the General is in order," said Lisa. "That is, of course, assuming I can ever get this *!%$&* CAT OFF MY BACK!!!" "Forget about the cat!" Celeste said, "It'll never work, LaCroix will see through us in a New York minute!" "So what? Sure he'll know we're brown-nosing. He *loves* having his butt kissed, he lives for it... he'll *know*, but he'll STILL appreciate it, and remember later on.... Now, would you help me with this evil *creature from HELL*?" The Everett-cat had nearly disappeared from view, all that was left of him were his claws, his evil grin, and the tip of his tail. The Cousine leaned back in her chair, fingers steepled in a curiously Spock-like mannerism, more important things on her mind than Lisa's little problem. "Hmmm... I have an idea...." * * * To Be Continued in "Lobsters and Chowder and Crabs, Oh MY!" ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Sat Aug 21 00:03:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I1cw-0007Be-00; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 23:15:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0997; Fri, 20 Aug 99 23:10:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8951; Fri, 20 Aug 1999 23:10:39 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 21:08:09 -0600 Reply-To: Stormer Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stormer Subject: WAR: NNPack & FODS: "LaCroix and Sydney walk into a diner..." To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b8cc7bac817ad75f52e1b81a3b532a14 LaCroix and Sydney walk into a Diner By Rogue Cousin Tammy and Cindy Brewer Timeline: August 19, afternoon. FOD's used with permission by Cindy NNPack used with permission by Tammy ----------- It had started out innocently enough, LaCroix and Sydney had found their way into the kitchen of the NNPack theatre. Their mistress, the Rogue Cousin, had told them to behave and had gone to plot with some other NNPackers about getting more pieces of the Galen Cube. 'She's awfully obsessed with getting those silly magikal puzzle pieces,' Sydney noted absently. Being the elder familar, he didn't think his 'mama' witch needed anything but him, her alter and occasionally the his nasty little co-hort LaCroix. 'Hrumph, shows you what you know CAT?' LaCroix sat on his back legs, and 'arched his eyebrow' in a very familiar fashion. 'She's concerned that my namesake won't become a vampire again, his true and proper state, unless she has his wayward son re-assemble the Galen Cube.' Sydney snickered, 'I'm like butter, you're like glue... Slides off of me and sticks to you! You're HIS namesake not the other way round, buddy boy... He's older than you by a Millenia!" LaCroix's eyes would have been glowing if he had been a vampire and not a ferret, 'Well at least I'm not named after a coroner's two bit flea bag...' 'Overgrown, animate slinky...' Sydney howled in outrage over the ferret's slander. 'If it weren't for you tuna breath, Momma would be with her true faction right now... A cousin! But you encourage her lightside... Prepare to die, Padouan Cat...' LaCroix started his most serious war dance. Sydney's back arched high and his fur stood out, 'The force is with me, Darth Ferret.' ------ The cooks that were in the kitchen were suddenly deluged by the rampage of two seemingly insane animals. The ferret chased Sydney across the cupboards, knocking over simultaneously the ketchup, mustard, and sauerkraut while tromping through the bowl of fresh chili someone had made for lunch. Just as Amanda was about to catch the ferret they both dove into an open drawer and disappeared from site. Bangs, clatters and crashes accompanied by the shattering of glass and the howls of an outraged cat were heard as they made their way through the cupboards. Suddenly they reappeared in the pantry as Marci opened the door and screamed as both the cat and the ferret landed in sequence in the open flour bag coating themself and her in a cloud of dust. The animals disappeared out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Amanda and Marci looked at each other and chased after the two miscreant creatures. ------ Soul and Susan were in the midst of a planning session when a scream permeated the walls of Soul's sound proof office. "What in heck's name is that?" Susan asked. "No Idea! Maybe we're under attack." The faction leaders rose from their seats, opened the door and peered out. It was a bad idea, a very bad idea. They were met by a crowd of angry packers, chasing down two very messy creatures who vered sharply to the right and through Soul and Susan's legs. "LaCroix", Susan yelled. "Sydney", Soul screamed. The crowd of NNPackers became a pile up that the 401 would have been proud of. Soul and Susan slammed the door to trap the animals in a place where they could catch them. ------ "Tammy", Susan's voice was tense, very tense. Tammy turned around to see her friend Sue, covered in bits of chili, paper and flour. "Um... What happened to you?" Tammy thought she knew already and was afraid to find out she was correct. "This - Happened - To - Me!" Sue held out the ferret and the cat. "Uh... Sorry." Tammy shrugged apologetically as she took the creatures from Susan, "Animals? Can't live with 'em..." "Exactly..." Susan interupted, "Unless you want them turned into mittens and a scarf, I'd take them elsewhere..." Susan turned abruptly and started to walk away, then turned back and gave a half smile, "Come back in a couple of hours when everyone can see how funny this was... Maybe we could consider this a FoSiL attack!" Rogue Cousin Tammy turned to Nir whom she'd been plotting with, "Want to walk with me?" "Think we can catch some food on the way?" Nir looked at the retreating back of the faction assistant leader, "I don't think the kitchen is in any shape for lunch!" "Sure we can see what we can dig up..." Tammy pulled harnesses and leashes from her pocket and slipped them on the mucky animals. "After we've hosed these little dudes off." -------- After hosing the two malcontents off in the alley, which caused a riot of catty howls and angry bounces, (Ed. Note: Ferret's are natural NatPackers, they bounce so naturally!) the two NNPackers meandered their way along the Toronto streets. Nir's head kept swivelling from side to side. Tammy smiled, she was a veteran, not only of the war but of Toronto as well, nothing surprised her about her favorite city any more. "First time in a big city?" She asked conversationally. "No," Nir looked at her kind of nervously, "It's all the rats I see in the alleys. I swear their watching us and waiting to swarm." The Rogue Cousin looked around cautiously, but rats, even a hundred rats didn't really bother a person who'd tweek the nose of the general. She shared the "I scoff in the face of danger" insanity with a certain coroner. However caution was the better part of valour. "There's the Happy Souvlaki," Tammy pointed up the street to the diner, "How about eating there?" "Anywhere... At least if they attack we'll have help!" Nir started moving quicker as she walked towards the deli. "Good... I was craving Souvlaki and wouldn't want anyone to know... Garlic and Uncle don't mix. At least not until now..." Tammy slipped into a Nunkie fantasy for a moment about introducing the General to the wonders of Greek cuisine but was pulled out of it by the rumbling of her tummy. Nir was already seated when Tammy came in with her pets in tow. Cindy nearly dropped the stack of plates she was carrying out of the kitchen at Lori's startled scream. Kathy and Bev joined her as they went to investigate what had startled the newbie. "Lori,you alright?" Bev asked as she came to stand at the woman's right as the group peered over the counter at the main area of the deli. "I think I see the problem." Cindy remarked as she set the dishes down on the counter. After War 8 nothing should surprise her during a war but a ferret and a cat in a deli? More importantly Nat's cat. "Do we have a no pet policy?" Lori asked recovering her voice. Cindy glanced at Spiff, "Not that I know of." Kathy grinned,"With all the animals involved in this war we can't afford to have that policy." "I'll go take their order." Bev commented as she picked up a small pad of paper and a pencil and walked around the counter. "Welcome to the Happy Souvlaki."Bev stated as she approached the table,"Are you ready to order?" Tammy nodded as she held onto the two leashes, "We'll have the house special." Bev nodded,"I'll be right back with your drinks." "Thanks."Tammy replied. The rest of the FoD's continued about their duties. Time passed quickly as orders were taken and filled. Cindy was in the kitchen helping Spiff with a large order when they heard a large commotion from the main room. The FoD's exchanged an alarmed look before racing out of the deli. They were just in time to see Syndey chase the ferret pass the counter nearly knocking Ron off her feet in the process. The ferrett suddenly changed direction heading through the kitchen door and out the back door of the deli. Spiff was able to dodge the ferret successfully but Syndey caught the edge of her right ankle as the cat raced past. The blonde woman spun before grabbing for the swinging door to catch her balance. "I'm so sorry." Tammy exclaimed as she helped Spiff regain her balance, "They're usually very well behaved. I have no idea what got into them." "What's the ferret's name?" Leah asked as she joined the group, "Maybe we can help catch it." "LaCroix." Tammy replied as she led the FoD's into the kitchen,"I have no idea what could have got their attention." "A ferret named after Uncle." Ron muttered from the rear of the group, "That fits." The group exited the back door and quickly spotted the pair of wayward pets fending off several unwanted guests. "Rats!" Spiff exclaimed as the group stood in the alley,"Everybody block the door! I will not have rats in the Deli!" The FoD's backed up and formed a makeshift barracade protecting the back door. "I think LaCroix and Syndey have things under control." Rav pointed out pointing to the rear of the alley were the pets were. "That's my baby's..." Tammy picked up both of her bloody-mouthed little creatures as they finished their meals, licking there chops and came over to wind between her legs and bounce excitedly. She nuzzled their faces causing a group "EWWWWW!!!" including Nir. (Ed. Note: What do you expect she's a Nunkie and a Cousin... She likes bloody mouthed creatures!) "Are your pet's always like this?" Cindy asked hesitantly. The other FODs were mumbling amoungst themselves excitedly. "Yeah... We come from a 100% rat free province. All our predatory type pets catch 'em and eat 'em", Tammy sounded more red-neck than her normal self, "When they can get 'em." 'I propose a trade", Cindy looked at her group, "The services of your animals in exchange for..." Cindy looked around at her fellow FOD's. They had to have something. 'Free meals... Nah! This is a Cousin not a Ratpacker.' She thought to herself. Then her eyes lit on the wierd object that they had found behind the jukebox. Cindy nodded at Ron who handed her their piece. Tammy barely held back her glee. Another piece of the Cube. Excellent. She hid it behind a mask worthy of the General. "That will do." She bent down and stroked both of her pets. *Momma, needs both of you to clean up all the rats you find around here. For the rest of the war this is home. Be good! Cindy is your temporary momma.* ------- Sydney and LaCroix considered it for a moment turning their backs on the humans. 'To be bartered about so rudely,' LaCroix bore his fangs in annoyance, 'We're familiars, not pets.' 'Precisely, and our witch needs us to do a service for these people in order that she can aquire another of the talismans. We aren't being bartered for, our services are.' Sydney looked around, 'The decor lacks a little, but the food is devine.' He thought of the rat he had just finished consuming who was fat on Souvlaki and Baklava. 'Besides with all that competition at the theatre we wouldn't get a rat in edgewise.' LaCroix continued to be annoyed for a few seconds, then his hunger won out. ------- The two animals rubbed their normal mistress and then wandered over to their new temporary mistress. "I guess that means it's okay by them," Cindy asked. "Precisely," Tammy used her best cousinly coldness and took the object that was now being held out to her. As she and Nir walked out of the Happy Souvlaki she felt a brief pang of missing them already. A tear dripped out of her eye. "Are you crying?" Nir asked concerned, a cousin, not even a rogue one, cryed easily. "Of course not." Tammy straightened her clothing. "Sure", Nir said not buying a word of it. ------- Susan saw the returning pair... sans animals. "Tammy... What happened? Did another Faction? We'll organize an attack immediately... We'll get them back." Other NNPackers, despite what the animals had done before we mumbling in agreement, Tammy was a NNPacker and by extension so were the animals. They were a family and family forgives family. "They can't do that to our animals!!!" Carrie cried in outrage. "Thank you for your support, but unnecessary." Tammy grinned... "They are doing 'community service' for their misdeeds." "Community service??" The NNPack asked in unison. "They will be taking care of what the carouche is not at the Happy Souvlaki..." Tammy replied. Susan breathed a sigh of relief. The animals would be in good hands in the FOD's care. "Besides..." She held up the pendant for all to see. "This makes THREE!" She smiled evilly and she and Nir were carried away in the swarm of NNPackers celebrating. --------- Comments Rogue Cousin Tammy [tabby_katt@technowizards.com] or Cindy Brewer [Cindybre@inwave.com] From - Sat Aug 21 09:31:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I2jq-0001uw-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:26:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5139; Sat, 21 Aug 99 00:24:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6296; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:24:34 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:26:12 EDT Reply-To: EAElias@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tammy Horn Subject: WAR: Vaqs: Jam with the V-Man To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a5ce6901ba95178fea37b2eee3e487fa "Jam With the V-Man" Friday, August 19, 1999 The Pitted Peach Afternoon to Eveningish Vachon and the dog used with permission It was slow at the bar. The lunch crowd had cleared out, and the evening crowd hadn't swelled through the doors and swept into the tables that surrounded the newly redecorated New Vaq Headquarters. The strains of an electric guitar would be heard over the hum of activity as the Vaqs and the restaurant crew prepared for the night shift. Tammy sat on the edge of the small stage, strumming her deep blue electric guitar. On the top was a picture of a golden colored dragon and the regular strings had been replaced with gold plated ones.. Behind her sat a plain brown steel-stringed wooden acoustic guitar, a gift from one of her uncles long ago. Knabe ran around at her feet, trying to jump in her lap. "Come on, you know the rules, Buddy. There's not enough room for you and the guitar on my lap," Tammy said, not looking at the dog, instead concentrating on picking out the chords to the new song she had acquired the sheet music to on her way to Toronto from Dallas. She didn't notice the dog running across the hardwood floor, his nails clicking across the wood planks until suddenly the clicking stopped. She didn't look up from the sheet until she heard the deep voice said "Oof. Down boy." Tammy looked out over the dance floor to see her dog trying to jump up on Vachon. she thought. "Knabe, get off him. Come here." "He's ok," Vachon said as he picked up the squirming canine and walked across the floor to where she was sitting, scratching the dog behind his ears, and dodging his attempts to lick the once vampire on the face. "I've been looking for you." Tammy went white for a moment. "You have? Oh, I guess you mean the icon. I, um, don't know anything yet, except I don't think it's cuneiform. But I haven't worked on it too much," she looked down, slightly embarrassed. "Oh well. If we solve it, we solve it." Vachon shrugged. "It's no big deal. I was beginning to think that you were avoiding me." "Well, no not really. It's just that I still feel a little lost, it being my first war and stuff. I guess I've just been sticking to trying to solve the puzzle." "You seem to have gotten well into the spirit of things." Vachon said, referring to the incident on Monday night. "We were just trying to practice......" Vachon held up a hand to stop one of his Troopers from sounding like a whiner instead of a slacker. "Next subject, "Vachon let his eyes wander to the guitars. "Those yours?" "Um, yeah. It helps me think. I brought some other stuff, but I thought that sitting around cross-stitching during a war would be a little, well, Un-Vaqish." "Well?" Tammy repeated Vachon's question back to him. "Well?" "Are you going to play that, or are you going to sit here?" "Um, yeah, sure." Tammy noticed Vachon eyes lingering on the electric guitar. "I'm just learning this song.... You want to jam or something? I'll let you borrow the electric..." Vachon's eyes lit up. "Sure. What are you trying to learn?" "Um, 'House of the Rising Sun.'" "Why? Kinda before you're time, isn't it?" "Well, there's this guy, that's the high tenor of this band." She pointed at the shirt that she was wearing, a black shirt she had gotten at the Rockapella concert a few weeks ago. "He put out an album with this techno band he got together and he had the song on the album. Anyway, my roommate loves this guy and while I have a big time respect for him, I never was the kind to sit there and play a record over and over and over again. But she is, and when she got the album, that's what she did. I liked most of the songs, but "House of the Rising Sun" really got to me. I absolutely loved it by the end of the week. I guess it was either that or start pulling my hair out. So, I got the sheet music at a local huge discount music shop and now I'm trying to learn it. I guess it's going ok, but it could be better." "Do you always talk like this?" Vachon asked as Tammy stopped to take a breath. "Um, yeah." "Ok. Let's see what you've got so far." He said as he put the dog down and grabbed the electric guitar that she handed over him. Vachon and Tammy sat there for awhile, playing and singing and talking about music. They tweaked the sound system until there wasn't any feed back and checked the acoustics in the area, which seemed to take a lot longer then either of them thought it should. They played and sang as the rest of the Vaqs drifted in and eventually, later that evening, they all decided to get back to other things as the dinner crowd began to trickle in. From - Sat Aug 21 09:31:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I2md-0001Aa-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:29:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5168; Sat, 21 Aug 99 00:27:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6610; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:27:25 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 13:26:08 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: The Job is Done (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a5ede06ae3fe6d2076b18c86abeb533a The Job is Done (01/01) by Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) Clyde, Mike, and Niko are my characters. Yes, mine, it's my fault. Kim, Steve, Enid, Jen Z, Katilina, Maria, Taryn, Amber, and Kadira used with permission. ============================= Clyde watched the happy reunion at the HQ. It was true the shadowman was mortal, but he could still handle the situation here. There was no reason to stay. "Thank you guys for helping me, I owe you one," Shadowman said. Everyone smiled. Raven echoed everyone's thoughts, "It's good to have you back." "Yes, well, not to say it wasn't an interesting experience. We'll get the DPs." the shadowman said. "I bet," Clyde said. In the corner Niko seemed disappointed. "I didn't get to use my body armor, my guns, nothing." Clyde smiled. "There's always the E-war." This appeared to perk Niko up. Mike came in. "Well, boss, it's done. We're all packed up," he said to Clyde. "Good," Clyde said. He looked from each persons face and addressed them all. "Raven, Kim, Steve, Enid, Jen, Kat, Maria, Taryn, Amber, Kadira: You are all good enforcers. We hope to see more of you in the future on better circumstances." Everyone smiled. The three enforcers made their way out of the conference room, past the broken door. "Oh," Clyde said, "I called the repairman for the door. He'll be here in the morning. You might actually be able to save the door." "Thanks," Raven said. The three left then without a further word. Raven hugged the MiB. "So glad you're back," she said. --- On the roof, all was quiet. The night was still, the stars were out. Clyde ushered the two others into the waiting chopper, and sighed. He would miss Toronto. He must remember to come back again soon. ============================ Is this sufficient? ============================ Evil Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Sat Aug 21 09:31:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I2pz-00066m-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:33:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3581; Sat, 21 Aug 99 00:30:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6903; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:30:59 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 13:30:22 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: Re-enforcements (04/04) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7aa3160bcc4a0e3c0366967d041e4882 War: Enforcers: Re-enforcements (04/04) By Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) Clyde, Mike, and Niko are my characters. Kim, Steve, Enid, Jen Z, Katilina, Maria, Taryn, Amber, and Kadira used with permission. ========================== Place: Precinct House, Prisoner cells The precinct house was quiet in these early morning hours. Only the desk sergeant appeared animated, actively turning the pages of his romance novel. All was ready. The human enforcers were stationed at each entrance, trying to blend in. Their raybans(tm) and black clothes made it hard though. They had their whammizers just in case. There were also stationed at various points around the building. Amber and Taryn were taking care of the documents. Inside, Clyde made his way from Kim to Kat, to Maria, to Steve...etc, finally coming to the holding cell. In the cell, 'Shadowman' looked extremely relieved. "I don't know what happened, they just jumped me and..." "Yes, I know," he said and popped the lock. Shadowman stepped out of the cell, almost letting out some other occupants. Clyde passed shadow a pair of raybans (tm) and he put them on. The entire room went bright as the prisoners were whammied. Clyde would have just hypnotized them, but he didn't have time. He told them they had never seen shadowman and to go to sleep. They did. They made their way out slowly, whammying as necessary. Taryn and Amber came out of the records office. "All shredded," they said. Clyde nodded. Everything was set. The human enforcers made their way out slowly behind them. Just as they got to the door, who should pop in but Tracy herself. Clyde smiled a wry smile as he recognized the perpetrator. "Good evening, Miss Vetter," he said. "Who are you?" she asked... (sound of whammizer going off) "It must be your imagination, Miss Vetter, we were never here." ========================== Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Evil and Chaos Incarnate Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Sat Aug 21 09:31:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I323-0002Wu-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:45:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5217; Sat, 21 Aug 99 00:43:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7460; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:43:21 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:43:14 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Harem Holiday 02/03 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: dbb91ba34053bbe6734de64c9cdeebf8 NA: Harem Holiday 02/03 by Patt Elmore When: Evening, Thursday, August 19, 1999 The party at Nick's Harem Concurrent and wedged in between segments of "War: Knighties: A Knight out (1/1)" Where: Harem HQ Addicts all used with permission and input; Harem wives and staff used with permission of the Harem leadership. Nick used with permission of the Knightie leadership ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Monica looked down at Nick, who had moved to the front of the stage for a better view. Positively glowing, the addict began to sway to the music. The other addicts began gyrating also, slowly at first, then speeding up to match the tempo of the music. As if they'd practiced their moves for years, they spread out across the stage, stooping and stretching to the tones of the zither and horn. The audience began paying more attention, shouting words of encouragement, which stimulated the addicts. They began to twirl and spin across the dais, using their arms to beckon unseen princes. Nick smiled and nodded approvingly. The Knighties with him frowned. KC burst back into the ballroom, her arms laden with pamphlets. "Are you people blind? Don't you see that this is all a plot to subvert you? Revolt! Revolt!" She began thrusting flyers at people. "I'll best you're quite a dancer, yourself," a male party goer commented as KC handed him a brochure. He leered at the gigantic ruby KC had stuffed into her bellybutton cavity, his meaning obvious. "You're French, aren't you?" The Kissing Cousin snatched back the paper and thwopped the fellow over the head. He just grinned and stuffed a Canadian bill into the band of her skirt, eyes twinking knowingly. "I like 'em hot." "Well, hot this." KC grabbed the offending chap in a headlock, which exposed her Nunkies hewn thigh. Several non-addicts gasped. KC looked down to see what the un-NA women were panting about. "Oh, yeah. Fine, isn't he? Let me tell you about *all* of his many wonders . . ." She wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis. "Why are we up on this stage, entertaining Nick?" Ivy whispered to Glennis. Glennis shrugged. "Because it's fun?" "I think not," Ivy replied, elbowing the other woman and working a pointing finger into her dance routine. "Look at KC. She's arm wrestling some dude, which looks like a lot more amusing." "KC is prone to mayhem," Glennis explained. "She explodes if she doesn't engage her anarchy apparatus every once and awhile. We're here to help Patt, remember. Our dancing is giving her a perfect diversion to hunt that truck stealing Harem Wife without fear of discovery." "There are enough dancers on this stage that they don't need us," Ivy complained. Then she grinned slyly at Glennis. "See those cushions?" Glen looked at the black pillows stacked in a sitting alcove. "Yeah. What about them?" "Didn't Patt say that part of the truck theft involved pillows?" "Yeah. What about it?" "Nick has a thing about cactus, right?" "Yeah . . ." Ivy's grin broadened sneakily. "I have three boxes of mini cacti tucked away in the van. Come on . . . I have an idea for some fun." Stepping back slightly from the other dancers, Ivy caught Glen's hand and pulled her through one of the stage doors to the back of the platform. They ran out the back exit, grabbed the boxes of cacti and quickly returned to the ballroom, but not to the stage. "We'll be too conspicuous carrying these boxes back into the ballroom," Glennis noted. "What are we going to do?" "Stuff them," Ivy said. She began hiding cacti among the veils of her outfit. >From her vantage place near the back of the dancers, Christy watched as Glen and Ivy came and went. When she saw the two women, carrying boxes, trying to ease back into the ballroom, she decided a more obvious divergence was called for so that her addict sisters would not be intercepted. Christy ran to the edge of the stage, stopping just short of falling into Nick's arms. "Hello again, Minnie," Nick called up cheerfully, toasting the woman with his punch glass. "Nice move." "Thanks." Christy offered the detective her best Marilyn Monroe come-on look. "Care to join me?" The Knighties twittered disapprovingly, but Patt had permission from their leader for Nick to dance with the addicts. Christy plucked one of the scarves from her skirt and looped it over the blonde ex-vampire's head. She pulled. "Come to me, my Shiek." His boyish grin dominating his face, Nick complied. He climbed up on the stage and was soon flanked on both sides by a row of belly-bumping women. Hip to hip, Nick and the addicts whirled. With *everyones'* eyes on stage, Ivy and Glennis made their moved. Their outfits brimming with baby cacti, they quickly ran over to the alcove and began distributing the tiny plants. Ivy set her violet veil in place, concealing her mischievous smirk. She moved among the pillows, the tiny cacti secretly stashed in her baggy genie pants. Those cacti were tiny, but prickly. She had found that out as she carefully organized them in her costume. The little devils nipped at her hips and thighs as she ran. she kept reminding herself. As she was planting her share of cacti under the cushions she wondered how Glennis was doing with her share. >From across the room, Erik paused and looked at the dancers. "They're pretty good!" he noted approvingly. "That's nothing," Patt replied, her eyes scanning the room for Amethyst. "This is merely a warm-up act. Wait until you see them dance at Conversion Day ceremonies." "Can't wait," Erik smiled. Patt paused her searching and grinned at the NunkaMale. "Especially, if it means that Ary will be up on stage, right?" Erik's expression turned to a frown of bewilderment. "What gives?" Patt asked. "I thought you two were becoming an item?" "I thought there was potential there, too," Erik shrugged. "But, this morning, she told me she didn't think we'd work out and gave me this." He pulled the element necklace from his pocket and handed it to Patt. "I'm not sure what she meant by the gesture, but . . ." His voice trailed off. "I can see that this little token of love gone wrong is causing you anguish," Patt said, closing her fist around the pendent. "I'll just hold onto it for you." The mature addict quickly tucked the gem into her bossum. At that moment, a red-haired woman swept into the room, looking around anxiously. "Amethyst," Patt muttered, heading toward the woman. And, at the same moment, a bit of confusion near the front of the ballroom caused all heads to turn. There, being escorted off the premises by Harem Deskman Rick Gold (hunk) and Handyman Angus MacCaffrey (hunk and a half in Patt's humble opinion. She loves Stargate SG-1. ) was a struggling package of activity which closely resembled a ticked off Tasmanian Devil. "THE REVOLUTION WILL HAPPEN!" KC shouted from her captivity. "ONLY I CAN LEAD YOU AWAY FROM THE DARKNESS, INTO MY OWN. I AM THE GODDESS AND I RULE THE WORLD!!" Rick and Angus carried the addict into the kitchen and dumped her outside, using the service entrance. Then, the Harem men headed back toward the ballroom. As they arrived in the reception area, several women entered through the front door. "We were invited," Felicia said, handing Rick the Vaquera invitation. "How's the party going?" Felicia and the troublesome T's (Tammy, Tabitha and Teresita) sauntered into the room. "He's got how many wives?" Tammy asked, eyes wide. "No one knows, they all have numbers though." "He's worse than Me--" Tabs clapped her hand over Tammy's mouth. "You know the rules," she said as Tammy nodded. "Ok, then the World's Oldest Living Im--" Tabs did it again. "Copyrights, remember?" Tammy nodded her head again. "Ok, the World's Oldest Living 'guy that can't die unless you chop off his head.' You know, he even looks like one of them from one of those episodes." Tammy squinted at Nick. "Nah, the other guy was better looking." She walked back over to the bar, hoping that the T-shirt that she was wearing, the one with the Dragon, surrounded with armor, while picking his teeth with a lance, that proudly proclaimed "Sometimes the Dragon Wins," wasn't causing too much discomfort to the hostesses. Of course, when the leather-clad females made their entrance, Patt observed them. "Vaqs!" Patt muttered. "Darn Shrine bashers." "Down girl," Erik touched the mature addict's arm. "Remember the mission. Plenty of time for revenge once the truck is recovered." He took a deep sigh, settling himself. He had his own grievances with the Vaqueras and was biding his time to seek retribution. "You're right," Patt nodded. "But, for just once, I wish I had KC's hot temper and *do and be damned* attitude. I sure wouldn't mind punching a nose or two." "Thursday, August 26th," Eric promised. "It *will* happen." Patt grinned, then caught her breath. Watching her from across the room, his dark brown eyes glinting with amusement, was Vachon. "Damn, they've got the Spaniard with them," Patt whispered, ducking behind some nameless, faceless people in the crowded room. "We'd better hurry up and get out of here before I lose story control." Erik looked at her, amused. "You mean you still have it? This arc is pretty darn long, you know." "And it keeps growing and growing," Patt growled. "I just spotted the DP leadership. I have to get Tiff out of here before she sees them, too." "I'm on that," Erik said, already springing into action. "You catch up with your Wifey friend and find out about your truck." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 02/03 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 21 09:31:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I35f-0001kM-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:49:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5226; Sat, 21 Aug 99 00:47:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7615; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:47:11 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:49:02 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: War: Enforcers: Into the Night (a.k.a lack of chocolate) 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e22859078500cf8a3ad4f46bf17e9dd8 Title: Into the Night (1/1) Written By: Enid Rodriguez ( Supply Lieutenant of The Enforcers) Time: 11:00pm, Friday, August 20, 1999. Place: Enid's hotel suite at the Blackwood Arms Hotel All Enforcers involved used with permission. Enforcers Clyde, Mike, and Niko were created by Captain Raven. I am just borrowing them. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ All the Enforcers were camping out at the Blackwood Arms, they figured the HQ might be prone to attacks in the next few days. Shadowman was in the shower, removing any "filth" that could have invaded his new mortal body while in the holding cell. Kat and Maria were busy at their laptops, collecting data and checking the official "e" mail. Kim, Jen, and Kadira were all fighting over the phone, debating which one of them would get to order room service. Raven was at the Blackwood Boutique, located in the lobby . Picking up a new suit for their leader, who was slowly plumping up due to too many apple pies. Steve and the Niko were discussing various ways to kill a man with the head of a barbie doll. Mike and Clyde were...well..being creepy. They were silent, both standing by the door with their arms folded. Kat glanced up at them from her laptop, "Secret Service men from hell, huh?" Maria looked up at them and tried to stifle a giggle. Clyde cocked an eyebrow, "I heard that." Both enforcers went back to their laptops. Enid, had her head buried in the mini-bar, "A Snickers, a Snickers, my kingdom for a Snickers!" she cried, tossing out bag after endless bag of roasted peanuts. Enid growled with a fury that only a lack of chocolate could produce. "I'm going out." Enid announced. Clyde placed a cold, undead hand on Enid's arm. "Is that wise?" Enid glared at Clyde's hand, he quickly removed it. Immortal or not, no one put their hands on Enid, no one. Enid then wrapped her black, leather trenchcoat around herself, and set out into the night in search of decent junk food. While searching the racks for the perfect black silk shirt, Raven noticed Enid charging through the lobby and out the door. "Where is she going?" Raven mumbled under her breath. Enid took a deep breath of the evening air, she could smell that it had rained a little. She scanned the streets for a deli or a bakery. Nothing, everything was closed. "Damn" she swore, digging her hands into her pockets. "There must be someplace I can go to satisfy my sweet tooth." She grumbled. "There has to be......" ---------------------------------------------- Some time later..... Enid turned the knob slowly and quietly and tip toed into her hotel room. Random enforcers were scattered all over the floor, fast asleep. The visiting enforcers were no where in sight. Good, Enid thought. No one to answer to. Suddenly, Raven's voice cut through the darkness, making Enid jump. " Welcome back." Enid gave Raven a coy smile, "All I wanted was a candy bar." From - Sat Aug 21 09:31:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I6Go-0006lT-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 04:12:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5591; Sat, 21 Aug 99 04:10:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4131; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 04:10:47 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 04:12:38 EDT Reply-To: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Subject: WAR: FoD: From Chaos to Calm - A Scuba Adventure Part 1 of 3 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: add5d01e99cc8818be0d6f1e1429db28 >From Chaos to Calm - A Scuba Adventure Part 1 of 3 Written by FoDs Kathy and Bev Date: 8/11/99 Time: noonish Place: Toronto pier/Lake Ontario All Natpackers, NAs and FoDs used by permission It was a lovely sunny Friday afternoon as the diving group assembled at the pier. Dive gear was being piled near the boat that was hired to take them on this grand adventure and excitement could be felt for miles away. Schanke and Myra had been some of the first to arrive along with the first carload of FoDs and 4 NA's driven by Judy, a Natpacker with the good sense to not dive in the cold but not enough sense not to volunteer to drive. The second car arrived piloted by the NA Patt, who had volunteered only yesterday to help out. This was before realizing that a bunch of crazed FoDs would surround her with a few Natpackers on top of that. Still, she honored her promise and watched as three FoDs, and two Natpackers piled from the car complete with dive gear. Off in the distance, Myra was in some deep discussion with FoD Cindy while Schanke was dragging first Myra's gear and than Cindy's gear (out of courtesy to Cindy and because he thought it was the manly thing to do) towards the boat. Near exhaustion. Schanke went to finally retrieve his gear when he spotted Kathy emerging from behind the second car. "Kathy, so where are we divin'?" Schanke hollered out, knowing full well that Kathy probably had been planning this trip from the moment "Toronto" was mentioned. "The 'George A. Marsh,'" Kathy replied and added, "put that back," directed over her shoulder in the direction of Rav. Rav stopped bouncing in the oversized yellow fins long enough to determine Kathy wasn't heading in her direction. "You might want to get your fins back from Rav," Kathy muttered to Schanke as she settled her dive gear down in front of her. "RAV!!," Schanke yelled, which brought a now humbled Rav running towards him with the fins held out in front of her. Last thing Rav wanted to do was make their Schanke unhappy. "So tell us about the dive," Myra said as both her and Cindy and her joined the group now assembling around Kathy and Schanke. "We are going to dive the George A Marsh. It is a Schooner, which sank in 1917. The story around this sinking is quite a tragedy, or so I read. Twelve of the 14 people at board died in the early morning hours when the vessel founder during a summer storm. It was detected fairly early that the ship was taking on water and all hands were on deck to abandon ship as Captain Smith steered it towards the nearest land but it sank at 5am in 85 feet of water just two miles from land. To make this all the more tragic, the Captain's wife and five of their children all died. A friend survived but he lost his wife and 7-month old son. Five of the 12 bodies were recovered and buried but the fate of the others was unknown." The group was quiet now, waiting for Kathy to continue. "In the time since the sinking, some interesting facts have come to light. Captain Smith, who was mourned as lost, actually was discovered to have survived the sinking. Perhaps overwhelmed by grief over the loss of his family, he went into hiding. He died ten years later in Oklahoma where he had a started a successful flour and feed business. He left his estate to a surviving teenage daughter who had ironically married the friend who had survived the George A. Marsh sinking but had lost his wife and son." "There are a few things I think should be said about this dive before we leave dock. For those who dive a bit away from the wreck, recently with better visibility, a mound of human bones has been discovered. There is not doubt soon they will be properly removed and cared for but until then these are believed to be the bones of the seven unrecovered bodies from the sinking. No doubt you will view this with proper respect. On the move enjoyable side, the wreck itself has been kept pretty much intact since its sinking and you will discover lots of exciting thing on this dive. Please look, touch gently if you like but don't remove" Kathy said staring at the group. "This is guaranteed to be a dive you won't soon forget! " End Part 1 From - Sat Aug 21 09:31:42 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I6HJ-0000Vz-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 04:13:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2021; Sat, 21 Aug 99 04:11:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4147; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 04:11:18 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 04:13:09 EDT Reply-To: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Subject: WAR: FoD: From Chaos to Calm - A Scuba Adventure Part 2 of 3 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bf3b98d7b0da38060d98e1f8143ef6f3 >From Chaos to Calm - A Scuba Adventure Part 2 of 3 Written by FoDs Kathy and Bev Date: 8/11/99 Time: noonish Place: Toronto pier/Lake Ontario All Natpackers, NAs and FoDs used by permission The group was a bit overwhelmed but it was Schanke that broke the silence an= d=20 the somber mood. "So who's joinin' me divin??!!!", Schanke's voice bellow=20 out, "Souvlaki for anyone who will be my dive buddy!" Myra laughed at the sudden show of hands and Schanke surveying the women=20 with a look of pure happiness and joy on his face. "Mind if I join you?" Myr= a=20 whispered to the woman standing next to her carrying a bright yellow tank an= d=20 blue weight belt.=20 "Sure! My name is Janet, a Natpacker=85"=20 Myra's face took on a look of confusion that stopped Janet dead in=20 mid-sentence.=20 "I'm a friend of Nat Lambert," she finally finished with a smile and Myra an= d=20 her took off together discussing "dear Nat" and "How is she doing these days= ?=20 I really should call her." Bev sidled up in her black wet suit towards Kathy and Lori. Shuffling from=20 one foot to another, she looked nervously around, while holding something=20 behind her back. " Where's your new mask and fins, Bev?" Kathy asked. "I um..I'll wait until we're ready to get in the water to put them on, "Bev=20 replied. "How bad can it be?" Lori asked. She knew Bev had been suffering over the=20 loss of the blue fins and cracked mask she had last war. Bev closed her eye= s=20 tight, then held out the mask and fins for Lori to inspect. "Orange? You'll look like a duck! More Daffy than Donald, though," Lori=20 said, then laughed. "Yo!" Schanke said when he heard his name. =20 Bev ignored him and went on, "It's Kathy's fault! I wanted to go for pink=20 but she said I'd clash with . . . someone. This was the only color they had=20 left." NAs Caren, Jesse, Allie and Shele stepped up a few minutes later, although a=20 buff slave boy, in tight swim trunks, was carrying Shele as she seemed to be=20 encased in plaster. "Mfffttttfff," the cemented Shele said. =20 "Errr, what did she say?" Cindy looked at the other addicts and frowned. =20 "She said, 'Mfffttttfff," Jesse explained. "That means, 'This is Ted.'" "Oh." Cindy turned back to the encased addict. "Shele? How are you going to dive=20 like that? I don't think we can find a suit to fit over your - um --=20 plaster." We'll need a body bag," Jesse suggested. "I'm sure Nat has one around," Maureen said helpfully. "MFFTTTFFFFFMMMMM!" Shele mffttffmmmed loudly. Cindy looked at Jesse, who supplied the translation. "She said, 'Thanks, bu= t=20 no thanks. It's waterproof, but not sink proof. I'll just stay in the boat= .=20 I'll be fine, really! "Man-oh-man! What happened to you?" Schanke asked when he turned around and=20 saw Shele looking like a plaster cast of the Mummy. "Plaster," Shele's friends explained. No one could bear telling the whole=20 story again. "I can see that. You know Myra has this cousin in London who is an expert a= t=20 . . ." "Donny," Myra said while gently prodding her husband in the ribs. "Leave th= e=20 girl alone. This is war, remember? She has to suffer for her. . .What do=20 you call them, girls?" =20 "Factions," Caren, Jesse, Cindy and Maureen sand in unison. "I think she has suffered enough. Schanke, when this is over you can give u= s=20 that cousin's number, okay?" Jesse whispered. "Sure," Schanke replied as Myra pulled him away. Everyone formed a bucket-brigade line running from the piles of equipment to=20 the boat. Kathy took charge inside so that she could cram everything in its=20 proper place. A dive boat might seat twelve, but they never counted on=20 fifteen, and especially not one in plaster. "Okay, what happened to Patt? Allie asked. The NA who'd driven the=20 Natpackers was no where to be seen. "I think she said something about getting into her suit," Judy said. "Oh well, that shouldn't take too long, it's getting out of them that takes=20 forever,: Lori replied. "Okay, everyone in the boat and remember we're overloading the boat, so no=20 bouncing. . .Rav!" Kathy warned. "Who me?" Rav said, then proceeded to bounce. Ted loaded Shele inside, then everyone else followed one by one. Patt was=20 last and still panting from her struggle with the suit. She paused for a=20 moment to catch her breathe. She looked up at the back of the boat, then=20 gasped. "Okay, who did that?" she asked as she pointed to the stern of the boat. Kathy stepped onto the pier and walked around so she could see. She almost=20 laughed when she saw the sheet hanging over the back of the boat with S.S.=20 Titanic written across in bold red lettering. She didn't laugh, though,=20 because she knew that was the idea. Best not give Bev any perverse pleasure= .=20 She knew it was Bev's doing because she'd seen her fellow FoD sneaking=20 around with a sheet. When she asked about it, Bev had mumbled something=20 about making a toga. But why the red permanent marker then? Judy shook her head at the sign and smiled. "I'm glad I'm not going with=20 you. You're all doomed." "What is it, Kathy?" Lori asked. "It's nothing, Lori. Stay in the boat. Just another one of Bev's little=20 jokes." "Oh," everyone mumbled in chorus. "I though it was funny," Bev said with a shrug. Kathy tried to pull the sign down, but it seemed to be stuck. Patt did her=20 best to help but in the end, they had to give up. Everyone was restless and=20 wanted to get out in the water. "Will you be all right here?" Patt asked Judy. "Sure, I'll catch some rays, listen to some tunes. . .stay completely warm=20 and dry." "Don't forget your sunscreen," Janet mentioned as she braided her long hair=20 and secured it with a scrunchie. "Yeah, sure," Judy said as she helped loosen the ropes. Schanke helped Ted push the boat off, while desperately trying to avoid=20 stepping on anyone. "Doesn't this remind you a little of the Titanic? Too many people crammed=20 into one tiny boat?" Bev said as they puttered out into the lake. "Shhh!" Myra said. "Speaking of going down, what do we do with Shele if something happens? I=20 mean we could tie all of the life vests around her, but she'll still probabl= y=20 go down," Jesse said. "We have some bungie cords," Kathy suggested. "We'll tie her to the side=20 like we do the tanks." "MMMMMFFFFMMMM!!!" Shele said. "It's for your own good, Shele," Janet put in. "It's not like the boat is=20 going to go down." Kathy and Patt glared at Bev who was trying to slink down onto the crowded=20 bottom of the boat. End of Part 2 From - Sat Aug 21 09:31:42 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I6We-0003hf-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 04:29:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5613; Sat, 21 Aug 99 04:27:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4515; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 04:27:13 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 04:28:56 EDT Reply-To: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Subject: WAR: FoD: From Chaos to Calm - A Scuba Adventure Part 3 of 3 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5d0fea6162c85273e8fb11c3f34fac12 >From Chaos to Calm A Scuba Adventure Part 3 of 3 Written by FoDs Kathy and Bev Date: 8/11/99 Time: noonish Place: Toronto pier/Lake Ontario All Natpackers, NAs and FoDs used by permission "We need to pair up into two person teams, everyone. I know Janet and Myra have already chosen, but the rest of you haven't, have you? Oh, and one more thing, no grouping into factions, girls. This is Switzerland here," Kathy said. Each person looked at the other, but no one spoke. "Well?" "I think Maureen should go with you, Kathy, I mean she is a newbie when it comes to diving. The two of you should get along well when she gets the hang of it," Myra (our voice of reason) said. "Looks to me like everyone is sitting across from their dive buddies," Schanke said. "You like souvlaki, Jesse?" he added. Kathy looked down the line Maureen and Cindy were in front with Ted, and the Shele bundle on the other side. Lori was sitting across from Carne, Allie was across from Rav, Bev was sitting across from a worried looking Patt, and Myra, Janet, Schanke and Jessie were all smooshed into the stern. "Looks good to me," Cindy said, and Rav handed some bungies to Ted and showed him how to fasten them to the side of the boat. He did as they said despite the grumbles from Shele. "Now, Shele, until we can figure out how to get you out of that plaster we'd better take all the precautions we can. We almost lost you once already," Patt put in. Shele acquiesced and things quieted down for a while. Kathy drove the boat to the spot and turned off the engine. "We're here!" she announced. At that several eager divers . . .(Bev, Rav, Jesse and Caren) jumped up and rushed to the opposite side of the boat to grab their gear. "No don't!" Kathy, Myra and Janet screamed in unison. It was too-little-too-late. The boat had already begun to list. The remaining divers tried desperately to shift their weight, but the only one's still weighing down the starboard side were Ted and Shele. Even Shele's plaster wasn't enough to balance the boat. "Nobody move," Schanke hissed. Myra and Jessie had ended up on top of him when the boat tipped. A few brave souls started to crawl to the other side of the boat, only boats are not always cooperative. It fell back into the water with a splash sending Bev, Jesse, Cindy and Allie into the water. The others were clutching the sides of the boat with white knuckles until they saw their fellow divers sputtering in the water. Kathy started the chortling, even tough she was desperately trying to keep a straight face. The others in the boat joined in until Bev had to cover her ears from the noise (not an easy thing to do when you are trying to tread water). "Great, how am I supposed to get tanked?" Bev cried. "We'll take you to the Raven after the dive, Bev," Maureen said with a wicked smile. Bev stuck her tongue out at Maureen in response to the joke, though secretly she thought getting tanked in the Raven was a good idea. After all, there was no danger of getting a nasty hickey from the vampires that hung out there. "You going to be alright here, Shele?" Ted asked. "Mmmmmfffff" Shele sighed, batting her eyes. While Kathy secured the dive line, Janet, Myra, Cindy and Ted did everything they could to make sure Shele was comfortable. Myra lent her a straw hat so that her face wouldn't get too burnt. Cindy turned on the radio and slipped on the "Best of the Nightcrawler" tape that Bev duped for Kathy. Everyone knew that the most soothing sounds for an NA were the silken tones of LaCroix's voice. As the last non-dunked diver stepped off the dive platform and broke the surface of the water, fun, fear and excitement became one. The buddy groups gathered together, nodded excitedly to each other and two by two descended down the dive line. While visibility had improved somewhat with the arrival of the zebra mussel invasion, the diminished light on the schooner still created a ghostly image. Rows of deadeyes hung limply along both the starboard and port sides, like skulls watching the group arrive, adding meaning to why they were called what they were. Schanke and Jesse headed towards the stern like bullets, OK bobbing, happy bullets but you could tell they were motivated. Swinging low in the water, they made a beautiful approach on the ship by coming up over the rear. Rav and Allie headed toward to ship's wheel and settled in quickly, guiding the sunken ship on one last voyage. One thing Bev was sure of was that she wasn't going to let them steer the dive boat home from the way they were fighting over the wheel. She did her best to convey that message to Patt, her dive-buddy, using sign language, and Patt agreed, or at least she nodded her head. There was so much to see, to do on this schooner. It was simply amazing. The ship was preserved perfectly with a fine attention to details and must have been respected by divers for quite some time. Myra and Janet ended up near the ship's iron stove where a teapot and kettle seemed to be waiting for them. "Sure, here I am diving in Lake Ontario and still have to look at pots and pans" Myra thought to herself and stifled an underwater giggle. "Good thing Schanke is elsewhere or he would want dinner made too" Tools were lying on the deck, waiting for phantom hands to begin repairs. Ted posed near a shovel, looking quite the macho figure. Lori and Karen spent a number of minutes admiring the lifeboat waiting for eternity to be used. The rigging still was in place in many spots and Kathy and Maureen were in awe of the shear majesty of this dive, perhaps too much so because the sudden appearance of Cindy over the side rail caused both to backpedal like a shark had trapped them. Kathy clutched at her chest in mock "heart attack" fashion and waved a finger at her. Funny how not a word was spoken but Cindy knew she was in for a talking to on the boat later. Ted actually laughed underwater! The dive was only 30 minutes long but it was a lifetime experience. Once back on board the boat it was amazing anyone could understand anything that was said. "Did you see the cooking utensils?" "Man oh man, was I really enjoying touching that wheel. Wonder what stories it would tell?" "Did you see me in the lifeboat?" "Where were the fish?" On and on, conversations turned from topic to topic, interchanging listener and talker at the drop of a hat. Kathy plumb forgot to yell at Cindy, until at least a full fifteen minutes had past. Factions were too excited to care who or what was going on, too busy just tugging wet gear from tired bodies and spinning more and more stories as the return ride zipped by. A loose fin of Schanke's was returned politely by an exhausted Rav. Ted rested against his plastered love one, leaving a damp spot on the plaster where his head had come to rest. Just as all seemed right in the world, the waving figure of Judy could be seen from the boat. Tired and talked out, a silent line of wet-gear carrying bodies trudged off the boat. Cars were loaded and hugs were exchanged. The dive had ended but the adventure was still young. >From chaos, finally came calm. From - Sat Aug 21 09:31:39 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11I5dj-0005pm-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 03:32:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5554; Sat, 21 Aug 99 03:30:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3081; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 03:30:29 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 00:37:22 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "A. McMullen" Organization: @Home Network Member Subject: WAR: N&Npack contact me please! To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bec40389852fedba07a72b1e7234759b N&Npack, anyone, contact me please. Adriana adrimcm@home.com (knightie) From - Sat Aug 21 10:54:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11ICUY-0003wE-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 10:51:34 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6649; Sat, 21 Aug 99 10:49:25 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7974; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 10:49:25 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 10:50:52 EDT Reply-To: Ipecac69@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stan Williams Subject: WAR: GSS - One of these Knighties To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b5d0c10b3283b83e990753b2e2026518 Day: August 19, 1999, at the Harem Party Time: As the party wanes Place: Harem HQ/Party Area(s) of course. By: Stan Williams, Talon The Ford Crown Victoria was roomy, but it was nice to get out of there. The Harem party provided a setting for surveillance which would enable not only free range of motion, but also a chance to get . . . up close. Clad in a shiny black Armani over a collarless silk shirt of deepest burgundy, Agent Talon entered the Harem HQ and took stock of his surroundings. "Hmmm, late but fashionable" he thought of himself as he noticed the target of his. . .observation: Knighties. In particular, a certain Knightie in a blue strapless number. (Get a hold of yourself, Talon.) Mmmm, slightly red hair, fair complexion, blue dress -- red white and blue! Talon, distracted himself by going about normal party business. He committed several acts of small talk with perfect strangers of various factions. He gazed in wonder at the wide selection of chocolates. (Better snatch up a few before the mercs arrive en masse.) Finally making his way to the punch bowls, Talon was at a quandary. His fingers tapped on the bottles hidden under his suit. On the left a bottle of sodium pentathol, on his right a bottle of, what they call up in the hills of northwest Georgia, hooch, i.e., white lightning, homemade squeezins, etc. Well, right won out. After all, having these partygoers walking around telling the truth wouldn't be as much fun as seeing them inebriated. Taking a page from Coolness: a James Bond How-To Book, Talon slipped the potent hooch into the unsuspecting punch. (Would that make it "pooch"? Just a thought.) Talon poured himself a glass to ease suspicion (War Paranoia makes being sneaky very difficult indeed). He walked to a table in a dark corner, to observe the fruit of his labor. What fun! The young pups in particular! They couldn't hold their liquor well at all. The Knighties, three of them, flanked Nick possessively. I couldn't tell how much they had to drink, but Nick was exploring his mortality with thirsty fervor. "We will see how the Frenchman handles some Southern cookin'", thought the agent. "I wonder", Talon wondered (:D) , "if Knighties bounce more when they get liquored up." After all, she was in a strapless dress. . . (Shame on you Talon. This is a PG war.) Through the night, Nick danced and danced and drank and danced some more. It seems like he was out to dance with every female there. The Knighties did not seem to mind, happy to be proud of Nick's popularity. He danced with the hostesses (harem members? wives?). And the women in veils, now that was interesting. Nick's dancing got wilder as the night wore on. But the Knighties. . . that Knightie . . .kept collected and quietly observed. Drat. Nevertheless, Talon gained tidbits of info here and there. One dancing partner was extremely eager to talk. So much so that Talon decided to activate his recording device. The voice activation was not functioning properly, so Talon reached around his partner to press the button. Apparently he pressed a few "other" buttons as well, sending a signal to the inebriated female he so suddenly was holding tightly. She responded in kind (completely muffling the microphone of the recorder, drat!). With surprising strength, she forced the agent towards a hallway. Not wishing to cause a scene (low-profile is his M.O.) Talon went along until they were well out of sight of the crowd -- drunk or otherwise. Talon placed his hands strategically at places about her neck. She seemed to be game for this sort of behavior. That is, until unconsciousness washed over her. The agent carefully lay her down upon a couch. "My but that couch looks familiar", he thought. Returning to the party, the first thing that struck him was the diminished crowd. Like Harrison Ford, Talon was getting frantic. Where was she? An all to brief scan revealed: she was gone. (James Bond says, subtract 20 coolness points for letting your prey evade you.) Once more into the Crown Vic. From - Sat Aug 21 11:34:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11ID5F-0005Dz-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 11:29:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3233; Sat, 21 Aug 99 11:27:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9929; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 11:27:19 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 10:10:58 -0500 Reply-To: Lisa Luksus Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: CUZ: In the Dungeon To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e7b87e5f146c653d561fe0816132184f In the Dungeon by Cousin Tok Time: Wednesday, the 18th, mid-morning not long after "Storming the Castle" The soggy Vetterburgians sulked as they were loaded into the paddy wagon. "Vhere do you think zey're taking us?" moaned Becky. "Dr. Natenstein's throwing us into her dungeon!" Tok exclaimed. "Will you people shut up and *move*?" The cop was in a fould mood. Now normally, a bunch of women in wet lederhosen would not be a *bad* thing, but he had to figure out how to write all this up for his report. (And this is still a PG-13 list.) The pitchforks and torches would be hard to explain. And did they *have* to talk in those B-movie German accents? The desk sargeant at the precinct just shook his head at the sight. He ordered some towels brought up so these soggy lunatics would stop dripping. The pink dye was running, so there were little pink puddles following them. Trying to get anything out of these people was pointless. Conversations tended to go like this: "Name?" "Vhy do you vant zat? Vhy don't you just throw us in the dungeon?" "Dungeon?" "Zis is Dr. Natentstein's dungeon. Vhere is the monster?" "A monster??" "Our mayor, Der Croit, ordered the Vetterburgians to stop it." None of them had any identification, either. Shelley caught sight of a certain blond head across the room. She grabbed Tok's arm and pointed. "Look! Is zat--" "The monster!" chorused the group, and they tried to rush over there to fulfill their mission. Fortunately for all concerned, they were restrained, although pink smudges became uniform of the day for the officers doing so. "Throw them in the drunk tank," ordered the desk sargeant. "Let 'em sleep it off." Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Sat Aug 21 11:54:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IDPb-0002ri-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 11:50:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5344; Sat, 21 Aug 99 11:48:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1413; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 11:48:21 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 10:50:05 CDT Reply-To: Cousin Erik Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Erik Subject: WAR: NA: Someday, My Prince Will Come... But Not Today (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7dbd1b3d12575167e48975372c8a6d07 NA: Someday, My Prince Will Come... But Not Today (1/2) by Cousin Erik & Arymede Time: Tuesday evening, August 17, 1999 immediately following "The 1003rd Use for Marmite" Place: The NA Cathedral (formerly Vaq-Church) There were days when it just didn't pay to get out of bed. Like when you wake up from a nightmare and sit bolt upright in bed, forgetting that you're on the bottom of a set of bunk beds. Or when you wake up from a very pleasant dream to find your partner staring at you and asking, "Who's Jesse?" (Or Chris or Pat or some other suitably androgynous name.) Erik had decided, just before losing consciousness, that today was one of those days. He didn't regain consciousness immediately because he didn't drop straight to the ground as would have been typical for moments like these, but instead was caught and held by a very surprised-looking Evil Freshman. Arymede stared down at the armload of Nunkamale that she was now hefting and sighed heavily. Why couldn't men fall into her arms on days when she could take the time to enjoy it? Ary and Sallie carted the prone Addict back inside. They decided to plop him in Ary's room since it was the closest. They tossed him onto the bed, and then Sallie left to play with the Evil Pink Enamel some more, leaving Ary to keep a silent vigil by the bedside. Okay, so vigil might not have been the best word, considering Erik fluttered back to consciousness about a minute or so later. Screaming. The afterimage of the Evil Pink church was still burned into his retina, and he desperately sought an escape. He threw himself two feet to the right, which, unfortunately for him, meant that he was now a foot past the edge of the bed. The fanfic fairies suspended the force of gravity just long enough for him to say "Eep" before he slammed to the ground. Ary was about to get up and see if he was still alive when a hand appeared on the edge of the bed, followed by another, and finally a head. "Where, exactly," the head began, "am I?" "Well, I can't give you the exact latitude and longitude, but -- " "Just the present surroundings will be sufficient," Erik cut her off as he began to ease himself up. "My room." "Ah. Why?" "Because you're heavy and my room was the closest." "I see. Am I correct in assuming, then, that the vision of the church as a 100-foot tall wad of Evil Pink chewing gum was *not*, in fact, a hallucination brought on by breathing too much asbestos and hair grease?" "Umm... no. I mean, yes." Ary hastily corrected herself after reviewing the original question in her mind. "You are correct." That still didn't sound right. "In your assumption." Oh, hell. "Yes, Sallie shellaced the church with Evil Pink Enamel." There, that was it. "Oh, dear." Clearly the full impact had not registered on Erik, or his response would probably have been more... colorful. Instead, he merely continued in a dazed monotone, "Well, thank you for the courtesy. I think I'll retire to my room and hide under my bed now." As Erik moved to walk past her, Ary touched his arm lightly with one hand. Her other hand had been in her pocket, nervously fingering the necklace she'd found on her pillow the night before. "Erik... I've been thinking about you a lot today." Erik turned, confused. "And I think I've finally decided what I want to say." He waited. "How *dare* you!" And with that, the famed Sherwood Nunksister hauled off and slapped Erik across the face. Still a little woozy from earlier, the blow caused him to stagger backwards, falling awkwardly into a chair. Yep. Definitely one of those days. --- End 1/2 --- _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 21 12:29:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IDnF-0006lh-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 12:14:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3455; Sat, 21 Aug 99 12:12:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2859; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 12:12:42 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 01:12:10 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: A Gift From Friends (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 75ca217dbc0db144950e9e95ae49c609 ====================== A Gift From Friends (1/1) By Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) Time: Sunday Morning After "Re-enforcements" and "The Job is Done" Place: Enforcer HQ, Conference Room Clyde, Mike, and Niko are my characters. Kim, Steve, Enid, Jen Z, Katilina, Maria, Taryn, Amber, and Kadira used with permission. --------------- "Whew, that was a wild night." Raven sighed."I'll make the coffee." "The hell you will," Enid said, "I'm the one working in the coffee shop, I'll make the coffee. You always make it too weak." "That's why the DPs threw me out..." Raven said. Enid scolded, "They didn't throw you out." Raven sighed again. "I know. After this mess, they just might." Enid smiled, "Oh, you mean last night?" Steve smelled the coffee and came into the room. He giggled, "I almost died when Clyde zapped Tracy." Kim, who had appeared at the mere mention of the word coffee, shushed him. "Can't you tell the difference between Tracy and the desk clerk? It's a good thing he did whammy her, otherwise, she would've asked him, 'Who the heck is Miss Vetter?'" The gaggle of enforcers giggled. Steve's face blanked. "You mean, that wasn't Tracy?" Everyone but Steve giggled harder. "Nope," Kat said, "Tracy's much prettier, much taller, and much younger. Other than that, it kinda looked like her." "Great. We whammy the wrong person." Steve said, "Now what do we do?" "Termites! Termites in the Mansion, wouldn't that be a hoot?" Kim said. "Oh, that would be cruel," Raven said. "I like it, but that might cause permanent damage. We don't want to do that." "How about, " Steve said, "We get the helicopters..." "Oh, no," Maria said, "Not the helicopter plan again..." There was a knock on the newly finished door. (The doorbell was still broken.) Raven sighed and left the conference room. "Pizza's here," Kat said. "No, silly," Jen said, "It's 9 am. They don't deliver pizza in the morning." Amber giggled, "Maybe it's those crossbows I ordered." "You ordered crossbows?" Taryn said, "I think it might be the new gunbelts with the spaces for razors." Enid grabbed a cup of coffee and said, "Maybe it's my new throwing knives, I had some specially made." "You would," Steve said. Raven came back in the room carrying a small box about the size of a small microwave. Steve whistled. "What could that be?" Raven tore it open with her pocket knife. It opened easily, and she pulled a piece of paper out. She read it aloud. "My wonderful friends, Here are a few things I noticed you were missing from your arsenal. I look forward to working with you again, Clyde & Company" Raven smiled. "Looks like we made some friends," she said. She opened the box and pulled out the contents. "Here, Enid, you're the supply lieutenant, catalogue these." Enid finished her cup of coffee and looked over the goodies. She found a packing list in the box and read it aloud. "Intimidator Stun Guns, 6 each; Telephone Voice Changer, 2 each; Night vision gunscopes, 2 each. Wow, that's cool. " "Woohoo," Kadira said, "It's good to have friends in high places." "Yeah," Raven said, "It's too bad they couldn't stay." "They came, they helped, they left, but we've got stun-guns," Steve said. Amber frowned, "I still want those crossbows." "Relax," Raven said, "It's a long war. You'll get your crossbows." "Good," Amber sighed, "'Cuz I'd have to kick some serious butt." "Yeah," Taryn said, "And my belts too." "Okay, folks, looks like we got some serious planning to do here." Raven ordered. "Amen." Kim said. ============================= Evil Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Sat Aug 21 14:20:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IFhl-0007O6-01; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 14:17:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6167; Sat, 21 Aug 99 14:15:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2505; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 14:15:02 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 11:16:54 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--Mischief in the Morgue To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 68ac77993c7725ac75e278beff70ab33 21 Aug 1999 Coroner's Office/Morgue Toronto, ON 9 am Disclaimer: The Morgue is used with the gracious consent of Jill and the NatPack. Mischief in the Morgue By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia The Vaqueras and Vaquero stood on the corner across from the Coroner's Office and smirked. "Okay, y'all, let's get into the act," Felicia said. Scott, Teresita, Melissa and the Vaq Adj donned white lab coats and prepared to go in. Holding folders in one hand and black medical bags in the other, the miscreants darted across the street and walked in the building confidently. "Walk fast and look important," the head Vaq Brat whispered, "no one will even notice us." They found their way to the elevators and punched the down button. They were still waiting when two *real* doctors approached and stood near them. "Haven't seen you guys around. Are you new," one asked. The Vaqs smiled. They had prepared for this. "We are visiting medical students from the University," Scott told them. "We are just looking around." "Oh! Well, what is your field of expertise? What do you want to specialize in?" Teresita looked at Melissa. Melissa looked at Scott. Scott looked at Felicia. She took a deep breath. "We are studying the effects of different proteins in the body. To be specific, the effects of taste receptors in rats. We are interested in finding out what causes a rat to feel full, thereby causing it to stop feeding. We believe that it is a protein called 'alpha gustducin'. If we can confirm that this protein triggers saiety, then we may be able to clone that device and insert it into people. This is useful to those working with the obese. We hope to get a grant. . . " "Right, we understand. Sounds interesting. Good luck." The two men moved off, apparently deciding on the stairs. They could be heard muttering, "Rats, again with the rats! What's going in in this town?" When the Vaqs were safely in the elevator and the doors shut, Teresita turned to Felicia. "What the heck were you talkin' about? Alpha *what*?" Felicia laughed. "I told you my sweetie studies immunology! I didn't read parts of his thesis and go to his defense and watch his presentations only to learn nothing. Of course, I never thought it would come up in a conversation." She shrugged. Scott rolled his eyes. "Is that what that thesis was about? It never made much sense to me." Melissa sighed, "I *still* don't understand!" The doors opened and the Vaqs emerged. They quickly located the lab, and looked around. It was deserted. "That's odd," Teresita noted. Scott agreed. "Maybe a shift change or something." "Who cares! This is ideal!" Melissa shoved through the doors and ran over to the table where the dissecting instruments were kept. She opened her bag and pulled out the glue. "Are y'all sure about this," Scott asked. "I don't want to ruin anything important." "Ah," Teresita waved him off. "That right drawer is full of the stuff. They've got plenty of extras." Melissa snapped on two latex gloves. With a fiendish Vaq grin, she squeezed healthy portions of glue onto each tool. She then replaced them in the exact order in which she found them. "Oh, wow, I love it," she said surveying her handiwork. Teresita, Scott and Felicia opened their bags. Scott opened the cooler where the blood supply was kept. "I never understood why she kept so much here," he said. "Why, for you-know-who, of course," Teresita laughed. "Yeah, but he doesn't need it now. None of them do," the Vaq Adj said. "What a mess that is. I wonder how TS is doin' with her research. Juan has her busy as a bee." "Well, let's finish and get outta here, amigo and amigas," Melissa said. The Vaqs cleared out the blood supply and replaced it with the peaches they had carried in their bags. "Hey, why are we using peaches? Shouldn't they be apricots," Scott asked. "Well, technically, it was still the Jeweled Peach that came under attack." "Oh, right." "I've got a question, though," Felicia started, "what is with the big purple dinosaur theme in this war? First the Peach was full of images and *that* song, and then last night our music was nabbed and replaced with, again, *that* song. Odd, huh? "I'll say, Twink. Too weird. C'mon, Vaquero and Vaqueras, let us away!" And merrily, away they went. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2, Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!) Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 21 14:25:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IFoB-0007Wd-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 14:24:03 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6200; Sat, 21 Aug 99 14:19:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2824; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 14:19:27 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 11:20:34 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: Escape to the Seraglio (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3040db87eb199bb43358cabe8b54445d WAR: UF: Escape to the Seraglio (1/1) By: Les GS Setting: The Harem's Headquarters Time: Thursday, August 19th, evening "The Couch" used with permission. Les stood on the driveway of the Hive, resisting the impulse to kick at a cobble with her freshly polished boots. Instead, she jingled the keys to the van in her pocket. "Jiminy Christmas," she muttered, "how long can it take to put on some clothes?" To soothe herself, she stuck an unlit Havana between her teeth. She didn't light it; doing so drew many unfavorable comments from her fellow UFfers for some reason. She pulled on her earphones as well. She'd found if she squeezed the discman in just the right place, she could get the chipmunk on the CD Bons had given her as a PTD to slow down a bit, and by golly, if it then didn't start sounding something like Nick. She was standing there, applying pressure and releasing it during alternate sonnets, when the others, at last, ventured out of the Hive. They looked pretty spiff, actually and she told them so. "Hey, y'all look pretty spiff!" "And Les! You even brushed your hair!" exclaimed Shan, eyes wide with mock amazement. "No, I didn't," Les replied, grinning, running her palm over the short shock of hair, making it stand straight up. "Amie's ferret ran off with my comb." Shan continued studying the other's near buzz cut. "Y'know, you're looking a bit shaggy there, Les. You should let me at you with the clippers." "Shaggy..?" Les anxiously ran her fingers through the stubble over her ears. "Ya think?" Marilyn gave the grinning Shan a little shove. "Be good." "I can't," mourned Shan. "I'm temperamentally incapable." "Then go sit in the back of the van and plot quietly to yourself." "Yes'm," Shan replied meekly, and she made her way into the van, followed by `Chele, Presence and Cleo. Marilyn sat in the passenger seat to make sure their driver, Les, actually got them to the party. She soon learned not to use the words `left' and `right,' as Les would simply turn, taking a stab at the 50/50 odds that it would be the correct direction. They got to the party anyway, or there wouldn't be much point to this post, now would there? As they pulled into the drive at the Harem's headquarters, Les noticed the black jaguar, its occupants slowly emerging to allow the valet to park it. The UFfers in the van uttered yelps of alarm as she had to slam on the brakes to avoid rear-ending the car waiting behind the jag. "What in the world..?" demanded Marilyn. "Sorry. Pulled a Nick," Les apologized. "The last black jag I saw was Lacroix's and I'd just gotten it stuck in a muddy cow pasture." She shuddered. "A little PTSS from War 7." They waited their turn for the valet. When he got to them, Les handed him the keys to the van, saying, "There's handy wipes in the nook under the dash. Sorry about the steering wheel. It's just as the War goes on, the UF gets tackier and tackier." He looked at her in confusion then, but by the time he'd parked the car, he proved quite grateful for the wipes. Their hostess, Randora, greeted them graciously at the door. Les stared vaguely at the necklace around her neck, thinking she'd seen something kinda like it before until Cleo nudged her in the ribs. This knocked free the prepared speech the distractible UFfer had prepared beforehand. "ThankyouverymuchforinvitingusandcongratulationsonSixYearsofbeing SmokeFree." The Harem leader smiled, realizing courtesy was being attempted at any rate, and directed them to where refreshments could be found. The UFfers wandered their way further inside and looked around, finding the place quite attractive. They mingled for a little while, people-watching and chatting with guests they knew by reputation but had never met. Cleo and Presence decided they were thirsty and headed for the bar. The other UFfers opted for food and were almost to the snacks when Shan said, "Isn't that the Blond Hormon- I mean, Nick?" Uffish heads swiveled as one and sure enough, there was Nick, seated on the couch by the fireplace, chatting with Randora, other women clustered around him. "So it is," murmured `Chele. Nick was looking pretty good. He'd picked up a few pounds and a little tan. Les hoped the Knighties were slathering him up with sun screen before he went out. "He's got some color," commented Marilyn. "Should we go say hello?" Les felt her cheeks getting warm. "You go ahead. I'm going to check out the bar and snacks." "What an interesting shade you've become, Les," Shan commented wickedly. "You haven't developed a phobia about Nick as well as Lacroix, have you? A little unfortunate for an UFfer." "I prefer to obsess from a distance," retorted Les, attempting haughtiness. "It doesn't have anything to do with getting cornered in a bathroom by them both in the last War, does it?" inquired `Chele with a far too innocent expression. "'Course not," Les insisted. "I just want a drink." She wheeled and stomped off, trailed by Marilyn's, "Coffee, Les! You're driving." Sorely trounced, Les retreated to the bar, following her nose to find the coffee. Having obtained a cup of it, she paused next to Cleo and Presence, who were wondering what the legal drinking age was here in Canada, and then deciding to play it safe and go for sodas. "Did you guys see Nick?" Les asked. They both turned to their heads to look over their shoulders at the mortalized vamp. "Yep. He's... something in person," said Cleo. "Yeah," Presence agreed. "Even more something than really comes across on TV." Sodas in hand, they rejoined the other guest, pausing frequently to take another good look at one half of The Guys. Les wandered about, accepting an hors d'oeuvre from one of the aggressive servers in "I Dream of Jeannie" outfits that suddenly mobbed the place. She gathered with a cluster of other UFfers, `Chele, Marilyn and Shan, when a commotion broke out on the stage. A new band, in sheik costumes, invaded the dance band's space and a battle of clashing notes took place. Randora went for a great save by shutting up the bands and getting the servers, who also proved to be dancers, up on the stage. The dancers seemed a bit tentative at the beginning, but they warmed up pretty quick and soon had the UFfers clapping in time with the music. Marilyn bent her head to comment discretely to her companions, "Well, what they lack in technique, they certainly make up for in enthusiasm." A roar of approval rose up from the audience as Nick was coaxed up to join the dancers. Marilyn had the presence of mind to pull out the camera Susan had pressed upon her, telling her to make sure she took photos to prove they'd been at the party. She carefully made sure everything was in order, then used all 36 exposures to capture Nick's performance, silently blessing auto-focus the while. Cleo and Presence, standing by the couch by the fireplace, watched as Nick and the belly dancers gyrated on the stage, eyes a little wide. Goodness, he moved very... nicely. A shift in the crowd blocked Cleo's view and she quickly slid to one side to compensate. Her hip made sudden contact with the back of the couch she stood beside. It probably would have been with bruising force, but her black leather bag served as cushioning between her and the sofa. There was, however, a disconcerting crunching sound. Her bag began to slip from her shoulder, she grabbed at it, got one corner, the bag tipped and a trickle of clear fluid spilled from it, anointing the side of the couch. A cloud of Fuzzy Peach perfume enveloped her. "Oops," she murmured. Presence, nose suddenly assaulted, turned to stare at her friend. "Cleo, what did you *do*!?" "Um. My bottle of Fuzzy-Peach-annoying-guy-repellent broke. Um. Some got on the couch." "Here," Presence hissed, handing her a wad of cocktail napkins, "wipe it up! Quick!" Other guests were turning, brows furrowed, looking for the source of heavy, sweet, fruity odor. Fortunately, Nick attempted a rather daring grind at that point, distracting them immediately. The sensory overload on their noses was nothing compared to what their eyes were receiving. Cleo mopped madly, but really, the chemical nature of the perfume was such that the leather upholstery of the couch absorbed the scent like a parched sponge. "Presence," she whispered, "this is hopeless." "Oh, man. Should we tell someone?" "I think we need to get to a bathroom first and get your bag cleaned up. You didn't get any of that stuff on you, did you?" The two young UFfers made their way slowly though the crowd, slowly, with many wide-eyed glances at the activity on the stage, leaving behind a trail of wrinkled noses. They finally found a bathroom, but, try as they might, the bag seemed to be permanently Peached. They emerged, and `Chele pounced on them. "There you are! Listen, Marilyn thinks we better go home, Nick just told us a knock-knock joke, a server was carried out raving and Marilyn is concerned it might be something contagious and the snacks could be contaminated and Les has that fixed stare that means she's composing slash, the dancing got to her and she's now humming the theme song to `Lawrence of Arabia,' she drives in the condition all the time, so we're probably safe, but she's going to need access to her `puter soon." "Wow. Not a single breath taken," murmured Presence. "Sheer talent," murmured Cleo in return. They allowed themselves to be hustled into the van, where they were directed to hold the Peached bag out the wing window in the back until they got home. Half way there, Cleo remembered she'd said nothing to their hostesses about her accident with their couch, now probably permanently Peached itself. She managed to feel guilty about it for 5 whole city blocks, but then had to give it up. UFfers just can't angst with any real commitment. From - Sat Aug 21 15:50:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IGNE-0000LB-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 15:00:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7868; Sat, 21 Aug 99 14:58:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4700; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 14:58:09 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 14:58:08 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War: Knighties: Glasses, Glasses Who has the Glasses? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8aabf9ed121f6e8606963de1946f07d7 Title: Glasses Glasses, Who Has The Glasses By Knightie Katrinka All Knighties and Nick used with permission Time: 4am Date: Wednesday August 18, 1999 Katrinka stumbled into the kitchen looking for coffee. Usually this wouldn't be a problem, but she had lost her glasses. She had put them down in the usual place, but when she woke, no glasses. The problem was, Katrinka was legally blind without her glasses. As she felt around for the coffee pot, her hand hit a silk shirt. She looked up. A fuzzy face looked down to her. Katrinka moved closer. "What's wrong?" the unmistakable voice of Nick asked. "I've lost my glasses." "Is this a bad thing?" "I can't see without them!" "Nearsighted?" "Very," "How did you get so nearsighted?" "I had scarlet fever when I was eleven." "What does your eyeglass case look like?" Nick sounded concerned. "It's red, bright red." Nick shoved Katrinka into a chair. "Wait here, I'll get the Knighties to find your glasses." Katrinka watched as a dark-clad blob went into the living room. "Everyone! I need your assistance!" "What kind of help?" Roz sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Katrinka's lost her glasses." "Is that all?" Adriana groaned. "Katrinka is legally blind without her glasses." Eowyn got to her feet. "She's our cook! Without her glasses her cooking might be as bad as Zoe's." Nick pointed out. "Watch it! My cooking might be good someday!" Zoe put her hands on her hips. "That's not the point! Katrinka needs her glasses." With a groan the Knightie began to look for the glasses. "Are you sure you had your glasses?" Stephers asked. "Of course I did!" "Where you drinking?" "I didn't drink last night." "And your glasses case is red?" "Yes!" Katrinka almost shouted. "It's red!" Thirty minutes later, the glasses couldn't be found. The loft had been turned upside down. A very frustrated Adriana asked. "Where did you put your glasses?" "I don't know." "Why can't you find them?" "Because I can't see without them." "Perhaps you should start sleeping in them." The Knightie turned on her heels and walked off. "Don't worry Katrinka, I'll help you cook." Nick promised. "I will too." Zoe said. "NO!!!!!!!!!!!!" several Knighties and Nick said at the same time. "It's not fair! I want to help! Why can't I?" Zoe stomped her foot. "Because your cooking's a health hazard?" Roz asked. "It's okay Zoe. You can help me." Katrinka patted her arm. "Kat...." Roz said slowly. "I'll tell her exactly what we want to do. She won't mess up." Katrinka told the Knightie leader. "Your cooking for the Vaq's aren't you?" Mindy asked. "You should make something for the Dark Perks too," Roz suggested. "What kind of cooking?" Nick's voice got lower. "Did you see what they did to the caddie?" "We've already gotten revenge for that." Roz reminded Nick. "I thought we could do a peace gesture, and bring them some cookies." Katrinka said. "Your friends with Vachon aren't you? Tracy's your partner isn't she?" "Sometimes." Nick admitted. "Tell you what, I'll help you cook." "Are you sure you want to do that?" Roz asked. "Well, this way, I can make sure that Mindy doesn't blow anything up!" Nick smiled and picked up a cookbook. From - Sat Aug 21 16:06:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IHNm-0006hj-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 16:04:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6657; Sat, 21 Aug 99 15:57:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8701; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 15:57:48 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 15:59:07 EDT Reply-To: Ccfrn1@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Forward Subject: WAR: Knighties: Apres Party To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: eda3dce737d0c57e8f46619298c04b5e Knighties: Apres Party By: Chris F., and Gemsong Place: The Limo and the Loft Time: Thursday Night Nick and all Knighties used with permission. All the way home in the limo from the Harem party, Nick had been merrily humming a tune - Beethoven he thought, or was it Lennon and McCartney - but persisting in rubbing his forehead. Headaches: now there was something he *didn't* miss about mortality. He had one arm each around the shoulders of Gemsong and Mindy, while Sandra opened the limo door. It took their combined strength to get him out of the back seat and into the elevator. As the elevator opened, he greeted the other Knighties expansively, going to each one in turn kissing their hands grandly. As Adriana swooned to the carpet in delight, Nancy raised her eyebrows at the sight, and reminded the trio of their pledge not to let him overindulge. "You said not to let him overeat, " Mindy defended herself. Who knew he couldn't hold his punch? "Punch, schmunch", snorted Gemsong."If that wasn't spiked, then I'm a Cousin." A collective shudder went through the room at the thought. "This was the work of the GSS - their M.O. is all over it ," she grumbled. Nick kicked his shoes off - one into the balcony, another into the skylight (which fortunately wasn't going to break under mere mortal pressure). "Whoa! My dogs are barking!" he exclaimed. As he leaned over to rub his feet, he grabbed his head in pain with an angonizing "Aaaaahghhhhh!" "Time for some nursing intervention here," said Chris, the Knight Nurse, as she rose from her comfy spot on the couch. Gem, you're an RN, help out here! The two of them guided/dragged him upstairs to the master bathroom. There they helped him out of most of his clothes and turned on the whirlpool bath. "Not too hot, Chris" warned Gemsong, he's already vasodilated with all the alcohol, and he's not used to being hot. "Good point. Just lukewarm should be enough. I guess we can't take off all of his clothes, huh?" Gemsong, appeared lost in thought for a moment, but then snapped out of it. "No, we may be nurses, but this is a pg war." "Yeah, you're right. Besides, I don't think he'll notice." Sure enough, the inebriated ex-vampire plunged head first into the roiling waters, and the two Knighties had to leap in after him to get his head above water. Chris sat with his head against her chest and began massaging his temples. Gemsong picked up his feet and gently rubbed them in all the right places. "Aaahh, thass all better now" mumbled Nick. Chris looked with appreciation at Gem's skill. "They never taught me anything like that in nursing school". "Nursing school, schmursing school", Gem laughed. I learned that in Miss Priddy's Finishing School for Fine Southern Ladies! "So, Nick - you can party with the Harem, but leave it to the Knighties to take care of you at the end of the day, eh?" observed Chris. "Nick? Nick?" "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ" was his only reply. "Oh good grief - I guess our job here is done". Chris and Gemsong, looking like drowned rats [you have to mention rats if you're going to post in this war, y'know], called to the other Knighties for help. Katrinka and Mindy brought a thick Turkish towel, while Nancy, Eowyn, Roz and Sandra helped to heave the sleeping ex-vampire out of the tub. "OOfff!" exclaimed Gemsong, he may be mortal, but he's a dead weight right now. Gently the Knighties dried him off. "Are we going to leave any of his clothes on?" whispered Stephanie. They looked at each other with mixed feelings, but Chris reminded them that this was a pg war, so they left him in the bare minimum, wrapped him in a fresh, dry towel, and placed him in his bed on the black satin sheets. Zoe and Adriana covered him gently, and closed the shades. They all stood back in unison and looked at him longingly, then retreated to the downstairs to requite their other passion: chocolate! finis From - Sat Aug 21 20:29:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IIRW-0004zn-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 17:12:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4974; Sat, 21 Aug 99 17:10:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3078; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 17:10:34 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 17:09:20 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Harem Holiday 03/04 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2e746ba6f86a0d2c17e89981d4c11a62 NA: Harem Holiday 03/04 by Patt Elmore When: Evening, Thursday, August 19, 1999 The party at Nick's Harem Concurrent and wedged in between segments of "War: Knighties: A Knight out (1/1)" Where: Harem HQ Addicts all used with permission and input; Harem wives and staff used with permission of the Harem leadership. Nick used with permission of the Knightie leadership Vaqs used with permission and input [Hope I didn't forget anyone this time--note: We have four parts now.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A fuming KC felt her butt contact the earth. Not since she had been ejected by the aliens had she felt so abused. "I am not a RatPacker!" the addict declared, standing up and shaking her fist to the heavens. "I am KC, Mistress of Silliness, Goddess of Evil. THEY SHALL FEAR ME!!" She took one moment to offer the Harem hotel a ripe raspberry, then ran for the NA van. After a few minutes of rooting through the plethora of items which the addicts had placed, stored or lost in the van, KC found what she was looking for. She examined the explosive device and began grinning manically. Erik found Tiff, standing at the wet bar. "I said I was Asian-Scot," the addict was trying to explain to a puzzled bartender, "not that I wanted *ancient Scotch.*" She held up the shot glass and made a face. "This stuff is nasty. And, I'm underage, so they'll probably revoke your license." As the bartender quickly snatched back the Scotch and handed Tiff the soda she had originally requested, the brunette addict heard a strange, yet familiar, noise. It sounded like a muffled *meep,* mixed with the sound of crushed ice. "Come on," Erik said, grabbing Tiff's arm. "This caper is winding down and I need you to go get the get-away vehicle ready to go." "Hold it, mister." Tiff dug in her heals and stood firm. "I don't drive." Erik paused, flabbergasted. "How can you survive and not drive?" The evil addict grinned and pulled a skateboard from within the folds of her outfit. "With this." "Nice wheels," Erik noted. "But, this isn't accomplishing the task I was assigned. The get-the-van was a ruse; I'm really supposed to get you out of the party before you and the Dark Perks collide." Tiff looked past Erik into the ballroom, recognizing several DP's. Her eyes narrowed. "I am a Dark seeking missile. Get out of my way." "No can do, Tiff," Erik said, catching the woman's shoulders. "Time to go. Our party crashing might just give the DP the grounds they need to have your bail revoked. This would not be good, since we addicts need you in other plot situations." Tiff stopped, then sighed. "Live to fight another day, right?" Erik smiled and nodded. "Okay," Tiff said, extending her hand. "Give me the van keys--I can at least get the engine revved up." Keys in hand, Tiff made for the kitchen exit. As she burst through the service entrance, she saw KC running across the lawn, heading toward the opposite side of the building. Tiff pondered, then headed to the van. Meanwhile, up on the stage. The addict dance continued to grow more and more provocative, much to the delight of the men and the torment of the women in the audience. The addicts circled Nick, tracing his body with their floating hands. The vampire detective grinned with delight. Patt made her way across the ballroom floor, seeking Amethyst and wary of Vaqueras. She was stopped, however, by Randora's staying hand. "I can't seem to find the choreographer--wasn't her name Tiff?" Harem Wife #1 said. "I noticed that you seem to be clothed in all the different veil colors and was wondering if you had any authority?" "Not a bit," Patt replied. "And, I have credentials to prove it. Want to see?" Patt whipped out a synopsis of her various War escapades and shoved it at Randora. "Very thorough," Randora replied, pushing the papers away. "I really just wanted to ask you a question. Since it looks like everyone on stage is having so much fun, do you think the professionals would mind if some of us amateurs joined them?" "Dance your little belly off, Randy," Patt nodded. "Go for it." Then, the mature addict noticed Randora's odd necklace. "That's weird . . . I have one just like it . . ." "Rumba!" Randora cried, ignoring Patt's comment about the element. That was all the signal that the Nicky-Loving women needed. They began clambering onto the stage like pre-pubescents going after a teen idol. Up on stage, Chip grinned broadly. "Hey guys, I think we have cross-over status. We've graduated from teeny boppers to adult women. We may have a career yet!" "Except for one small problem, mate," Daryl said. "No crossing over allowed." "And that," Nick grinned goofily, "is okay. I never wanted to cross over in the first place. I was drunk and got seduced." "Tsk, tsk, mate," Daryl empathized with the blonde ex-vampire. "Some shady lady take you by the element of surprise, did she?" "Yes," Nick nodded, smiling as Christy whirled past, brushing his chin with her Micky-ears. He looked back at the musician. "But, I lived . . . more or less." Patt continued her mission to find Amethyst. She saw a red head bobbing ahead and burrowed on toward it. The Third Cousin pushed through the crowd and came face to face with black cow hide. Felicia looked into the veiled addict's eyes, her own narrowing with recognition. "Don't I know you?" Patt refrained from speaking and shook her head. "I think I do. Something about you is *very* familiar." The Vaq sniffed, then her eyes closed to slits. "I smell crawfish." Felicia reached out and ripped the veil from Patt's face. "NUNKIES!" she cried. "That's *NUNKIES ADDICTS,* you ignorant Vaquera!" Patt shouted in retort. "LaCroix is Nunkies, and we are addicts. For the 1,000,000,000,000,000th time, can't you all . . ." Patt's eyes swept the room, her voice loud and proud, " . . . get that one simple fact straight. LaCroix=Nunkies; Addicts=Addicts. It's really very simple." The whole ballroom was dead silent. All eyes stared at the rainbow clad woman who had just finished yelling at them. "OUCH!" All heads in the ballroom turned again, this time their attention on the stage. That yelp of pain had emanated from Nick. The detective was rubbing his posterior, giving a smirking Allie a dirty look. "The wench pinched me!" Nick cried. "Patt?!!" a familiar voice called across the room. The Third Cousin looked up, catching sight of Amethyst waving at her. "I didn't think you were coming to the party. I need to talk with you!" "And, I need to get my fingers around your scrawny little neck." Patt lunged for Harem Wife #2, intent on bodily harm. Unfortunately, there were still a number of bodies between Patt and Amethyst, one of them belonging to Vaquera Teresita. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 03/04 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 21 20:29:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IJ0u-000485-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 17:49:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8867; Sat, 21 Aug 99 17:47:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8998; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 17:47:17 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 14:49:08 PDT Reply-To: Cousin Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Shelley Subject: WAR: UF: The Hive's Hives Arrive ,1/3 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9f88b702019be3f0592d06feda3fc89c TITLE: The Hive's Hives Arrive, 1/3 BY: Cousin Shelley LOCATION: The Hive, and various streets, back alleys and yards of extremely startled people. TIME: Wednesday afternoon `````````````` "This is too small for the Queen to fit through." Lora leaned forward on her elbows and pointed at a picture in a well-worn book. "It keeps her in the bottom so she can't lay eggs in the upper combs." Presence clenched her fists and tried to concentrate on the honey part of the explanations. Shelley leaned in from the other side and pointed to a creased page. "And this is for re-Queening a hive." The tense woman, semi-trapped between the two bee fans, gripped the edge of the table. "It takes 3 days for the bees to eat through the opening to free the new Queen. By then, her scent is established in the hive. Otherwise, they'd sting her to death," Shelley finished as she and Lora looked at each other, nodding, the way only two people with a common zeal can. At the word 'sting' Presence's already incredibly pale skin cooled to a ghostly grey and she wobbled in her chair. Lora and Shelley snapped out of their bee-induced reverie and rushed to reassure their friend. "Just think, they make *honey*. And honestly, they don't want to sting you just as much as you don't want to be stung," Lora said as she patted a stiffened arm. "Exactly," Shelley said. "Kamikaze, you know. One sting and it's all over. I'm sure they'd rather not kill themselves just for the pleasure of zapping somebody." Shelley and Lora smiled at Presence who was visibly relaxing, if only a little. "You're right," Presence said. "I know *that* much about bees, but . . ." She shuddered and wrinkled up her face. "You're doing great," Shelley said. "Fears are hard to face. We just want you to be all right with the hives in the backyard. I mean, a bee is bound to get near you while you're here. Just, whatever you do, don't panic. And don't ever swat at it." Lora nudged Shelley and in her best pretentious 6th-grade-teacher-sappy-lecture tone declared, "The honeybee is our friend." All three laughed. "Yeah, unlike wasps." Shelley's eyes took on a faraway look and her face grew taut. "Those little buggers always seem to come looking for me. I mean, I can spot one 15 feet away and sure enough it heads straight for me, all angry-like and buzzy." Presence started to rise. "Uh, I'd better go . . . do . . . oh something." Before she'd cleared her chair, the round-faced woman continued. "They're just vicious little, wicked-looking nasty little mean things. And sting? Ooooh. They can sting and sting and sting and it doesn't bother 'em a bit. I think I must have a big fat bullseye on me somewhere that can only be seen with those little evil waspy eyeballs. And does anything hurt like a wasp sting? I don't--" "Shelley!" Lora slapped her arm. "If you keep talking about stings and wasps and--" As they heard the thud, both women turned in time to see two small feet flip into the air. "She's down again--get the salts!" As Shelley and Lora were lifting a groggy Presence, trying to help her back into her chair, happy shouts rang out from another room. "They're here! Hey guys, they're here!" Lora and Shelley smiled at each other and dashed toward the voices, eager to see the hives and get them in place. A few seconds later they returned, less animated than before, and lifted their groggy and now irritated friend from the floor where, in their excitement, they'd dropped her. End 1/3 -------------- Cousin Shelley netbus1@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 21 20:29:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IJ5m-0006Dw-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 17:54:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8886; Sat, 21 Aug 99 17:52:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9402; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 17:52:16 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 14:54:08 PDT Reply-To: Cousin Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Shelley Subject: WAR: UF: The Hive's Hives Arrive, 2/3 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f6ebf9e04ffef94e9841c12f55310bde TITLE: The Hive's Hives Arrive, 2/3 BY: Cousin Shelley LOCATION: The Hive, etc. etc. TIME: Wednesday Afternoon "Dad sent four established hives. And here's the rest of the equipment. Smoker, suits--" "Hey Shell, what's in the small box?" "I don't know. Oh, here're his written instructions for everything." Shelley smirked as she held up a thick ream of paper. "Dad's very . . . specific." "Well, I guess. I thought maybe he'd sent you War and Peace." Lora laughed. "We get to keep these hives, right?" "Yup. They can't cross back over the border. They be ours forevermore." Lora, with a crowd of excited UFfers, set about the technicalities involved in placing the hives while Shelley turned to carry the mystery box inside, her curiosity peaked. On the way through the door she bumped into Presence who was rubbing her head and mumbling. "Oh, hey, sorry about, uh, dropping you. I don't know where our heads were." "I do," Presence grumbled under her breath. "Huh?" Shelley was too enthralled with the unmarked, unexpected package to pay attention. She stepped back and let Presence come completely through the doorway. While the women stood there, one irritated, one distracted, a honeybee lit on the unidentified cardboard box Shelley was holding. Presence gasped and jerked backwards. "No no, now don't panic," Shelley said. It's just a bee. Probably not even out of our hives, just an ordinary, innocent bee that you could encounter any day, anywhere." Presence swallowed hard and slowly started to back away, yet facing hear fear by fighting the urge to bolt. Just as both women thought the situation had passed the bee took flight and began buzzing an orbit around the terror-stricken woman's head. "Just stay calm," Shelley said. "The trick is not to swat at it. Then it'll leave you alone." At the dark look her friend gave her, she said, "It will. Eventually." As if on cue, the troublemaking bee flew in one more tight circle around Presence's head and was gone. She sighed, then shakily said, "Oh my gosh, I did it! I didn't freak out!" As she high-fived her friend, Shelley said, "But I'll bet you wouldn't want to do it again any time soon, right?" Presence laughed and started to speak, but froze, her eyes wide and directed at Shelley's shoulder. "Shell?" Presence raised a slightly trembling finger and pointed. "Just. Don't. Panic." The short woman's gaze followed the finger's trajectory and she slowly turned her head to the right. Presence took a slow step backwards, still pointing. "Just whatever you do, don't swa--" Presence jumped as Shelley screamed, dropped the forgotten box and frantically batted at her right shoulder. The heavy-set woman sprinted away at an impressive speed. The wasp pursued. Naturally. "--swat at it." By the time the sentence was out, Shelley had disappeared from sight. The only evidence that the wasp hadn't given up its chase was the steady and disturbing caterwauling that, despite the screaming woman's growing distance from the Hive, seemed to escalate in pitch and volume. A few miles away, a very upset Betty Sanders placed a frantic phone call. "Yes, police! There's this horrible screeching noise, and it keeps getting louder. Someone's being murdered, please hurry!" Her husband, peering out the front window, muttered, "I can't hear the TV. Sounds like somebody's skinnin' a live cat! Wait, wait . . . it's stopped." Back at the Hive, Presence rushed inside to answer the ringing phone. "Hello?" A tight voice whispered. "I think I ditched it in an alley. Can you come pick me up? I'm in a phone booth on the corn--" The shrill scream nearly rendering her deaf, Presence jerked the phone from her ear. When the noise was less intense, she tried again. "Shelley, hey, are you there?" Presence knew from the steady knocking and the quickly fading primal scream that the phone had been dropped and was now swinging on its cord, banging the booth walls, and her excitable friend was running, yet again, through the Toronto streets, flailing her arms and hollering like a deranged idiot. Lora has this way with bees, Presence suddenly remembered. I wonder if she can help get that thing away from Shelley? She started outside to explain the situation to Lora and to rescue her frantic friend, but then she mentally replayed the events from a few moments before the hives arrived. Rubbing the small bump on the back of her head, and then what was sure to be a nice bruise on the side of her butt, she stopped. "Oh well, it'll leave her alone." She giggled. "Eventually." Presence headed back into the house to make herself an ice-pack and to watch Leslie and Lora and the other UFfers arrange the beehives in the back--through a nice, thick window, thank you very much. End 2/3 Cousin Shelley netbus1@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 21 20:29:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IJBP-0000pM-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 18:00:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7557; Sat, 21 Aug 99 17:56:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9637; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 17:56:04 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 14:57:56 PDT Reply-To: Cousin Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Shelley Subject: WAR: UF: The Hive's Hives Arrive, 3/3 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8eb8402600ff1afda58677e8c5c2110f TITLE: The Hive's Hives Arrive BY: Cousin Shelley LOCATION: The Hive, etc. etc. TIME: Wednesday afternoon "What was *that*?" Julia asked as she and Leslie stood admiring their new, mini honey farm. Leslie shrugged. "Sounded like someone being tortured." At least half of the UFfers smiled, including Leslie. She shook her head. "No, I mean *really* tortured. I wonder what it was." "Probably Shelley," Laurey and April said, simultaneously. They looked at each other and laughed. Susan giggled, and agreed. "I'll bet it was." "What makes you think it's her?" Julia looked confused. "Well, I can't be positive," April said. "But it did sound familiar." Leslie frowned, incredulous. "You've heard her make a noise like that before?" "With Shelley, it's not an uncommon occurrence." Laurey's voice took on a conspiratorial tone. "She did it at least three times on the way here." Lora came running up to the group, waving an unbelievably thick ream of paper. "Shelley's dad sent everything, from hive set-up to honey-spinning equipment! He even set us up with some plastic combs. He says here," she scanned a scrawled line with her finger, "that plastic combs have worked great for him in a few hives because the bees don't have to spend the time and energy making wax, they can get straight to the honey production. Isn't that great?" Leslie took the instructions from Lora and scanned a few pages. She smiled and passed the tome to Julia. "Gotta love this guy. Her dad is really being generous with us. Speaking of Shelley..." Lora, pushing an errant strand of hair from her face, said, "Oh, she just went pealing out of here making the most excruciating noise, aren't the hives great?" She pulled her hair loose, ran her finger through her sheep-thick curls and repositioned it in a bun on the back of her head. "So," Julia said. "Once the hives are settled, which they are, if we leave them alone, which we will, the bees will start producing honey in about 3 hours, according this, ah, novel we have here." Leslie rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "I guess there's not much else we can do out here. Hey, I wonder what was in that small, unmarked box he sent?" "Let's go see." Laurey headed toward the Hive. "I wonder if Shelley even got it open before she had her Xanax moment." All the women followed Laurey, except one. "I think I'll stay out here a while, and just watch the hives," Lora said. As the yard emptied, the tall UFfer sat on the ground, watching and listening. She couldn't wait for the first workers to emerge in search of pollen. After all, she had a way with bees. End 3/3 ============ Cousin Shelley netbus1@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sat Aug 21 20:29:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IK3j-0002Ik-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 18:56:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7750; Sat, 21 Aug 99 18:54:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2073; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 18:54:13 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 18:55:21 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Harem Holiday 04/04 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1e1bc8347de40df58248c19e23367aba NA: Harem Holiday 04/04 by Patt Elmore When: Evening, Thursday, August 19, 1999 The party at Nick's Harem Concurrent and wedged in between segments of "War: Knighties: A Knight out (1/1)" Where: Harem HQ Addicts all used with permission and input; Harem wives and staff used with permission of the Harem leadership. Nick used with permission of the Knightie leadership Vaqs used with permission and input [Hope I didn't forget anyone this time] Waves to the UF LARGE section contributed by KC, so don't *howl* at me. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "You addicts have the most terrible taste in decorations," Vaquera Teresita sneered at the Third Cousin. "I hope that you properly appreciate the work we've done on your Shrine." "As I hope you enjoy what NA has done for your church," Patt replied, trying to push past the Vaq. "I think the worst example of bad folk art was the bottom of your pond," Vaq Tabitha joined in the taunting. "A little water- color took care of the problem, though." The two Vaqueras began to laugh. "You mutilated our mosaic?" Patt's voice raised a notch. "Well, we'll see how you feel when Uncle greets you at the Church every morning." "Oh . . . I'm shaking in my boots," Tammy shivered dramatically as she joined the group. "I need a drink to compose myself. How about a visit to that pit of a Peach?" The Vaqs chortled and punched at each other, delighted with their joke. "Have to admit, your trashing was more extensive than ours," Patt said. "But, then again, our ethics are more extensive. We'll chat more on this later, but I really need to run." Patt reached out, intent on forcing her way past the Vaqs. By now, the addicts on stage had noted their Third Cousin's situation and had hopped off the dais. They headed en mass toward the Vaqueras. Felicia caught Patt's arm, her glittering eyes meeting those of the Third Cousin. "We look forward to the opportunity." Then, the Vaqueras melted into the crowd. "Where did they go?" Caren said anxiously as she reached Patt's side. "Doesn't matter," Patt said, again looking for Amethyst. "Plenty of time to ventilate Vaqueras in a later story. Right now, we're running out of daily posting opportunities and I still don't have my truck." "Here." Patt felt a slight tap on her shoulder. The Third Cousin turned to face a smiling Amethyst, who dangled Patt's truck keys in front of the addict's nose. Instinctively, Patt made a fist and popped Wife#2's proboscis. Amethyst's eyes flew open wide and she fell *splat* on the floor. "Hey!" Nick vaulted off the stage and pushed through the crowd. "You can't do that to one of my Wives! You're under arrest for assault!!" "Well, arrest her for auto thieving while you're at it," Patt cried as Nick reached Amethyst's side. He lifted the red-haired woman to a sitting position and cradled her in his arms. "Ith al rite, Nick," Amethyst said through her depressed nasal cavities. She turned to look at Patt. "Didn yu geth my mettage? I thent it to the Thrine." Patt looked over and glared at the group of snickering Vaqueras. Behind them, Javier Vachon dangled a piece of paper from his fingers. "Better hurry," he shouted. "The truk ith at Bob'th Thofa repare," Amethyst continued. "An the cuthionth are at the cleanerth nex door." "But, dearest Wife," Nick said, his face contorted with worry and anger. "Your indiscretion still doesn't excuse this awful indignity that she has perpetrated on your person." "Why don yu juth kith it an make it bette?" Amethyst suggested. Patt grabbed the truck keys and gestured it was time to leave. The addicts picked up their skirts and sprinted for the lobby. "Toga!" Nite shouted as she ran. "Has anyone seen Egrus?" There was a crash behind the bar. In a whir of motion, three blenders hit the floor, spilling their contents. The barman did a wonderful job of trying to stay vertical, but to no avail. "There he is!" Glennis shouted, spying the bot trying to escape the liquid goo which held him glued to the floor. Monica grabbed up Egrus Toga and continued racing after the other NA's. As the addicts, closely followed by the Toenotes, burst into the reception area, the most awful Peach odor assaulted them. "You think they'll blame this on us too?" Jesse shouted, holding her nose against the noxious fumes. "You betcha," Erik nodded, shifting his half-mask so that it covered his nose. "Peach poop is nothing!" KC cried, running back into the room. "Wait until you see what I did to these inferiors." The addicts all turned and stared as KC began to cackle the most evil sound they'd ever heard. "She *is* more evil than Tiff," Dee conceded, handing Allie the $10.00 they'd bet earlier. "What did you do, KC?" Patt confronted the other addict. "I'm taking care of all our War problems in one big boom!" KC replied. "I planted a patented Snixco Mustard 'n Cheddar bomb under their stage." "You didn't?" Ivy was impressed, but scared to show it. "I hope that you're kidding, KC," Patt said softly. "Bombing is not good." KC just sneered. "You asked for idea snips and that's what I suggested for us to do. Deal with it!" "Toga, run!" The little bot struggled in Monica's arms until the woman was forced to release him. He began rolling back into the ballroom. "Bomb! Bomb!" he cried. "Hey, the little guy has another batch of drinks ready," one of the guests said, popping the blender's lid and dipping in. "Tasty!" "We've got to do something, Patt!" Caren said. "We can't let that bomb go off." Patt thought for a minute. "Erik, Caren . . . come with me. We'll see if we can defuse it. The rest of you--get to the van." She darted back into the ballroom, followed closely by her chosen team members. Ducking and weaving quickly through the party goers, the addicts reached the stage in record time. They burst through the access doors and headed under the stage. There, set by timer to go off in thirty seconds, was the Snixco Special. "We really need to get KC another hobby, something other than world domination and economic upheaval," Patt said, grasping the CC bomb. "No time to defuse--what do you suggest?" Caren and Erik looked at each, shrugged and took off. "Wonderful," Patt said, watching as the device ticked off to twenty seconds. Carrying the bomb, the Third Cousin clambered back out from under the stage and ran out the door into the parking lot. "Give it to me and I'll throw it in that vacant field," Tiff shouted as she raced toward Patt on her skateboard. "No time--we're at T-minus ten!" "Then toss it!" Tiff skillfully slipped off the skateboard and flipped it up with her foot, catching the board in mid-air. She held it ready, like a batter waiting for the pitch. Patt threw. Bomb connected with skateboard and rebounded with a loud *thwop*. It arched gracefully, then fell downward. Alas, the weight of the device caused it to fall short of the intended landing place. The bomb fell back to earth at the far end of the parking lot, rolling into position under a very nice van with Texas license plates. *KABLOOM* The addicts stared, aghast, as the very nice van seemed to implode, then suddenly appeared again, sporting an interesting new color. Yellow muck dripped from every inch of it, encrusting into dry patches with quick precision. "She's gonna be more p**sd about this than she is the nose," Patt nodded. She patted her pocket, found the two-for-one wash and wax she'd been given while in Trine's captivity and quickly stuck it under the slimey wiper blade. "What's going on out here?!!" Nick shouted, running from the Harem building, leading a group of concerned party participants. "What's all the noise?!!" "Screw that noise!" KC blustered to her addict companions and they tried to pull her into the NA van. "I ain't afraid of the big bad Brick!" With that KC ran across the parking lot, right up to the slack-jawed ex-vampire. KC straightened to her full height of five feet and looked Nick square in the eye. "My colleagues and I have a bone to pick with you!" the Tiny Terror bellowed. KC's cohorts waved meekly from across the lot. "And, what would that be?" Nick asked suspiciously. "You've been mean to our Nunkies! And we don't cotton to such goings-on!" KC huffed. Nick was thoroughly confused at this point. "Nunkies? Cotton? I don't understand," he mumbled. Finally reaching the apex of her righteous fury, KC took a firm grip of the Detective's nipple through his blue silk shirt. "Understand this!" she shouted, and gave the nubbins a savage twist. Nick immediately howled in pain and crumpled to the ground. After administering such an owie, there was only one thing left for KC to do. She ran like a constipated wiener dog. "Book it!" she shouted to her friends as she bolted past them. The other addicts, being no dummies, followed suit and clambering into the van. The Toenotes, toting Egrus Toga, climbed into the Beetle and all raced away from the still howling ex-vamp. "I can't believe you just gave an aged vampire, even if he is mortal, a purple murple!" Christy gasped. KC remained calm. "Wouldn't you agree he deserved it?" she replied. "Besides, I've always wanted to give him either a purple murple or a wet willie." "Yeah, but you wouldn't have the stones to try that on Nunkies, I bet!" Monica countered. "Of course not! I'm evil, not stupid!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End 04/04 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 21 22:00:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IMGD-0004Mz-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 21:17:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9427; Sat, 21 Aug 99 21:15:15 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7289; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 21:15:15 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 19:17:09 MDT Reply-To: Meg Anderson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Meg Anderson Subject: War: NP: The Natpack Meets the Harem (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e22ca9393f5b4f43504b0b6e15085e06 I'm sorry this is so late. Apologies to anyone who this may hove inconvenienced. ****************** The Natpack Meets the Harem (1/1) By Meg Anderson and the Natpack The three party-going Natpackers relaxed in the lime-green volkswagon. "Any clue as to where the party is?" Melissa, who was at the wheel, asked. "No," Meg replied, fidgeting with the pretty-bright-shiny around her neck. She wore it with her goldenrod chemise she'd bought when she was last in BC. "Does it matter?" Tina asked. "We're going to get lost anyways." "I meant the address," Melissa replied, stopping for a light. "Oh!" Tina responded, then spouted off an address. She picked up the bag of brownies at her feet. "Think there'll be enough?" Melissa nodded. "I'm sure they'll be inhaled just like everything else containing chocolate, and the Harem knows everyone well enough to keep that in ample supply." Meg sat up and leaned forward. "Did anyone know where they came from?" Tina shrugged and put the bag down. "No. As far as anyone knows, they didn't exist till Lady Angst found them in the van." Melissa'd hit a long stretch of uninhabited land. No houses, just darkened countryside. "Uh, Tina, you sure that's right?" "*Yes*, I'm sure. I'm not navigating, am I?" "Well... no," Melissa admitted. "Then what are you worried about?" "The fact that *I'm* navigating?" "She's got a point, Tina." Meg piped up from the back. "Hey, what's that?" Tina asked, pointing at a large house up ahead, with every light on and lots of people meandering in and out. A valet service appeared to be set up. "That'll be it!" Melissa exclaimed. She pulled the lime-green beetlebug into the long driveway that led up to the house. She stopped at the front and a young man stepped to her door. He bowed slightly and opened her door. She gave him a gracious smile as Tina and Meg got out, smirking. "You know, I think there's an epidemic," he commented to Melissa as he helped her out. She gave him a puzzled expression. "Rats, green volkswagon beetles..." Meg shook her head. Tina blinked, surprised anyone could make that little sense. Melissa, on the other hand, was elated that someone else had a green volkswagon. "There's another one?" She exclaimed happily, bouncing. The valet nodded. "I guess I'm not the only one with such good taste..." The valet snickered quietly and hopped into the car. The three Natpackers bounced into the house, and were greeted by Randora. *These've gotta be Natpackers. No one else bounces like that.* She thought. "Hi! Glad you could make it! Did Natalie come?" The Natpackers shook their heads in unison. Tina held out the brownies. "But we brought these, to help make up for it." "Oooh! More chocolate!" Randora smiled widely. "I'll go put these on a plate, put them out. In the meantime, you go on, have fun!" The three women cheered and ran off into the depths of the Harem's HQ. ************** *The brownies were originally in Eric the DP's possession. They made him believe he was a bunnyrabbit. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 21 22:00:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IMT1-0001rJ-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 21:30:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8121; Sat, 21 Aug 99 21:28:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7883; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 21:28:26 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 20:30:19 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA/CGW: Sacred Cold Wedding Shower (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cc61078c0be0a12103ef8ae1dde9b8db For Heather and Chris: May your life together be every fantasy come true. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NA/CGW: Sacred Cold Bridal Shower by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: MacCousin Heather, Jules, Patt, Nite, KC, Sukh, Christy, RevSam, Jennifer, Tiff, Bons, Ary, CGW Brenda, CGW Pen, Monica, DPLaura, Charl, Glennis, Erik, and Shele, Susan P., Jesse, Caren, Dee and Ivy Fictional Folk: Ted, Kevin, Luke, Roy Roy, the Buff Slave Boy and Egrus Toga Filk by Third Cousin Patt Time: Friday August 20th, Early evening Location: The Temple of Rhubarbarella, Goddess of Pez and Rollerskates (formerly the Vaqs' Church) No impending marriages were harmed in the making of this fanfic. We think. The addicts worked strenuously all Friday morning to prepare for the event, almost harder than when they knew Nunkies was coming for dinner. Jules placed several addicts on scrub duty, hoping to brighten up the sheen of the place, but, other than removing some of KC's graffiti, the church still looked old. The red velvet curtains from Wednesday's dinner were hung once more in order to hide the dull brown walls. Jules was determined to enhance the visual surroundings for the MacCousin's bridal shower. Crates stacked alongside the walls and the cheesey spaceship set just didn't have the exact mood she was looking for. The church, as a result, looked as though one of those spatial, temporal anomalies wars are famous for opened up right in the middle of the church. On one side, all of the necessities to the Temple of Rhubarbarella were collected around the altar, highlighting the statue of KC that stood in the middle. On the other side, in the area that was considered the 'banquet hall' by those prone to generous praise, the layout was much more Roman Palace meets a Peter Greenaway film. (And it's only a matter of time before there *is* a Peter Greenaway film about a Roman Palace.) The High Priestess didn't volunteer any information, but the major consensus among the addicts was that she had managed to procure Nunkies' support for the whole festivity during dinner Wednesday night. The minority, i.e., Christy, Glennis and Dee, were of the firm belief Jules had pilfered Patt's platinum card when she was out walking Fred. Regardless of the means employed, over the course of Friday, most of the pews were pushed back and a flowing fountain appeared in the center of the cleared space. A heavy gold brocade was rolled out over the floor, covering the weathered planks, and a matching divan and two marble columns were installed in a place of honor. The next additions were all botanical: there were potted groves of laurel and holly punctuating the floor space, winding vines of ivy draped over the wall hangings, and white roses, white roses everywhere. The smell was so heady, a few addicts had Nunklear meltdown just on principle. On one table, there were over a dozen crowns of baby's breath stacked in a neat pile. On the divan, the before mentioned place of honor, lay another crown, this one more elaborate, containing the same baby's breath, as well as white heather, and more holly and ivy. To one side, tiered trays had been set up with treats and nibbles: finger sandwiches, cheese straws, fruit and veggies, Baked Lays, dip, Chex mix, glazed almonds, shortbread, and Madame Kiki's $300 Fudge. Behind the table of tidbits, a cauldron of Granny MacIntyre's special cider brewed discreetly. It had taken a bit o' subterfuge, since the cider *was* a family secret, but Sukh had managed to spy out the recipe when Heather wasn't looking. You just couldn't have a shower for the MacCousin without featuring her trademark MacBeverage on the menu. While the cider was blossoming into Something Phenomenal, there was the requisite wet bar to make the thirsty addicts happy. Ted and Kevin had been assigned tending duty, which meant Shele and KC were both steady customers. Shele scored that gallon jug of whisky sours she'd been dreaming about, and KC was causing distress by ordering a constant chain of shot glasses filled with V-8. Ivy, Ary and Jennifer did some profuse browbeating, cursing, and, finally, begging, before KC consented to switch to papaya juice. The number of addicts congregated grew steadily between six and seven o' clock, hinting that the arrival of the guest of honor was nigh. It was a good thing the party activities were almost ready to start, because Shele was becoming a bit tipsy. When your average tipsy person loses their balance, it's no big deal. When a person encased in concrete tips over at the bar, it's loud and damaging. If this was bowling, Shele would have scored a strike on the Bacardi. Nite was also near the bar, having to physically restrain her bot, Egrus Toga, from citing cocktail recipes and pocketing (in a bot-with-no-pockets way) the martini shakers. She was tired before the party ever began. Monica and Tiff were being naughty. (Oh, don't act so surprised!) They couldn't stay away from the 'Pin the Kiss on the Nunkies' game set up, and wouldn't stop testing their aim, even though Jules threatened them with hot waxings. RevSam mingled, listening for a while to Charl's complaints about Marl, the Wonder Horse, who had tried to help prepare her shower gift by eating all the wrapping paper. After some appropriate consolation, the Rev wandered over to the cheesey spaceship set/temple. KC wanted a professional opinion. Laura arrived as the crowd was getting warmed up, carrying her own travel coffee mug and a dark pink and black patterned present. This topped off the mountain of brightly colored packages stacked next to the Divan O' Honor. Her eyes were wide as she exclaimed, "The entire church is Evil Pink! Who did that?" she asked, fearing another renegade slandering her faction's reputation. Even bad reputations needed protection now and then. "Sallie did that," Jesse explained. "We had a hole in the roof, and she started experimenting with Marmite and her blowtorch, and then..." the Fencing Addict let her voice trail away meaningfully. Laura nodded in understanding. "Trust me. I know what it's like to live in a world where it seems strange pink things are always ready to take over the house." "But where *is* Sallie?" Susan wondered. "It's odd to not see her among the party guests." "It makes *perfect* sense," Caren countered. "Jules has learned a few things about the Dragon combined with a room full of presents over the past two Xmases. The High Priestess put her heel down: unless Sallie promised to not steal, horde, or burn the gifts, she couldn't come." "So, where is Sallie?" Susan repeated. "Off on a mission to discover how to remove that pink stuff from the outside of the building." Caren concluded. "It's resistant to water and acetone. Scrubbing Bubbles made it fizzle indignantly, but the Evil Pink Enamel didn't wash away." "I don't think Sallie's going to hit upon the solution until she consults an expert," Jesse said, shaking her head. "Charl promised to share her wealth of cleaning knowledge and Sacred Paper Towels after the party. She was a Die-Hard, you know. Nobody knows cleaning like the Die-Hards." Caren, Susan and Laura all nodded their agreement. It was a true, documented fact: no one had employed more Clorox in a war than the Die-Hard faction. No wonder this war seemed so messy - they weren't playing as a group this time. If Charl couldn't clean up the Evil Pink Enamel, it was simply beyond mortal janitorial powers. Finally, there were squeals and excited whispers when the addicts realized the Celtic Glowworms had arrived. Sukh, Brenda and Pen had the job of escorting the MacCousin to her party, and it looked like they'd taken a taxi (hmm...wonder who drove that cab?), after starting their celebration early at the Fiendish Glow. They were shielding their eyes, not because it was supposed to be a surprise, not because of their natural susceptibility to sunlight, but because the addicts had forgotten to send a Buff Slave Boy over with Snixco Lime-Colored Glasses. The Glowworms simply didn't want to be blinded by the Evil Pink Enamel. The guests all moshed around Heather, offering her congratulations and jokes, until Jules cleared her throat. She took the last of the presents from the Glowworms, then escorted Heather to her divan. Presenting the MacCousin with her headdress, it was only once she was properly bedecked that the rest of the party received their laurels (Kevin and Ted, and even Egrus - Jules was thorough). Once everyone was decked out, Jules produced a brick from behind her back. Jennifer cringed, up until the High Priestess announced, "Let the Games begin!" ******************************************************************** The brick toss took place outside, where there was ample tossin' space. A bean bag chair from the cheesey spaceship set was placed on the other side of the moat, a blown up picture of a chipmunk taped to its front. The addicts started ten meters away, throwing the brick in an attempt to smush the animal. Whoever hit moved on to the next round, where the target moved another five meters further. Those eliminated began to cheer and place bets on their favorites to win. Jules was the only one who didn't compete. There had been a sigh of relief when she made the announcement, because no one wants to brick toss against a KnightGal who's being scouted by the major leagues for her pitching prowess. This still didn't allow for an even playing field, because Shele, rather than be disqualified for her current arms-in-cement handicap, insisted that Ted be allowed to pinch-toss for her. The end result was, while Ted did a superhuman job of tossing, the addicts made a superhuman effort at pinching. This meant most of them couldn't concentrate enough to hit on anything that didn't have pects and a dark beard. The chipmunk remained relatively unscathed, and Shele scored the blue ribbon by default. The next event was the ever-popular 'Pin the Kiss on the Nunkies.' Sukh and Tiff had to literally drag Nite away from the game's pin-up, because she wouldn't end her turn. Again, Shele turned out to be the deciding factor in who won this competition, because, as Ted was aiming her attack, her allergies kicked in from the circlet taped to her plastered head. Shele had a significant sneeze, a 7.4 on the Gesundheit scale. Ted lost his grip on the Poet Laureate during the aftershock, and Shele slammed face first into the wall, punching a hole in the Nunkies poster on impact. Since LC was now missing important physiological features, the addicts decided to call the competition a draw. The time came to pass around the cider, and as the guests drank their jollies, someone suggested a round of limbo. Pen insisted that limbo needed background music to be done properly. No one had access to any Harry Belafonte records at the time, so, instead, Brenda offered up some Tanahill Weavers albums. Ducking under the pole to the beat of 'Johnny Cope' resulted in 'Lymbough': a high-speed, extreme version, where the participants ran head on for the bar, then tried to scramble under it on their stomachs. If they managed to break the bar with their foreheads, they won another turn. Heather and Sukh were the hands-down human champions at Lymbough. They'd psych themselves into a frenzy with war cries and shouting before they took a turn, then they'd fling themselves into the bar, intending to either break it or earn a severe concussion. It probably didn't help that Patt pointed out the poles were stamped 'Made in England.' Beserkers aside, their skill at breaking things with their skulls was no match to the engineered talent of Egrus Toga. Nite's bot was built for zipping under low-hanging objects, and it managed to clear the bar every time without a touch. After Lymbough, Patt stepped in and instructed the guests to take their seats. With a strange expression on her face, she announced that it was time for cake. "Cake?" Pen peered around the decorations. "I don't see a cake." "You will," the Third Cousin promised. "You'll be seeing some cake." The guests hushed as they heard a taped fanfare of horns ring out through the room. One of the red velvet curtains began to move, as though something or someone was moving, maybe struggling, behind it. After about a minute, the curtains drew back to reveal Bons and Jules standing on either size of an enormous cake. It was significantly taller than both of them, coated in a white chocolate glacee and sprigged with candy hearts and unicorns. As Jules and Bons pushed the giant baked good forward, until it was arranged in front of MacHeather's divan, the sound of bagpipes playing the tune 'Danny Boy' began to echo through the church/temple/sanitarium. To the guests' surprise and delight, Cousin Erik burst out of the cake, and began to serenade the MacCousin in a pleasant baritone: "Oh, Heather Girl, The time, the time is coming When single bliss, no more you'll call your own Oh, Heather Girl A brand new day is dawning, A time of changes coming to your home You'll find his hair aside yours on the basin You'll find his shoes and socks upon the bed He'll be sure to leave the toilet lid aloft Oh, Heather Girl, be sure before you wed!" No doubt there were more verses, but some of the Addicts got carried away at the sight of Erik covered in chocolate frosting and fig leaves. It didn't take long before the Nunkamale was forced to leap out of the cake and run for his virtue. There was a good half hour of commotion, chasing, and taste testing before Jules cooled down all the rowdy culprits with a few good douses of the Sacred Cold Supersoaker. The Addicts all reacted like cats jumping off the kitchen counters, hunching their shoulders and settling back in their seats with damp, haughty expressions. After some coaxing and promises of best behavior, Erik re-donned his toga and joined the party. "I told you there'd be cake," Patt told Pen, a punnish twinkle in her eye. "Beefcake." Erik, naturally, groaned. ********************************************************************* Fin for now... Continued in 'A Shower of Blessings and Bleating' Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11INWj-0004DF-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:38:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6152; Sat, 21 Aug 99 22:35:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0830; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:35:26 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:37:08 EDT Reply-To: JavietteV@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Rae Plachecki Subject: WAR: VAQ-Karaoke Party-Everyone Welcome! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 173fce394ad3e5c89d4a4031e7b96e57 Subject: Vaqueros Karaoke Party Time: Saturday Night Participants: The Vaqueros (all of 'em) "Check one two...check one two" Vaq Cliff was standing on stage going through the sound check. Rae, standing back by the bar, gives him a thumbs up and turns to retrieve her drink. "Thanks Michael, " she said as she took a sip, "how does the place look?" Michael gave the bar a slow thorough once over, "P-P-P-P-Pretty goo-goo-goo-good," he says. "Yeah, we worked pretty hard on getting the bar shipshape for the big todo tonight." "Hey Giovanni, ya got that case of rum I ordered for tonight?" Rae shouts to the other end of the bar. "Yes ma'am, it's right here next to a case of my own special brew," Giovanni indicates the two cases with a nod of his head and goes back to polishing some glasses. Over by one of the tables, Rae notes Felicia in a somewhat heated discussion... "Rex!!!!! I don't CARE what you think of your uniform!!! You'll be thankful you're wearing that apron when the first drink gets thrown in your face!!!" Felicia, the easy-going, even-tempered Vaq Second in Command stomps off muttering something about control freaks and overly critical people. "I just think it looks stupid!!" Rex yells at Felicia's retreating back and continues lighting the candles on the tables. *********** The lights are dimmed. "Oooh, aaaah" The Vaqs stand back and admire what all their hard work achieved. "The candles add just the right touch," Echo smiles with satisfaction. "So, are we going to open up or just stand her 'oohing and aaahing'" Teresita asks with a grin. "Who wants the honors?" Rae asks as a dozen hands fly up in the air. "Eenie meenie min... ah heck, I think Felicia has earned the honor. I mean she's worked so hard, and this being her first war and all, she deserves some recognition." The Vaqs all agree that Felicia has lead them well and deserves the honor. Felicia, with a smile on her face and a tear in her eye at the recognition of all her efforts, strides to the door and with great flourish, flips the switch. *OPEN* *OPEN* *OPEN* The neon sign announces the opening of the Pitted Peach for business. "Hmmm..." Tammy ponders, "I wonder if anyone will show up?" ********* The End Come One Come All, the bar is open!!!!!! Rae JavietteV@aol.com From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11INnD-0007W4-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:55:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6239; Sat, 21 Aug 99 22:51:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1978; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:51:58 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 21:56:45 -0500 Reply-To: anniebug@worldnet.att.net Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annie Raper Subject: WAR: NA: A Shower of Blessings and Bleatings 02/03 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b868955819441f3b155dd527a8a81319 NA: A Shower of Blessings and Bleatings 02/03 Sewn together by Patt Elmore with snips from all the participants When: early Friday Evening, August 20, 1999 Where: The NA Sanctum, formerly Vachon's Church Why: Heather's bridal shower Permission obtained from everyone mentioned ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Kitchen implements always make nice gifts," Jules nodded as she passed the Snixco combination peach pitter and yogurt squirter to Patt. "They make life more convenient, giving one time to enjoy the finer things. Why not open my gift next?" Jules pointed toward an expensively wrapped package bearing the trademark of a famous gourmet food establishment. The MacCousin opened the gift carefully, then, once the item was identified, glowed with delight. "Haggis!!" Heather exclaimed, lifting the bag so everyone could better view it. "This will go on the feast table in November, when we celebrate Saint Andrew's. Thank you so much, Jules." Jules nodded, pleased that she had pleased the MacCousin. Egrus Toga stirred into motion, heading toward Heather. Once he arrived in front of her, he popped his lid and shot a present into the MacCousin's lap. "Oh . . . thanks, Toga," Heather said, picking up the tiny present. "This is so nice of you." "'And the just pleasure lost which is so deem'd, Not by our feelings but by others' seeing,'" Egrus bleeped. Then he casually rolled back to Nite's side. Heather opened the gift, then grinned at the tiny bot. "Cute," she remarked, holding up a tie-dyed beanie bat wearing a black toga. Attached to the stuffed bat's toga was a little stick pin drill. "Nice touch, Nite," Heather continued to smile as she accepted another present from Bons. "That's the *real* gift," Nite pointed out as Heather began to tear at the paper. The MacCousin opened the exclusive box inside and lifted out a black silk teddy with little white velvet roses and a matching robe. Heather blushed while the women hooted and Erik whistled. "Well, mine is along the same lines," Monica said when Heather began opening the Luscious Lucius Lover's package. At Monica's announcement, Heather's anticipation became more apparent, and she tore into the paper and box with relish. Eyebrow quirked questioningly, Heather pulled out a shank of flannel. "It's a really old-lady-like pajama/nightgown," Monica explained. "For those just-say-no nights!!" The dark-haired addict grinned evilly. Several addicts *boo-ed* the gift, then broke into tittering laughter. Erik almost stood up and excused himself, but Monica caught his arm, requesting him to stay. "It's really for those really cold nights when you're out camping at Ren Faire events," the addict said. "Just remember, Mrs. Rob Roy had no problem lifting her heavy skirt, when the mood was right." Monica winked at Erik, who turned bright red. "I guess you can open my gift next," Patt suggested, indicating a small jewelry box on the table. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it." "Self-deprecating as always, Patt?" Heather smiled as she opened the little box. She reached in and lifted up a small pendent on a silver chain. The charm was silver, with odd gold etchings. "I thought it looked kind of like a rune," Patt explained, shrugging. "Figured it would fit in with your other Celtic stuff." "This looks familiar," Heather said, examining the pendent closely. She looked over at Monica. "Don't you have one like this?" Monica shook her head. "Nope, I lost mine." Erik looked closely at the object. "Looks like the one that Ary gave me." He began patting his pockets, trying to remember where he'd placed it, while Arymede gave the young man a sullen look. "Hmmmm," Jules said, extending a hand for the necklace. "Let me take a look at it." But, before Jules could claim the prize, Heather began to titter. The MacCousin reached into the tiny jewelry box, lifted out a handful of filler and gently allowed the blue shreds to fall from her fingers, back into the carton. "A whole box of appropriately sized blue ribbons, perfect for . . . tieing. Thanks, Patt. I'm sure I'll use *these.*" Heather dropped the element back into the box and placed it on top of the other gifts. "I wonder who this is from," Bons said, picking up a gift wrapped in dark pink/black tartan paper. The Scribe shook the present, while giving Laura G. a wicked grin. "How come you've been hanging out so much with us lately, Laura?" Patt asked her old beer buddy. "Have you finally decided that pink might not be your color?" "No, no," Laura laughed. "Nothing like that. I'm still quite pink, thank you very much." "These are too kewl, Laura." Heather looked up from her new CD collection of *Bagpipes in Toronto: Filking the Blues.* "I can listen to them on my computer." Shele suddenly became rather animated, or as animated as a body cast can become. "Mmmf pm gmpt, MkKmmn! M mmum mm mmnmy mt! Mmd? MMD!?!?" With that last shout, Ted stepped out from behind the plastered Poet and handed MacCousin her gift. Although he'd watched her open many gifts already, he hoped against hope that she'd be distracted by something else and forget to open this one. He considered disrobing, but thought it would be a little uncouth at a Bridal Shower, and he didn't want to upstage Erik's already sterling performance. Ted tried blocking the Poet's view, but that ruse didn't last long. He sighed. It wasn't his fault he hadn't had time to do a proper shopping. Fetching this, carting that. Writing that 'poetry' on the walls for the boss-woman. He did what he could and bought what he bought -- no use crying about it, right? Besides, everybody could use an extra phone, right? And yellow, yellow's a happy color.... Nothing could go wrong, right? Heather opened the package, blinked twice, then shrieked. Box and communication device went flying across the church, landing somewhere among the rafters, spooking several roosting pigeons. "ACK, ACK,ACK!!" Bonnie dove for cover, choosing to hide under a beaten up, rather smelly sofa. She quickly discovered she had company--a large gray rat sniffed at the Scribe's nose. "You, I'm not afraid of," Bons said, poking the rat's tummy. "I've played enough with rodents in lab class to not be squeamish. Pigeons, on the other hand, are evil. I can't stand flapping." "Birdies are all gone now," Patt said, returning to the little circle, her shooing broom still in her hand. "You can come out now, Bons." The Scribe's voice was muffled. "Why should I trust you, Patt? You're a rehabber, which means that you're for the birds." "Then trust me," Jules intoned in her most commanding tone. "The pigeons have left the coop, Bonnie. Please return to the festivities." "I need a little more coaxing here," Bons replied. Patt took Bons' place at the gift handing position. She picked up a rather large box which clinked when she lifted it. "I'm gonna let Heather open her *special* gift next, Bons." The Scribe poked her head out from under the sofa. "But that's supposed to be last," Bons whined. "Leave your post, and the posting order changes," Patt replied, handing the gift to Heather. The Third Cousin gave the MacCousin a meaningful look. "This one is from LaCroix." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 02/03 patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11INnJ-0004ns-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:55:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9749; Sat, 21 Aug 99 22:53:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2136; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:53:29 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 21:58:12 -0500 Reply-To: anniebug@worldnet.att.net Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annie Raper Subject: WAR: NA: A Shower of Blessings and Bleating 01/03 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d8697619ebde622f6d3df5c423bd2c22 NA: A Shower of Blessings and Bleating 01/03 Sewn together by Patt Elmore with snips from all the participants When: early Friday evening, August 20, 1999 Where: The NA Sanctum, formerly Vachon's Church Why: Heather's bridal shower Follows: NA: Sacred Cold Bridal Shower Permission obtained from everyone mentioned ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It had been a good day. Patt smiled as she looked around the room of beaming addicts and friends, all gathered to pay homage to the end of the MacCousin's single state. Patt caught Caren's eye, and both smiled, remembering the wonderful adventure they'd shared earlier in the day. Along with Jesse and Allie, Patt and Caren had gone diving with the FoD's, getting a chance to explore a wrecked schooner which had gone down in the early 1900's. This had been Patt's first dive and, though apprehensive about getting her bulk into a wetsuit, she was so glad that Kathy had invited her along. She had met the Schanke-factioner through e-mail correspondence, and the two had began to communicate frequently. A cement enclosed Shele, and her beau, Ted, had gone along also. Although Shele had been unable to dive (or even anchor), she had managed to get some sun and her ear was now a bright shade of orange. "Time for presents!" an addict cried, bringing Patt out of her reverie. She watched as the addicts gathered around McHeather, jockeying for the best seat to watch the gift unwrapping. One addict took up a tablet to jot down names for the *thank you* notes. Bons took command of handing Heather the boon. "Well, since I'm here, I might as well go first," Bons said, reaching for a brightly colored package. "Here." The MacCousin tore open the box and lifted out the contents: a set of Simpsons dolls and a MacIntyre silk chemise. The crowd of women "oooooood" and "ahhhhhhhd." "I love the Simpsons," Jesse nodded. "Next!" "I got this for you, Heather. I hope you like it," Jennifer said, motioning Luke forward. The ex-vampire was respledant in his black, tailed coat. He bowed slightly to MacCousin Heather as she took the silver-wrapped box from him. Jennifer fidgeted with the skirt of her burgundy dress in a display of true teen unease as Heather opened the present. She watched as Heather pulled the plaid microwave from the box. Secured with a silver ribbon to the black handle of the microwave door was a small envelope. Heather untied the ribbon and pulled the contents from the envelope. "To MacCousin Heather," she read, "May your marriage bring you joy, and may Nunkies bless your home. Sincerely, Jennifer." She smiled at the younger Addict. "That's so sweet, Jennifer. Thank you." Jennifer fidgeted with her skirt some more, and said softly, "There's another present in the envelope, too. It's, well, it's from Guinivere, Patoot, and Coup. They usually help me with this kind of stuff." MacCousin Heather smiled and pulled the small piece of paper from the envelope. On it was a picture of a man in full Celtic regalia set against a green background. "A ticket for a chance to win a trip to Scotland!!!" Heather exclaimed. "Thank you!!!" She hugged the teen addict and said, "That's for your pets, too." Jennifer blushed. She always felt awkward at these things, no matter how many she went to. Luke saved her by saying, "I'm sure they'll appreciate it." "This one is from RevSam," Bonnie exclaimed, handing the package to Heather. RevSam was trying very hard not to bounce--after all, it was *undignified*. But the look on the MacCousin's face almost overrode the resolution. The paper wrapping the box had been simple white, with a gold bow. But inside: the two piece pin & loop cloak fastener was a delight. The pin was crafted to look like Nunkies' own stickpin, while the loop looked liked a wreath of leaves, all made out of a strong bronze. RevSam managed, *just*, not to bounce when Heather exclaimed in pleasure. The addicts murmured in approval as RevSam's gift was passed around. Jesse tried to slip it into her pocket, but Supaige slapped her hand. The next present opened was Erik's. Heather reached into the large box and began pulling out pieces of heavy duty, siding- grade plastic. Each was notched and appeared to be ready to put together in a particular fashion. The MacCousin kept a confused look on her face until she pulled out the last item in the box--the instructions. "This is actually a present for Chris," Erik explained as Heather read the sheet of paper. She looked up, her eyes twinkling. "It's a Dog House," Heather laughed aloud, waving the instructions. The women all began applauding with gusto, while Erik stood up and took a bow. "Next, next," several addicts cried out, pointing to the gifts they had brought. Bonnie selected a gift bag and held it aloft. "That's from me," Ivy announced as Heather began moving tissue asside. "I hope you like it." "I'm sure I will," Heather smiled. She quickly extracted a lovely set of pink satin bedlinens, with small white rosebuds embroidered in them. "Oh, these are lovely." "Happy Nunkies dreams," Ivy said. "And Chris, too," Erik reminded the women. "And Chris, too," the women agreed. "Kind of nice to have a man around when you do these kind of things, isn't it?" Supaige pointed out. "Yep," Sukh said, reaching over to swipe a bit of leftover frosting off Erik's upper arm. "Helps a lady keep things in perspective." She popped the frosting into her mouth and fluttered her eyelashes at the NunkaMale. Bons picked up another gift and hefted it. "Small and sturdy," the Scribe quipped. "Kind of like me." She handed the gift to Heather, who read the attached card, smiled at Tiff and then quickly opened the box. "It's an Official Legion-Knaires d' LaCroix electric can-opener!" Tiff exclaimed. "The Legion-Knaires d' LaCroix is the name of a non-existant ska/punk cover band my friends and I formed. We've never had a rehearsal, but we've got an obscene amount of merchandise! Hehehehehehe." "And you think your 'Legion" might be competition for Snixco?" KC challenged. "Never, for as long as I live. Bwhahahahahahahahahahahaha." As Heather put away Tiff's exciting and fabulous gift, KC started bouncing up and down on her divan like a toddler after twelve ding dongs, her laurel wreath almost coming off her head. "Me next! Me next!" she chirped. "Okay, already!" Bons groaned like an exasperated day care worker. She handed the CIP a shiny silver basket dotted here and there with gold glitter duckies and a big red bow on the handle. "Hmm. . . I can only imagine what this could be," Heather gave the Evilkin a knowing look. KC managed to look insulted. "What do you expect? A loaded mousetrap? How about Three Stooges!" she huffed. "You're right. Innocent until proven and all that," Heather said, a bit warily. She ripped through the spangled paper covering the top of the basket and gave an appreciative gasp. "Why, these gifts are actually good!" the MacCousin said in sheer amazement. KC smiled in pure smugness. "Of course! Only the best from your friends at Snixco!" Heather pulled out the first gift in the basket, a Snixco Chia Nunkies. It was a beautifully hand-crafted bust of Nunkies, sans his trademark buzzcut. One had to grow a Chia buzzcut from Nunkies' head. "Ooh!" Heather cooed. "Just like the one we put in the Vaq bathroom. I can set this up in Chris and my bedroom window and look at Nunkies every night before I go to bed! Thanks!" KC bounced on the divan, almost leaning into the basket. "There's a couple more things in there!" Heather pulled out the second item, a Snixco combination peach pitter and yogurt squirter. The MacCousin was sufficiently impressed. "I can use this when I'm making recipes from the Jeweled Peach book!" Heather nearly burst out of her toga in delight. "Yeah, and there's an in-the-skin tomato scrambler attachment included!" KC beamed. Heather pulled out the third and final item in the basket, unmarked videotape. "Oh, lost FK episodes?" Heather guessed. KC shook her head in mischievous glee. "Nope, it's the outtakes from the Pamela and Tommy Lee tape!" KC was obviously proud of such a find. "Hours of comedy delight! Or at least you can tape 'Ashes to Ashes' over it!" Heather brightened considerably at the suggestion. "You're right! Thanks, KC!" "Always happy to please!" Snix said proudly. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 01/03 patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:45 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11INoA-0007Xy-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:56:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6278; Sat, 21 Aug 99 22:54:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2239; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:54:23 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 21:59:07 -0500 Reply-To: anniebug@worldnet.att.net Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annie Raper Subject: WAR: NA: A Shower of Blessings and Bleating 03/03 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4d6bab72c184eefcb47e75e3bd270d68 NA: A Shower of Blessings and Bleatings 03/03 Sewn together by Patt Elmore with snips from all the participants When: Early Friday evening, August 20, 1999 Where: The NA Sanctum, formerly Vachon's Church Why: Heather's bridal shower Permission obtained from everyone mentioned ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A reverent hush came over the room as Heather received the gift sent to her by Nunkies. "WAHHHH!" Bonnie cried from under the sofa. "T'aint fair. Wait until a girl is overtaken with feather phobia and *then* pull out Uncle's gift. Poo on all of you." The petite Scribe crossed her arms and dropped her chin on them with a loud "Hummppffff." Heather, hands poised to delicately undo the gilded bow, paused. "The pigeons have landed," Jules pointed out dryly. "If the Scribe wants to remain in her own personal *bomb* shelter, that's her decision, not our problem. Heather, continue." The MacCousin eagerly restarted her unwrapping. "WAHHHHH!" Bonnie cried again. When no one paid her any mind, the Scribe shrugged and began extricating herself from under the couch. She was just standing up when Heather lifted the lid off LaCroix's present. Heather's eyes grew wide as she stared into the open box. "Oh . . . Oh, my!" The addicts strained to see, pushing forward, gouging some and poking others. "What's in the box?" "What did LaCroix give you?" "Heather, are you okay??" Blinking, the MacCousin looked around at her guests. "I . . . I . . . I'm okay. It's just a very . . . unexpected gift." Heather reached into the box and withdrew an ornate, but tasteful, card. She opened it and began to read. "What does it say?" Speechless, Heather handed the card to Patt, who read it, glanced quickly into the box to confirm, then grinned with delight. "'My dear MacCousin Heather,'" Patt read, deepening her voice slightly. "Just read the card, Patt. Leave the monologues to Nunkies," Jules ordered. Patt looked a bit miffed, but continued reading in her normal tone of voice. "'My dear MacCousin Heather. In honor of your upcoming nuptials, and your continued allegiance to me, I bequest upon you a most precious gift, one which harkens to my earliest days, and heralded prosperity to my coffers. May your marriage be as cheerful as its song, and as fertile as its promise.~~LaCroix.'" The MacCousin was blushing mightily as Patt finished reading the card. Patt turned to her and grinned, "Want me to hold them up." "NO!" Heather cried, slamming the lid down on the box. "They're . . . private." "Come on, Heather," Bonnie said tartly. "We *all* have windchimes hanging all over the place." "Not like these," Heather said, clutching the box to her chest. "These are made to certain . . . specifications, and they're . . . plaid." The addicts began chortling. Bonnie resumed her place as gift passer outer, giving the Third Cousin a friendly shove back to her former seating place. "Well, how do you follow Nunkies?" Bonnie said, picking over the gifts. She looked up at the assembled women. "Any volunteers?" "I guess Heather can open mine next," Supaige offered. "It's the white package with the peach bow." "They're *all* white packages with peach bows," Bonnie said sternly. Which one?" Supaige pointed to one, and Bons handed the package to Heather. "Oh, thank you, Supaige," Heather said, lifting out a set of matched and monogrammed peach-colored His 'n Hers bath towels. She then pulled out another kitchen implement--the writing on the packing box proclaiming it to be the HaggisMaster 2000 speed cooker (perfect haggis in 10 minutes flat). "It kind of goes with Jules' gift," Supaige explained. "I figure you can make your own, once you eat up the gourmet one." "That's wonderfully thoughtful, Supaige," Heather smiled. "I'm looking forward to Chris improving his culinary skills, and this will be a great help." "And, here's something to serve the food on," Caren said, pushing another present forward. Once opened, the gift proved to be a starter set of china featuring a thistle and shamrock pattern. "I guess you can hand mine to Heather next," Sukh said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. Sukh reached out and gave Roy, Roy the Buff Slave Boy a little coaxing pat on the back, and the hunk moved forward carrying a huge basket. Roy, Roy dropped to his knees in front of the MacCousin, offering the gift in a gesture reminiscent of any slave offering a gift to his queen. Heather accepted the item with extreme grace, then shot a knowing look at Sukh. As Heather opened the basket and began pulling out items, the addicts alternately snickered and sighed. The contents of Sukh's gift basket included one large hand-blown cobalt blue bottle of hand-mixed massage oil (sandalwood, Ylang-Ylang, Germanium in a carrier of almond oil), two smaller tubes of peaches and cream, heat when you blow in it, flavored oil. One dozen votives in clear cups, scented candles (2 of sandalwood, 2 amber, 2 patchouli, 2 Jasmine, 2 Queen of the Night, 2 White rose) 12 sticks of assorted incense and a Celtic knotwork designed silver incense burner. It also contained two monogrammed terry robes (1 for Heather, 1 for Chris under initials a small Celtic knotwork of a pattern for love), one peacock feather, and a book on sensual massage. "My goodness," Monica said as Heather began to repack the contents of the basket. "She and Chris will never leave the bed and bath." "Like that's news?" Nite said. "What I really want to know is where Sukh got *that* big a basket!" "You should be good for vacation trips," Charl said, stepping forward and handing the MacCousin an envelope. Heather quickly opened it and pulled out two tickets for a tour of the Green Linnet Studios, a recording company specializing in Celtic music. "This is wonderful," Heather exclaimed, holding the tickets tightly. "Chris is going to be so pleased." Bonnie picked up another smaller package, and handed it to Heather. "That's from me," Ary spoke up. The Sherwood Nunksister smiled as the MacCousin lifted a pair of tartan covered handcuffs out of the box. The other guests snickered, and Heather again turned pink. "Looks like Ary and I had the same idea," Jesse said as Bonnie handed the MacCousin a large, flat box. "We both gave armaments. The difference is, Ary gave offense and I gave defense." "OH!" Heather exclaimed, pulling the large oblong item out of the box. She turned it around so everyone could see. "It's a bronze shield," Jesse pointed out the obvious, "with Celtic knots and garnets." "Most impressive, my little Jedi." Patt nodded in approval. Heather opened one gift, with no one speaking up to identify the giver. Inside was a CD-Rom of 'Brave Heart, the Game.' "Okay," Heather arched an eyebrow and fingered the CD jewel case. "Who's Chris been talking to?" "I don't know," Caren said, catching up the CD as Heather tossed it. "But, I sure wouldn't mind snitching the 'full-size' poster inside." MacCousin Heather snatched the CD back, and added it to her pile of presents. "On second thought . . . this might be a *perfect* gift." "I guess its down to us, then, isn't it?" Glennis, Christy and Dee had been anxiously waiting until the end to place their present on the gift table. Glennis and Christy exchanged knowing grins with Dee, who moved in the hallway, ready to present the most important portion of their joint gift. Oh sure, the MacCousin had received some great gifts so far, but they were certain that theirs was the best, the most useful and the most likely to be truly appreciated. As Heather opened the package in her lap, they waited with bated breath. "Well, well," said the MacCousin, holding up the box for all to see. "A 'Do-It-Yourself Kilt Kit' from Glennis, Dee and Christy. How very thoughtful." There were the appropriate "ooohs" and "aaahs" from the crowd as Heather smiled and began opening the box. Out came a book entitled, "Loom Construction for Dummies," a varied assortment of carding and spinning materials, and a pair of sheep shears. Heather's smile dimmed a bit, and her expression changed from charmed to puzzled. "Um...and what exactly would I be needing sheep shears for?" she said with just a touch of concern in her voice. You see, being an addict herself, Heather was familiar with an addict's somewhat skewed sense of propriety--not to mention reality--and she felt a certain sense of foreboding. "For these!" came a voice from the hall. Dee entered the room herding three sheep before her with a shepherd's crook painted in the MacIntyre tartan, a broad smile on her face. A collective gasp swept the room as the animals entered. Ah yes, they were sheep, all right, but these were sheep with a difference: one was red, one was blue, and one was green. "I...ah..uh..ack..oh my," articulated the MacCousin, her eyes wide. "Baaa," replied the sheep. The Three Nunketeers grinned happily at one another as they observed the tongue-tied woman's obvious surprise. The blue sheep ambled over and began helping itself to the Chex Mix . Its two bright and shiny brethren began investigating the plates of various shower guests in hope of getting a handout. "We knew you'd be speechless with delight," beamed Glennis. "They've been genetically altered to produce coats in the colors of your tartan. They'll make great pets, and they'll provide you with any number of kilts, blankets, sweaters...anything you can imagine." "And you'll never, ever have to mow the lawn!" Christy chimed in. Suddenly, Ted jumped up. "Hey, that thing bit me!" Glaring at the offending red creature, he shouted and flapped his arms at it, "Out of here! Go on! Out!" Frightened by the commotion, the wide-eyed skein-of-red-yarn-on-the-hoof bleated and took off. The blue sheep, which had been nuzzling among Heather's gifts, bawled in confusion and bolted after its herdmate. The green sheep, being the great follower that sheep are, pelted pell mell after his fellows. Unfortunately, sheep, though quite adept at playing Follow the Leader, tend to be rather clumsy creatures. Tables, chairs, gifts, decorations and party guests flew about the room as the panicked mutton wannabes attempted to find an escape route. The ensuing crashes of falling objects and screams of addicts and Glowworms alike only made the sheep more frantic to leave this frightening mass of humanity as far behind as possible. Finally finding the door, they dashed from the room and through the crumbling church in a multicolored blur, leaving chaos in their wake. The shower guests pursued them, attempting a sheep round-up. Patt rose from straightening a fallen lamp, and reached over to right some of the MacCousin's gift boxes. She picked up the jewelry case, which was now filled only with blue ribbons. The element necklace was gone. Wide-eyed and thinking dreadful thoughts, Patt watched as the addicts continued chasing the sheep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The end 03/03 patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11INp3-0007ZT-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:57:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6281; Sat, 21 Aug 99 22:55:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2279; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:55:16 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 19:57:19 -0700 Reply-To: Lauren Hawes Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lauren Hawes Subject: WAR: UF: Bring Out Yer Victuals To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 617a0c41db4545306fb6cccdeddc4d11 WAR: UF: Bring Out Yer Victuals By: Lauren Hawes, Leslie GrantSmith, Julia Kocich Setting: The Hive, UF HQ Time: Friday morning, August 20th ***** Lauren had told the UF shopping brigade to be ready at 8 am sharp. At 8:15, only she and Amie stood waiting in the foyer of the Hive. Both women had been up for hours, inventorying the kitchen equipment and putting together a detailed list of the ingredients that were needed for Sunday=92s medieval feast for Nick and the Knighties at his loft. By 8.30 am, Les and Julia had arrived. =93Cubeb. Cloves. Marzipan ...=94 Amie said by way of a greeting,=20 running over the necessities one final time. At 8.45, Laurey wandered into the room, sipping from a steaming=20 cup of coffee. =93I=92m ready, let=92s go,=94 she said in a chipper voice. Everyone glared at her while Debi ran down the stairs to join the group. "How many cars are we taking?=94 Julia asked. =93Parking in Toronto's=20 not much better than in NY." "Let's take that FedEx van Dru left here. FedEx vans are *always*=20 being ticketed but I've never seen one towed, yet," Lauren replied. "Hmm. O-kay ... it's your show. I just hope it doesn't dematerialize at the moment we're ready to schlep everything back here," Julia responded, passive-aggressively. =93Hartshorn, sandalwood, saffron, gold leaf, almonds, grains of=20 paradise =85=94 Amie continued to recite as the UFfers walked out=20 to the driveway. ~~~~~ =93So where do we find all these ingredients?=94 Debi asked in her=20 Cockney accent as the Fed-Ex van rattled along towards=20 downtown Toronto. =93I saw that menu =96 there=92s a lot of strange=20 stuff there.=94 She glanced quickly at Amie, who appeared to be=20 meditating, leaning back against the interior wall. She had a pencil behind each ear and her dark red hair was pulled back with a piece of kitchen twine. =93Eels. Galingale. And the, uh, peacock.=94 The UFfers went silent. "Dirty words" was not a concept that much concerned the Unnamed Faction, which tended to believe that=20 inaccuracy was more of a sin than explicitness. But after the=20 authentic recipe had been included in the menu as the Second=20 Soteltye, "peacock" had come close to becoming A Dirty Word=20 in the Hive. It had taken long and exhaustingly pedantic discussion (some might say cajoling) to convince Shan that ... a tofu peacock would *not* be an acceptable substitute.=20 Shan was last seen, sulking in the garden, talking to the bees. =93Is she really going to roast a peacock?=94 Les whispered to Laurey. =93Maybe they don=92t sell them here,=94 Laurey replied hopefully. True to her word, Lauren double-parked in front of the St. Lawrence Market, a spacious Toronto landmark filled with individual vendors offering every conceivable foodstuff. Lauren lined the UFfers up beside the van. =93Ok, guys, I=92ve taken the liberty of making out lists.=94 The curly haired martinet obviously felt that without an accurate method of gauging individual shopping acumen, it was best not to take any chances. Lauren began to hand out envelopes, each containing a neatly typed list and a large amount of Canadian currency in a thoughtful array of denominations. =93Julia, you=92re in charge of procuring the cheesy comestibles. And=20 the wines. Amie has already arranged for the bakery to deliver the bread Saturday morning, so don=92t worry about that.=94 =93Les, Debi?=94 The two Uffers stepped forward. =93You=92ve got fruits and vegetables, fresh and dried. Since Laurey=92s dog scarfed the=20 pomegranates I brought with me from California, you=92ll have to find some more. Questions?=94 Les and Debi hurriedly studied their assignment while Laurey stared intently at the wrought iron canopy that spanned the entrance to the market. =93Pomegranates ... how appropriate, for a War.=94 =93Is a caboge like lettuce?" =93We=92re going to eat =85 roses?=94 For the first time, Amie spoke up. =93It=92s for my sauce. For the Rosee of Hennys. Get a couple dozen red ones. They have to steep in the almond milk." =93Laurey =96 charcuterie, herbs, and pickled items.=94 Lauren ordered.=20 =93And you can help Amie with anything else she needs.=94 =93What are you going to get?=94 Debi ventured. =93I=92m going to get the, um, Soteltyes. Now we meet back here at one for lunch.=94 Lauren fixed them all with a dazzling smile. ~~~~~ At the fishmonger Lauren waited impatiently while the couple ahead of her discussed their evening meal. =93Lady, you=92re next. How about a nice sea bass today?=94 The man=20 gestured towards his impressive display of freshly caught fish, artfully arranged on beds of gleaming ice. Behind him a huge glass tank contained the live portion of his wares. =93Eels. Gonna need a lot of eels, dude.=94 =93Lemme get my net.=94 ~~~~~ Les stared at her list. "Wardonys =85? Debi, do you have klew one=20 what a wardonys is? Or is it an =91is=92? Could it be an =91are=92? One wardony, two or more wardonys =85 ?" Debi grinned. "*I* did my home-work." She whipped a piece of paper from her back pocket and unfolded it. Reading it, she announced, "Wardonys equals pears." "Really!?" Les exclaimed. "What luck! I know what pears look like. Bosc or Anjou?" "Uh," said Debi, staring hard at the piece of paper. "It doesn=92t say." "Well, let=92s get Anjou. It sounds more French, yeah?" "Do we want French?" "Most of the French I know, I learned watching Forever Knight. We *must* want French." "Your logic is impeccable." "It usually is. That doesn=92t seem to keep me out of trouble for some reason though." "Logic frequently has very little to do with Real Life, Les." "Yeah?" "Yeah. Oh, look, the wardonys! You get those; I=92ll look for the caboges and the spynoch." ~~~~~ Some time later, Leslie and Debi, laden with shopping bags, ran into Lauren, who was deep in whispered conversation with a teenaged butcher. She shook her head, disappointed, and turned away to see her friends. =93Haven=92t you bought anything?=94 Debi=92s voice was muffled by the large bunches of spinach that stuck out of the bags she clutched to her chest. =93Oh, yea. I=92m good. The second Soteltye looks to be a little scarce though. Bummer.=94 =93Where are your packages?=94 Debi=92s arms were starting to hurt. Lauren gestured towards Weasel and Refrigerator, who sat some=20 distance away on a bench. Four large plastic pails rested at their feet and several boxes tied with string were piled next to them. =93Where=92d they come from?!=94 "I called Don Constantine and asked if he could send them over.=94=20 Lauren misunderstood the expression on Leslie=92s face. =93I=92m not going to carry that stuff. In these heels?=94 =93You =85 called =85 Don Con?=94 Les was impressed. Arranging for eel=20 porters during a War called for a degree of organization that Les=20 could only admire. The 3 UFfers went to find their comrades, as Weasel and=20 Refrigerator trailed behind, struggling with the heavy buckets of=20 water. Despite the lids, water sloshed onto their pant legs. Lauren was not looking forward to telling Amie about her inability to procure a peacock. ~~~~~ Back at the Hive, Lauren paced up and down in the driveway as=20 Weasel and Refrigerator, stone-faced, made repeated trips from=20 the van to the kitchen, carrying the pails =85 boxes of fruit =85 wine bottles =85 shopping bags =85 baskets =85 cartons of vegetables.=20 Amie stood dejectedly by the front door. =93I can=92t change the menu now.=94 Amie was close to tears. =93What are= =20 we going to do?=94 Lauren understood Amie=92s desperation. There was *nothing* worse=20 than not being able to find a key ingredient for a dinner party, except (she could hardly bring herself to think it) a last minute cancellation. =93Don=92t worry Amie, I=92ve got an idea.=94 ~~~~~ At twilight, Lauren, dressed in black, came down the stairs and=20 stood in the foyer for a moment, considering. =93Yo, Laurey!=94 She shouted back up the stairs. =93Can I borrow your=20 car?=94 Lauren waited a fraction of a second. =93Thanks! Got the keys!=94 She plucked the Porsche keys from the jumbled pile of items thrown on the marble-topped credenza and quickly left. =93Whhaa =85t?=94 Laurey=92s voiced floated downstairs from the library,=20 where UFfers were restoring their reading room after the RatPack's visit. Julia, standing at the kitchen window while Amie and Debi put=20 away the last of the food, watched as Lauren went to the front of the little silver car. She opened the hood, produced a tape measure from her jacket pocket and stood staring thoughtfully into its interior. =93What=92s Lauren doing?=94 Debi had come up behind Julia. =93She appears to be measuring the trunk space of Laurey=92s car.=94 At that moment, Shan rushed into the kitchen and cried breathlessly, =93Hey! Did Lauren leave already? She said I could go to the zoo with her!=94 *The End* From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IO08-0005DY-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:08:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6467; Sat, 21 Aug 99 23:05:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4230; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:05:14 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:07:01 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: UF: Bring Out Yer Victuals -- REPOST To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 58185fe9af606f44dd5507c105a9c582 WAR: UF: Bring Out Yer Victuals By: Lauren Hawes, Leslie GrantSmith, Julia Kocich Setting: The Hive, UF HQ Time: Friday morning, August 20th ***** Lauren had told the UF shopping brigade to be ready at 8 am sharp. At 8:15, only she and Amie stood waiting in the foyer of the Hive. Both women had been up for hours, inventorying the kitchen equipment and putting together a detailed list of the ingredients that were needed for Sunday s medieval feast for Nick and the Nighties at his loft. By 8.30 am, Les and Julia had arrived. Cubeb. Cloves. Marzipan ... Amie said by way of a greeting, running over the necessities one final time. At 8.45, Laurey wandered into the room, sipping from a steaming cup of coffee. I m ready, let s go, she said in a chipper voice. Everyone glared at her while Debi ran down the stairs to join the group. "How many cars are we taking? Julia asked. Parking in Toronto's not much better than in NY." "Let's take that FedEx van Dru left here. FedEx vans are *always* being ticketed but I've never seen one towed, yet," Lauren replied. "Hmm. O-kay ... it's your show. I just hope it doesn't dematerialize at the moment we're ready to schlep everything back here," Julia responded, passive-aggressively. Hartshorn, sandalwood, saffron, gold leaf, almonds, grains of paradise Amie continued to recite as the UFfers walked out to the driveway. ~~~~~ So where do we find all these ingredients? Debi asked in her Cockney accent as the Fed-Ex van rattled along towards downtown Toronto. I saw that menu there s a lot of strange stuff there. She glanced quickly at Amie, who appeared to be meditating, leaning back against the interior wall. She had a pencil behind each ear and her dark red hair was pulled back with a piece of kitchen twine. Eels. Galingale. And the, uh, peacock. The UFfers went silent. "Dirty words" was not a concept that much concerned the Unnamed Faction, which tended to believe that inaccuracy was more of a sin than explicitness. But after the authentic recipe had been included in the menu as the Second Soteltye, "peacock" had come close to becoming A Dirty Word in the Hive. It had taken long and exhaustingly pedantic discussion (some might say cajoling) to convince Shan that ... a tofu peacock would *not* be an acceptable substitute. Shan was last seen, sulking in the garden, talking to the bees. Is she really going to roast a peacock? Les whispered to Laurey. Maybe they don t sell them here, Laurey replied hopefully. True to her word, Lauren double-parked in front of the St. Lawrence Market, a spacious Toronto landmark filled with individual vendors offering every conceivable foodstuff. Lauren lined the UFfers up beside the van. Ok, guys, I ve taken the liberty of making out lists. The curly haired martinet obviously felt that without an accurate method of gauging individual shopping acumen, it was best not to take any chances. Lauren began to hand out envelopes, each containing a neatly typed list and a large amount of Canadian currency in a thoughtful array of denominations. Julia, you re in charge of procuring the cheesy comestibles. And the wines. Amie has already arranged for the bakery to deliver the bread Saturday morning, so don t worry about that. Les, Debi? The two Uffers stepped forward. You ve got fruits and vegetables, fresh and dried. Since Laurey s dog scarfed the pomegranates I brought with me from California, you ll have to find some more. Questions? Les and Debi hurriedly studied their assignment while Laurey stared intently at the wrought iron canopy that spanned the entrance to the market. Pomegranates ... how appropriate, for a War. Is a caboge like lettuce?" We re going to eat roses? For the first time, Amie spoke up. It s for my sauce. For the Rosee of Hennys. Get a couple dozen red ones. They have to steep in the almond milk." Laurey charcuterie, herbs, and pickled items. Lauren ordered. And you can help Amie with anything else she needs. What are you going to get? Debi ventured. I m going to get the, um, Soteltyes. Now we meet back here at one for lunch. Lauren fixed them all with a dazzling smile. ~~~~~ At the fishmonger Lauren waited impatiently while the couple ahead of her discussed their evening meal. Lady, you re next. How about a nice sea bass today? The man gestured towards his impressive display of freshly caught fish, artfully arranged on beds of gleaming ice. Behind him a huge glass tank contained the live portion of his wares. Eels. Gonna need a lot of eels, dude. Lemme get my net. ~~~~~ Les stared at her list. "Wardonys ? Debi, do you have klew one what a wardonys is? Or is it an is ? Could it be an are ? One wardony, two or more wardonys ?" Debi grinned. "*I* did my home-work." She whipped a piece of paper from her back pocket and unfolded it. Reading it, she announced, "Wardonys equals pears." "Really!?" Les exclaimed. "What luck! I know what pears look like. Bosc or Anjou?" "Uh," said Debi, staring hard at the piece of paper. "It doesn t say." "Well, let s get Anjou. It sounds more French, yeah?" "Do we want French?" "Most the French I know, I learned watching Forever Knight. We *must* want French." "Your logic is impeccable." "It usually is. That doesn t seem to keep me out of trouble for some reason though." "Logic frequently has very little to do with Real Life, Les." "Yeah?" "Yeah. Oh, look, the wardonys! You get those; I ll look for the caboges and the spynoch." ~~~~~ Some time later, Leslie and Debi, laden with shopping bags, ran into Lauren, who was deep in whispered conversation with a teenaged butcher. She shook her head, looked disappointed, and turned away to see her friends. Haven t you bought anything? Debi s voice was muffled by the large bunches of spinach that stuck out of the bags she clutched to her chest. Oh, yea. I m good. The second Soteltye looks to be a little scarce though. Bummer. Where are your packages? Debi s arms were starting to hurt. Lauren gestured towards Weasel and Refrigerator, who sat some distance away on a bench. Four large plastic pails rested at their feet and several boxes tied with string were piled next to them. Where d they come from?! "I called Don Constantine and asked if he could send them over. Lauren misunderstood the expression on Leslie s face. I m not going to carry that stuff. In these heels? You called Don Con? Les was impressed. Arranging for eel porters during a War called for a degree of organization that Les could only admire. The 3 UFfers went to find their comrades, as Weasel and Refrigerator trailed behind, struggling with the heavy buckets of water. Despite the lids, water sloshed onto their pant legs. Lauren was not looking forward to telling Amie about her inability to procure a peacock. ~~~~~ Back at the Hive, Lauren paced up and down in the driveway as Weasel and Refrigerator, stone-faced, made repeated trips from the van to the kitchen, carrying the pails boxes of fruit wine bottles shopping bags baskets cartons of vegetables. Amie stood dejectedly by the front door. I can t change the menu now. Amie was close to tears. What are we going to do? Lauren understood Amie s desperation. There was *nothing* worse than not being able to find a key ingredient for a dinner party, except (she could hardly bring herself to think it) a last minute cancellation. Don t worry Amie, I ve got an idea. ~~~~~ At twilight, Lauren, dressed in black, came down the stairs and stood in the foyer for a moment, considering. Yo, Laurey! She shouted back up the stairs. Can I borrow your car? Lauren waited a fraction of a second. Thanks! Got the keys! She plucked the Porsche keys from the jumbled pile of items thrown on the marble-topped credenza and quickly left. Whhaa t? Laurey s voiced floated downstairs from the library, where UFfers were restoring their reading room after the RatPack's visit. Julia, standing at the kitchen window while Amie and Debi put away the last of the food, watched as Lauren went to the front of the little silver car. She opened the hood, produced a tape measure from her jacket pocket and stood staring thoughtfully into its interior. What s Lauren doing? Debi had come up behind Julia. She appears to be measuring the trunk space of Laurey s car. At that moment, Shan rushed into the kitchen and cried breathlessly, Hey! Did Lauren leave already? She said I could go to the zoo with her! *The End* From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IO0w-0005FF-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:09:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0010; Sat, 21 Aug 99 23:07:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4573; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:07:26 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:09:18 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: War: Enforcers: To Boogie,or Not to Boogie. That is the Question. To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b00204463f55c784da91c5b8bcf19901 Written By: Enid Rodriguez Place: Enid's Hotel Suite at the Blackwood Arms (The official enforcer hotel) Time: August 21, 1999. Saturday 10:00pm...ish Fellow Enforcers used with permission. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Enid threw her head to the side and sighed, shaking a magic eight ball. She closed her eyes tightly, "Should I go to the Vaq Party tonight?" She asked the hunk of plastic. M A Y B E "Ugh! That doesn't help." she grubbled, tossing the toy on her bed. Enid glanced at the vanity mirror. "What are you lookin' at?!" she barked at her reflection with a NY accent. She plopped herself down on her bed, "Someone give me a sign?!" From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IOiT-0006cH-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:54:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8807; Sat, 21 Aug 99 23:52:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6544; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:52:05 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 20:53:58 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs/Nothers/RP--Singin' Fools. To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 84c5ac8adbfa2730ab6af6c92a6230f9 21 Aug 1999 The Pitted Peach Toronto,ON Sometime in the midst of all rhe madness Disclaimer at the end. Everyone used with permission. No midi files to share :( Singin' Fools By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia with help from Fleurette and Libby Felicia, Sarah, and Teresita were in a corner of the bar surveying the scene. The party had grown to mammoth proportions, and the Vaqs were pleased. Nearly every faction had representation. It appeared music was indeed the universal language that could bring even the least harmonious warriors together. Or perhaps it was soothing the savage beasts, so to speak. In another part of the room, Fleurette looked at the flyer in her hand. It'd arrived earlier that week, but since they'd all been busy with the raid on the Dark Perks, they'd kind of forgotten about it. Now that the raid was over, however, Fleurette had time to give the invitation more than a passing glance. But that was only after five Nothers had changed clothes and piled into the van on their way to the party. Now, they sat gaping at what used to be the Jewelled Peach. "*This* is where your Nunkies weirdos hang out?" NightDancer asked in shock. "It u-used to be..." Fleurette muttered. Just then, the Ratpack entered from the tunnels under the city. "'Ere we go," Johnsie said. "Our wun-der-fully vac-ci-nation 'ome h'in the Jewelled Peach," Libs said, clapping her hands with anticipation. "H'ain't nuthin' loik h'it! Duct tapin' o'er the Sacred Cold Pond." "Puttin' Jell-O h'in h'it a'fore'and," Marissa said dreamfully. "Replacin' h'all the Nunklear Meltdown De-vices wit...." Michele started to add as the Ratpackers entered the shiny pretty stainless steel kitchen cabinet and swung open the door. "Thems lewk loik Vach-o-netti's vermin," Screed said peering into the kitchen. "An' wot's tha' noise?" "Karaoke!" all the Ratpackers screamed at once. "AAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!" As quickly as they could, Screed and his followers slammed shut the cabinets and dove back into their tunnel. There were things even the lowly Ratpackers would not lower themselves to do. Unbeknowst to anyone, Kenny the rat had slipped through the cabinet door when the Ratpackers opened it. However, he found himself scurrying unnoticed between party goers with his lil' ratsie paws over his lil' ratsie ears. Nothing, not even karaoke could keep him from his mission of ratsie overpopulation now that Screed, the former god yet enemy of all Toronto ratsies, was nothing more than a mere mortal. Back in the Peach, the trio in the corner were going over lyrics to the song they had prepared. "Oh, y'all, this is great," Felicia exclaimed. "Leave it to us to throw the grooviest party!" Teresita beamed. "Yup! Who knew that Cows were such party animals!" Sarah slung an arm over the shoulders of her compatriots. "Let's do this, now, guys!" The three ambled over to Rae, the emcee. "We're ready for our close up, Ms. Rae," Teresita announced. Rae laughed. "Oh, boy, I'm not sure the rest are ready for you, but go ahead. I'll put on your music." The three amigas stepped up to the microphone. Vachon, who was lurking in the back, looked up with interest. "Oh, this could be trouble," he said softly. Juan appeared at his side. "Talking to yourself, Javier? This war must have gotten to you," he kidded. "Well, you didn't have your hair dyed pink," Vachon mumbled. "True, but I did hear about it. I would have felt it, but, well, you know. Who did it? Have you figured it out yet?" Vachon sighed, "Not yet. We haven't had a much time to think since we switched Headquarters. I'll be glad to be back in the Church tomorrow." Juan nodded. "Yes. Perhaps then we can work through this. This cannot go unpunished." Vachon arched an eyebrow. "Oh? You'd be willing to help?" "Of course. We're family, after all." Vachon considered that. Juan was right, of course. "Thanks. I'd appreciate that." Rae's voice came over the sound system. "Alright, our next performers are Teresita, Sarah and Felicia doing 'Cool Rider' from the 'Grease II' soundtrack." The opening guitar riff roared and the Vaqs exchanged grins. They sang: If you really wanna know, what I want in a guy well I'm lookin' for a dream on a mean machine, with hell in his eyes. I want a devil in skin tight leather, who's gonna be wild as the wind, and one fine night, I'll be holdin' on tight to a Cool Rider, a Cool Rider, if he's cool enough, he can burn me through and through, whoa whoa, If it takes forever, then I'll wait forever. No ordinary guy, no ordinary guy is gonna do, I want a Rider that's Cool. Juan nudged his brother and smiled. "I think they're playin' your song." Vachon was eating it up. "I just love it when they sing praises to me." The song continued: That's the way it's gonna be, 'cuz that's the way that I feel. I want a whoie lot more than the boy next door, I want hell on wheels. Just give me a black motorcycle, with a man rollin' out of the seat, then move aside, 'cuz I'm gonna ride with a Cool Rider, a Cool Rider, if he's cool enough he can burn me through and through, whoa whoa, If it takes forever, then I'll wait forever. No ordinary guy, no ordinary guy is gonna do, I want a Rider that's Cool. . . The Vaqs finished out their song and left the stage to a round of applause. Vachon approached them. "Bravo! You guys are great. I never have as much fun as during a war, attacks and all." "Awwww! It's nice to know we're useful," Sarah said. "Yeah", Teresita chimed. "We're havin' a blast, too, aren't we, Twink? Twink? Earth to Felicia, come in. . ." Teresita watched her Vaq Twin, who was staring at the bar with a strange look on her face. "Umm, Houston, we have a problem. What's up Feleesh?' Felicia heaved a deep sigh. "I just noticed Juan over there," she said, pointing to the bar. "I'd hate for him to feel left out, ya know, no faction playin' this war." Vachon nodded. "Yeah. So, what can we do about it?" The Vaq Adj and Brat Extrordinaire smiled. "I have a plan," she said. Sarah, Teresita, and Vachon exchanged glances. "Yikes," they said in unison. Liz, Kat, Jeanne, Fleurette and NightDancer sat at a table for five, listening to the next people sing really badly. "I could do better than that," Night dancer muttered. This gave Fleurette an idea. "Hey, Liz! Why don't you and Kat sing somehting and show these amateurs a thing or two?" she whispered to Liz. Liz looked hesitant. "What'll you give me?" she asked. Fleurette thought about it. "If you do, we'll *all* sing one next." "And...?" Liz probed. Fleurette sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll make it so that Dancer's restricted from even thinking about falling asleep near Daf and that you can flirt with him all you want." "Deal!" Liz whispered back. "But I'll have to convince Kat to do it." After some convincing, Kat and Liz found themselves on stage, singing the "Sisters" song from 'White Christmas'. LIz: Sisters, Sisters there were never such devoted sisters Kat: Caring, Sharing every little thing that we are wearing LIz: When a certain gentleman arrived from Rome she wore the dress and I stayed home Both: All kinds of weather we stick together the same in the rain or sun Two different faces but in tight places we think and we act as one "It fits them, doesn't it?" Nightdancer whipsered to no one in particular. "Shh..." Fleurette hushed her, although she nodded in silent agreement. On stage, the two cybersibs finished their song. Liz: Lord help the mister who comes between me and my sister Kat: And Lord help the sister who comes between me and my man When they finished and people were applauding good-naturedly, they pointed toward the rest of their group and Liz said into the microphone, "Fleurette promised to help us with another song. Come on up, Nothers!" With the audience cheering them on, Fleurette herded her mom and NightDancer up on to the stange. After a brief conference, Fleurette took the microphone and said, "We'd like to dedicate this song to Natalie and Nick." The Nothers began to sing: All: A fine romance With no kisses A fine romance My friend, this is Fleurette: You should be like A Couple of hot tomatoes. But Nick's as cold as yesterday's mash potatoes. All: A fine romance You won't nestle A fine romance You won't wrestle Dancer: Nat might as well play bridge With her old maid aunts. She hasn't got a chance This is a fine romance. All: A fine romance My good fellow A fine romance I'll take jello Kat: Nick's calmer than the seals In the Arctic Ocean At least they flap their fins To express emotion All: A fine romance With no quarrels With no insults And all morals LIz: Nat's mussed the crease In Nick's blue serge pants She never gets the chance This is a fine romance All: A fine romance With no kisses A fine romance My friend, this is Jeanne: Nick's just as hard to land As the Isle de France Nat hasn't got a chance All, speaking: Her heart's not made of plastic Nick's the reason I'm sarcastic. Cuz this is a fine Fine romance! Once again applause rang out as the Nothers left the stage. "What a rush," Fleurette exclaimed. Rae's voice came once again over the sound system. "Here comes our next singer! Welcome to the stage. . ." Disclaimer: I don't own any of the songs in this post, 'nuff said! Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2, Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!) Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IOp9-0006qf-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:01:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8827; Sat, 21 Aug 99 23:56:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6893; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:56:29 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:56:27 -0500 Reply-To: macman@worldnetla.net Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Scott Greer Subject: WAR: VAQ: Scott's Song To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b863f572dd23fc33243b52bce285b74f Disclaimer: The musical My Fair Lady and the song On The Street Where You Live are actual items written by Jay Lerner and Alan Loewe. If you've never seen it, you should. It is a touching story (and one of my favorites) Carnegie Hall in New York is an actual place. I used myself with my own permission. Trust me, I asked. Any Vaqs that might appear are used with their own permission as well. A midi file with the music so you can sing along can be found at: http://www.computeralliesinc.com/karaoke.html Place: The Pitted Peach Time: During the Vaq Karaoke Party, Saturday 8/21 Scott's Song At the Karaoke Party, it was Scott's turn. Finally. He had chosen "On The Street Where You Live", a love song from the musical "My Fair Lady". My Fair Lady was one of the first musicals Scott had ever been in, and it held a special place in his heart. This was his favorite song from it. Of course Scott had spent seven and a half years in college studying Vocal Music. He had been trained for this, but somehow he was nervous again. He always got nervous whenever he sang this song. "Must be because I'm singing in front of people who have never heard me," he said to himself. (mental note: STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF SCOTT!!!! YOU MIGHT BEGIN ANSWERING YOURSELF ONE DAY AND THEY WILL TAKE YOU TO "THAT SPECIAL PLACE"!!!!) With that he headed to the stage. As he approached the stage, he passed his pal Felicia. Felicia had heard Scott sing before (they had known each other for two years) but she had never seen him this nervous. "You ok Scott?" He replied, shakily, "Yeah, I think so, but I've never been this nervous. I shouldn't be this nervous." Felicia looked at Scott and said what she usually did to him: "You can do it, so go!!" In one of his thoughts (again) Scott thought Yeah, Suuuuure!! He got up to the stage. "Calm thoughts, Scott; Calm thoughts." He took the microphone, looked out to the crowd, and told the Karaoke Master to go. The music began. Scott began to sing. When she mentioned how her aunt bit off the spoon, She completely 'done me in' And my heart went on a journey to the moon, when she told about her father - and the gin!! And I never heard a more enchanting farce - than the moment when she shouted "MOVE YOUR BLOOMIN'....." There was a musical interlude..........then he continued. I have often walked down this street before but the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before. All at once am I several stories high!! Knowing I'm on the street where you live. Are there Lilac trees in the heart of town Can you hear a lark in any other part of town? Does enchantment pour out of every door? No, it's just on the street where you live!! (Chorus) And Oh! The towering feeling Just to know, somehow you are near. The o - verpowering feeling That any second you may suddenly appear. People stop and stare, they don't bother me. For there's nowhere else on earth that I would rather be!! Let the time go by - I don't care if I, Can be here, on the street, where you live!! another musical interlude......thinking time..... People stop and stare, they don't bother me. For there's nowhere else on earth that I would rather be!! Let the time go by - I don't care if I, Can be here, on the street, where you live!! With that, the song was over. Scott thought for a minute, and realized he was sweating profusely. "Hey, I remember this feeling. It's the way I felt when I sang that solo in Carnegie Hall. It was weird. I was nervous, but I was surrounded by my closest friends." It was a good feeling to have again, indeed. Scott Greer mailto:macman@worldnetla.net The Maverick ".....revenge is a dish best served cold...." Khan Noonien Singh,Star Trek II From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IOqu-0006uW-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:03:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0162; Sat, 21 Aug 99 23:55:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6833; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:55:53 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:57:46 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: On & On & On (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ed3ff07e88ed5a3ee3cfa8a08d0962c3 NA: On & On & On (1/2) by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Bons, Nite, Jennifer, Shele, Ted, CotK Lisa Harvey, Vachon, Tracy Sue, Rae, and Carmen People and mammals used with permission. Location: Spanish Lily's/The Pitted Peach Time: Saturday August 21st, Night The karaoke party was off to a rocking start when the Nunkies Addicts arrived. The thing was, they weren't altogether certain they *had* arrived. The neighboring businesses looked the same, it was the proper address on Queen Street, the same alley ran alongside the familiar warehouse facing, optimistically labeled 'Peach Street.' There was no sign of their beloved restaurant, 'The Jeweled Peach,' though. Instead, the establishment had been eerily replaced by some kind of cantina. Nite, Jennifer, Shele and Ted knew this was a bad thing. They looked to Bons for confirmation (Actually, Nite, Jennifer and Ted looked. Ted rotated Shele's luggage cart so she could look at the Scribe - they'd finally etched her some eye holes). Bonnie seemed to be off on a mental vacation, maybe her Shiney, Happy Place. The Scribe was muttering, "I will not panic...I will not panic... I will not panic...I'm having fun...I'm having fun...I'm having fun..." under her breath. "Bons? Are you okay?" Nite asked nervously. The Scribe gave a weak smile. "Why wouldn't I be okay?" She gestured toward the festive sign declaring the establishment to be 'Spanish Lily's,' coupled with a shady neon sign proclaiming it was also 'The Pitted Peach.' "I can handle change." "No you can't," Nite, Jennifer and Ted retorted. (Shele retorted, too, but that sounded more like, "Mmm-mmmf-mmmmpt!") Bons smiled again, but her teeth were clenched as she said, "Of course I can." "No, you can't." "Yes, I can! I've been much more flexible since I stopped drinking coffee." Ted slanted a leer the Scribe's way. "How flexible?" Shele had something to say about that. "MMMFFR!" Bons took a deep breath and reached for the door. "So the Vaqs changed the place a little to suit their own tastes. A new sign out front is nothing to lose your calm over." Nite, Jennifer, Shele and Ted glanced at each other. When they stepped inside the restaurant, it was packed with people. Bonnie wasn't looking at them, though. She carelessly ignored all the friends on the scene who waved or called greetings her way. Her eyes were focused on the new wall sconces, the lily centerpieces on each table, and the sunset landscapes that had replaced the Peach's roman murals. Nite couldn't hold back her gasp. "They gutted part of the Peach!" Jennifer kept quiet. She still wasn't altogether certain what she'd gotten up to during her adventures as Caligula, Roman emperor and nutcase. It was better to not say a word, just in case it turned out she had anything to do with anything. Ted evaluated the addition of a biker bar. He kind of liked it - wouldn't it be convenient for bar fights? - but he was smarter than he looked. There would be no pointing this out until he was sure Shele wouldn't fall on him in outrage. Bons remained silent, but the look in her eyes spoke volumes. There would be no enjoying of the Pat Benetar number one Uffer was belting out a tune on stage. No, Bonnie was marching purposefully in the direction of the private dining room, to see just how far the changes extended in the Shrine, itself. Vachon and Tracy Sue were leaning against the door, watching the show. Both straightened when they saw the NA Scribe barreling through the crowd in their direction. Tracy Sue had her wiffle bat and appeared ready to intercept the redhead, but Vachon put a restraining hand on her arm. "Let her go. She's bound to see everything sooner or later." Bons stomped by them (and stomping was a challenge now Bons lacked shoes), too concerned about the Shrine to waste a glare on the Vaqmadre or the Spaniard. She saw...she saw everything. Some things weren't so bad - it appeared the construction workers were putting the finishing touches on the third floor, and the new roof was complete. The Library was untouched, as was the Laboratory/Kitchen and Sacred Stables (Jennifer to the credit for that one looking so nice and polished). Other rooms, however, were not so lucky. Bonnie started to appear a little queasy when she saw all the redecorated bedrooms. She seemed to begin to lose her sense of balance when they came across the remains of a bonfire behind the main altar. Nite, Ted and Shele all agreed that Bons was taking the scarred condition of the Shrine very well. Then they stepped into the Greenroom. Bons froze, forcing the others to bump into her, her eyes widening in horror at the art painted on the bottom of the Sacred Cold Pond. "The Slacker!" Nite exclaimed, peering over her shoulder. "In leathers!" Ted echoed, easily looking over the Scribe's head. "And he's....!!" Jennifer shrieked, but lost her voice at the shock. "Mmm-mmr-mmmyyyffff!!" Shele finished. Bons turned her back on the aquatic aberration, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as though to force it out of her memory through her ears. Then she opened her mouth. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Scientists in Helsinki recorded her scream as an atmospheric disturbance of unknown origin. Then Bonnie passed out, ass backwards. Unfortunately, into the pond. ********************************************************************* You could tell it was a Vaq party, because when the Addicts returned to the main dining room/biker bar/karaoke dojo of Spanish Lily's/The Pitted Peach, everyone was silent, blinking intermittently at the quartet carrying a still-unconscious and soggy Scribe. "She's a little homesick," Ted offered as an explanation. Once they had Bonnie laid out on the bar, the party guests began to lose interest, and the music began again. "She took it better than I expected," Vachon confided to Tracy Sue. Carmen poked her pink and black nose out from under her bar stool, checking to see if the coast was clear of scary screaming women. At Vachon's urging, the cat wiggled her rump before leaping back atop the leather stool cushion, then leaned the Spaniard's way as he rubbed between her ears. "What did you expect Bons to do?" Tracy Sue wondered. "The construction crew still has chainsaws upstairs, you know." Nite was trying to figure out what she should do about her fallen leader. "How do we wake her up??" Ted shrugged. "Stick something under her nose that she hates the smell of." "Mmmmgggs!!" Shele said. "Where am I supposed to find eggs?" Ted complained. He grabbed the bartender by the collar and pulled him halfway over the counter. "You got any eggs?" The bartender stuttered out something that seemed negative. Ted dropped him, giving Shele a 'See? I'm right!' look. "What'd I tell you?" "Mfffoo-mmm-mmmnnnm-mmmn-mmmmllll-mm-mmmmmrrrrreee- mmmmmttt-mmmggg!" Ted rolled his eyes. "All right! All right! I'll go to the Lab/Kitchen and boil an egg!" He started to move, but had second thoughts. He pointed a warning finger at Shele and said, "Don't go anywhere, babe." He tapped the countertop. "Stay right here. Promise?" "Mmrrr-mmmmsss." Nite and Jennifer, however, hadn't made any promises to anyone. Their attention had wandered toward the karaoke stage, where Rae was controlling the technical side of things, and they were quickly caught up in the excitement of the performers. They odds of them staying put instantly became nil. They wandered closer, grabbing a pair of empty chairs close to the action. A woman had just climbed on stage, taking over the mike from Rae and clearing her throat. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Lisa Harvey. I may be a Cousin of the Knight...' There were cheers from friends at this mention. "...but in the past month I've became affiliated another group. I've got a little song I want to share about it, and I think there are a few people in the audience who could really benefit. Kyer, Kathy - I dedicate this one to you!" A sax solo broke out over the sound system, signaling the opening strains to the ABBA song, 'I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do.' Then Lisa began to sing filked lyrics, doing a pretty decent job carrying the tune. "Not Nick but LC I'm more Cousin than Knightie Yes, It's true! I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool I can't conceal it My meltdown is imminent I'm his fool! I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool Oh, I've been fighting the spell LaCroix casts but I'm addicted - I've said it at last! Now I'm out of the closet I've confessed, can't deny it Hormones rule! I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool There was a lengthy sax solo, during which all the ABBA and LaCroix fans in the audience put their hands in the air and began to sway. Jennifer and Nite stood, hooting and whistling. Egged on by their enthusiasm, Lisa put her heart and soul into delivering the end of the number. "Oh, no hard feelings between you and me If you'll just write a Nunkies fantasy! Now I'm out of the closet I've confessed, can't deny it Hormones rule! I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool Not more Nick but more LC I'm more Cousin than Knightie Yes, It's true! I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool I can't conceal it My meltdown is imminent I'm his fool! I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool, I drool" By the time the last stanza rolled around, Nite and Jennifer were singing along. They clapped hard when the music ended and Lisa took her bows. Nite leaned over and told Jennifer emphatically, "*We* are getting in on this." And, before the microphone had a chance to cool from Lisa's grip, Nite had jumped on stage and was cueing Rae on her background tune. On the sidelines, Vachon grimaced. "Oh, no...no, no, no, no...It's another ABBA song!" ********************************************************************* End of Part 1 Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html Spare Bambi! Eat Soy! From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IP9W-0007SW-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:22:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0369; Sun, 22 Aug 99 00:12:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9289; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:12:53 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:14:24 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: War: Enforcers: I Like the Night Life, I Like to Boogie... (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 29a2e68c8e1a3f7b355f208e43750f46 A continuation of "To Boogie, or not to Boogie. That is the Question. Still in Enid's Hotel Room. 10pm ish Enforcers used with Permission, of course. ----------------------------------------- Enid sat on her bed and thought, and thought, and thought. She even had a couple of flashbacks herself. (Ya know, I can do *that* too) However her angst was interrupted by a rapid knocking at the door. "Who is it?" She asked, a little weary since it was getting late. "It's only the hottest guy on the planet." Enid smirked, it was Steve the Tactical Lt. of the enforcers. She open the door with a pout. "Your not Nick." She quipped. Steve rolled his eyes, "Ha Ha, very funny. Now get dressed." Enid allowed him to enter, but kept the door open. "I'm not going anywhere Steve, tell the others I'm sick or something, OK?" But Steve wasn't listening, he was flipping through Enid's belongings. "Wear this one." He said shortly, tossing her a red, silk dress. Enid quickly tossed the dress back. "I'm not going!" She shrilled. Steve sighed, "I didn't want to do this yet, but, Enid I have to show you something." Steve said coldly, undoing his coat. "Steve, what are you doing? Stop it!" Enid giggled uncomfortably. "Take a look at *THIS*!" "NOOOO!!!" Enid screamed. Steve opened his coat, and Enid saw....a suit. A really awesome, black, DKNY suit. "Oh my Gosh! You look great!" Enid gasped. Steve quickly closed up his coat again. "Don't rub it in." He pouted. Enid smiled, if Steve could dress up, put the past aside, and put the enforcers first then so could she. "Give me 10 minutes" Enid said grabbing the dress. She ran to her bathroom to vamp up, pun not intended. "Uh..Steve?" "Yeah Enid?" "Thanks" From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IPBc-0002II-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:24:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8977; Sun, 22 Aug 99 00:06:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8757; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:06:19 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:08:12 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: On & On & On (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8b18ffe05904bffc5ae670b55f6b16f2 NA: On & On & On (2/2) by Bonnie Rutledge Starring: Bons, Nite, Jennifer, Shele, Ted, Vachon, Tracy Sue, Rae, and Carmen People and mammals used with permission Location: The Pitted Peach Time: Saturday August 21st, Night This time, Nite's lyrics weren't so different from the original ABBA song of 'Honey, Honey,' so there was even more of a sing-along. They'd deny it later, but witnesses say that members of the UF knew all the words to this song *very* well. "Nunkies, Nunkies, how you thrill me, ah ah Nunkies, Nunkies, Nunkies, Nunkies, nearly kill me, ah ah, Nunkies, Nunkies I heard about you before, I wanted to know some more!!!!!! Now I know what they mean, your a luv machine!!!!!!! Oh, ya make me dizzy!!!!! Nunkies, Nunkies, let me feel it, ah ah, Nunkies, Nunkies!!!! Nunkies, Nunkies, don't conceal it, ah ah, Nunkies, Nunkies The way that you kiss goodnight, the way that you hold me tight I feel like I want to sing when ya do your thing..." Vachon winced on the sidelines. "Swedish poetry - there's nothing like it," he observed, then took a substantial swig from his beer. Meanwhile, Ted had successfully boiled an egg. Shele was very proud and told him so. "Mmmfff-mmmm-mmmm-mmmmdddd!" "I try." Ted held the egg under the Scribe's nostrils, then frowned when she didn't so much as twitch. "It's not working! I forced myself to do something *domestic,* and it's still not working!" "Mmmd!" Shele's voice was full of exasperation. "Mmmm- mmmttttaaa-mmmmppp-mmmtt!" Ted gave her a sheepish grin. "Oh, right. I forgot." He tapped the hard-boiled egg against Shele's plaster to crack the shell. "Thanks, babe," he said, then started peeling. By this time, Nite had finished her song. There was a lot of applause, but it wasn't clear if this was due to an overwhelming appreciation for ABBA or the Pitted Peach's liquor license. Jennifer stood, and she and Nite clapped hands as though they were part of a wrestling tag team, and it was Jennifer's turn to slam someone into the ropes. Rae was starting to wonder if she'd ever get control of the mike again. Then again, she had her Captain Morgan and Coke, plus two unopened packs of cigarettes in her pocket. What did she care? "Well, we've had two songs for all the LaCroix fans in the audience..." Jennifer announced over the microphone. There were effusive cheers mingled with a few contrary catcalls. "I think it's about time we have a filk aimed at the Knighties!!!" This statement drew cheers from a new section of the audience. Jennifer leaned over and conferred with Rae for a moment. "I have a bad feeling about this," Vachon muttered, picking Carmen off her stool for comfort. Tracy Sue concentrated as the music started. "I've never heard this before. It's not another ABBA song is it?" "You bet your wiffle bat it is," Vachon groaned. "'Hey, Hey Helen,' off their self-titled album." Tracy Sue decided to not ask why he was familiar with so many ABBA songs. It was probably another one of those vampire things. Or an Urs thing. Or a Screed thing. It was definitely, absolutely, under no circumstances, affiliated with Vachon ever, even for a second, listening to an ABBA record of his own free will. "Question: why do we even *have* ABBA discs in the music pile?" Vachon was very quiet for a while. He acted as though he was busy untangling a tiny mat in Carmen's voluptuous fur. "Maybe one of the Addicts left them?" "Yeah," Tracy Sue nodded, but she still peered at Vachon suspiciously. "That explains it." Jennifer insisted on performing a couple vocal exercises before she nodded for Rae to hit 'play.' Then, it was showtime! "So at last you're free It's the way you wanted it to be And the price you pay To become a mortal of today Do you like to see the other vampires die? Do you care if they adjust badly? Hey hey Nick Knight Now you're accident prone Hey hey Nick Knight Next stop: retirement home So you're free at last And beginning to forget your past But it makes me sad When I think about the life you had Being there, when Beethoven composed 'Fur Elise' Can't be worth less than a heartbeat Hey hey Nick Knight Now you're only human Hey hey Nick Knight Real Life is sink or swim Hey hey Nick Knight What's the matter with you Hey hey Nick Knight Just wait 'til you catch the flu (yes you will uh-huh yes you'll catch the flu uh-huh yes you'll catch the flu) Hey hey Nick Knight Joints get sore and they ache Hey Hey Nick Knight Have Nat check your prostate Hey hey Nick Knight Hey hey Nick Knight (There's death in every hot dog) Hey hey Nick Knight Hey hey Nick Knight (Feel your arteries clog) Hey hey Nick Knight Hey hey Nick Knight" (Oops. It was another filk the Cousins enjoyed more than the Knighties. C'est la vie. What'd you expect from an Addict?) During the course of the song, Ted managed to successfully peel an egg. (It was a night of amazing firsts, ladies and gentlemen!) Under Shele's continually muffled instruction, he tore the egg in half and held the spongy, fragrant yolk directly under the Scribe's nose. Her reaction was violent, as in, Bonnie punched him with a right cross. While Ted stumbled around the bar, dropping and squishing the boiled egg pieces on the floor under his boots, Bons rolled over just enough to dry heave over the side of the bar. "Mmmddd-mmm-mmt-mmmmrrrkkk!" Shele crowed in triumph. Ted rubbed his facial booboo tenderly. "Sure, it worked! But she almost broke my nose!" Ted's speaking unfortunately drew Bonnie's wrath anew. One arm snaked out, and she yanked him closer by his chest hair, close enough to see the Message O' Death in her hazel eyes. "If you ever bring so much as an omelet within fifty feet of me again, I'll write you out of the war so fast you'll win the Winston Cup!" "Shele made me do it!" "Yeah, sure, blame it on the chick in a body cast!" Bons glanced around the bar, then darted her eyes toward the stage. Jennifer was belting out something about Nick's mortal coil to the tune of ABBA's 'Hey Hey Helen.' Bonnie was pleased. She *loved* ABBA. The Scribe scanned the room some more. Tracy Sue and Vachon were still leaning against the wall, looking less than enthusiastic about the current musical selection blasting over the speakers, despite Jennifer's lovely voice. Bonnie's eyes narrowed. The Spaniard had a feline curled over his shoulder. Ted noticed that Bonnie's bare feet were tapping. (She was still stretched out on top of the bar, so it was easy to see.) "If you'd woken up earlier, you'd have heard the other two songs." Bonnie perked up. "ABBA songs? Hmm..." She glanced back at the Spaniard again, a calculating look in her eye. The music of Jennifer's filk was fading when Vachon let out a groan. "Uh-oh." "What?" Tracy Sue asked. "The redhead's up, and she looks dangerous." Vachon experienced a moment of sheer panic when he saw Bonnie roll to a knee crouch on the bar, wiggle her eyebrows at him, then tilt her head in challenge at the karaoke stage. "Musically pissed. Nononono..." Vachon handed his cat over to a startled Tracy Sue, but the move slowed him down enough that Bons got a good head start on her run for the stage. The redhead dove on stage (It was the Lymbough practice!), then snatched the mike away from Rae and pushed her off in one fluid movement. "Play 'Waterloo'!" she ordered. "Rae!" Vachon had reached the edge of the stage, and he was determined there would be no more ABBA this evening. "Don't do it!" "Play it!" "Never!" Rae, not confused because there was a conflict between the V-man and the NA leader, but because it was over an ABBA song, took a private moment to swig half her drink and inhale another cigarette in one puff. Then she took a nice, deep breath. "Okay...what was the problem again?" "Play 'Waterloo,' or I'll superglue your glass to the table!" Bonnie threatened. "Give me the CD, Rae," Vachon said in a firm voice. "Well, that's a no-brainer," Rae concluded happily. She handed the ABBA/ABBA disc to Vachon. The Spaniard smugly snapped it in two. Bonnie stamped her feet on stage for a three-second tantrum. "NO!" "Yes," Vachon countered, extending an arm. "Now, slowly hand over the microphone..." Bonnie shook her head. "Don't make do something drastic." Had Vachon caught on to what she was planning a second earlier, he would have gagged the Scribe, or *something.* "Fanfic Fairies! I need you!" Bons called urgently. *poof!* *poof!* "Quick!" Bonnie said. "I'll trade you a kidney if you play 'Waterloo'!" There was music. "Oh, damn!" Vachon cursed. He should have seen that one coming. And, so, Vachon had to endure another ABBA filk: "My, my, that Tracy Sue sure is a great pretender Oh yeah, and I have told some fibs to her in quite a similar way Nunkies' Shrine was missing a roof The Church was a wreck - we both goofed! Tracy Sue - I think it's time that the switch was done Tracy Sue - Painting your bathroom peach sure was fun Tracy Sue - I see the Vaqs made some changes too Tracy Sue - Black leather bedspreads - can I say 'Ehhww!'? Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! - Tracy Sue - Time to get back to your own HQ My my, we had an itch to scratch - it was a riot Oh yeah, and now it seems that leaving is like giving up the fight But our homes are both battered and bruised No one can win when we both lose Tracy Sue - I think it's time that the switch was done Tracy Sue - Surely Vachon is ready to run? Tracy Sue - Monsieur Cabon, we miss you! We Do! Tracy Sue - Have all our togas been ripped in two? No! No! No! No! - Tracy Sue - Time to get back to your own HQ Our homes are both battered and bruised No one can win when we both lose Tracy Sue - Those cow-print cushions are really you Tracy Sue - Vachon in the Pond - I've gotta boo Oh, oh, oh, oh - Tracy Sue - Time to get back to your own HQ Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa - Tracy Sue - Time to get back to your own HQ!" The namesake of this filk joined Vachon and Rae at stage side while the Scribe was singing. When it was over, Bons held on tightly to the mike, crossing her arms in front of her chest and tapping her bare right foot. "Well?" Tracy Sue shrugged. "Switch back? Sure. We can do it tomorrow. If that's all you wanted, you could have just asked. No ABBA necessary." Bons splayed a hand in the air. "Not so fast! I want the Peach and the Pond back the way they were *before* the switch!" "No way," Vachon argued. "Do you expect us to believe you did nothing to my Church? I seem to remember the words 'painting your bathroom peach' in that song." Bons waffled. "Well...there's a nice fountain...and lots of plants...and the Evil Pink Enamel Sallie coated the church with to keep the rain out..." "Evil Pink Enamel?!" Tracy Sue sputtered. "It'll be gone by tomorrow! I have people working on it!" Bons promised. Vachon shook his head. "No deal. You're not trustworthy." Bons' expression turned ruthless again. "I've still got a few spare organs, you know...How about a nice ditty about your kitty?" She began to hum 'Chiquitita,' then sang a sample lyric. "Purr once more...like you did before...meow for Vachon... Carmecita..." The Spaniard conceded. He didn't think he could last through the redhead's tonsils, gall bladder and appendix. He didn't put it past her to chop off a pinky toe if she thought she could torment him out of the sacrifice. "Okay! We'll fix it! But you have to, too!" "Well, then..." Bons handed the microphone back to Rae and hopped off the stage. "Nice doing business with you." She paused to scratch Carmen under the chin, and the cat gave her a blinky look before Bons strolled back to the bar. Vachon repossessed his cat, reprimanding, "You should have bitten her, Carmen. Have you *read* her fanfic? She's a mean lady, and I use that tern loosely!" ******************************************************************** The Addicts on the premises did a couple more numbers that night, but no more filks, and definitely no more ABBA. Shele had Ted lift her up on stage and did a Crash Test Dummies song, but the entire thing came out as 'Mmm...Mmm...Mmm' instead of just the chorus. Ted did the next number, drawing upon the spirit of Elvis as he serenaded Shele with 'Can't Help Falling In Love With You.' Shele was thrilled enough to swoon. Luckily, she missed all the speakers when she hit the stage. All complaints about the Vaqs aside, even Bonnie had to admit they knew how to throw a screamin' fine party. *********************************************************************** Fin for now... Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html Spare Bambi! Eat Soy! From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IPMq-0002dz-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:36:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9121; Sun, 22 Aug 99 00:26:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0823; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:26:58 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 21:28:51 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR:Nothers/Vaqs: ANother's Encounter with Some Vaqs 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 640a07da1ca5b5300f0e0270260c3cbd Title: A Nother's Encounter with Some Vaqs 01/01 written by: Fleurette B Place: that which was formerly known as the Jewelled Peach, but isn't now. Time: sometime after Karaoke Night began, after "Karaoke Party-Evryone Welcome" and before "Singin' Fools" Disclaimers: Tracy Sue, Rae and Vachon used with Rae's permission. Therefore, if anyone complains about it, complain to Rae. She said I could. As for me, I gave myself permission to use me. :-) &&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Fleurette left the rest of Nothers and went wandering. She wasn't quite sue what she was looking for. It may have been that she wanted to check out what the Vaquera/os had done to the Shrine and the Peach. Or it may have been something else. In any case, she wasn't looking where she was going and ran right into something leather-clad. "Hey! Watch where you're--!" "I'm soryy! I wasn't watching where I was--!" The two people stopped speaking to notice each other. "Hey, Deb!" Vachon grinned at her. "Can't keep you're eyes off the new digs, huh?" he winked at the absentee Addict and waved a hand at the room around him. "It's..." Fleurette fumbled for quite the right words. "...interesting." "Just interesting?" Vachon queried, his eyebrow quirking in an endearing manner. "Don't tell me you actually *miss* the old decor? TS already told how much time you spend at *le Chateau* now." This comment, along with the devilish smile the Spaniard flashed her, caused more fumbling from the Scout Mistress of Nunkies Anonymous. Oblivious, Vachon went right on talking. "And you know what hurts more than not having been invited to come visit you at the castle? Not being told about your good news." "You know about the baby?" asked Fleurette. She hadn't thought any of the vampires--well mortals-vampires--knew about her being pregnant. Vachon shrugged. "I read TS's e-mail. Congrats, by the way!" Vachon empahsized the congradulations by slipping an arm around her and giving her a slight squeeze. It wasn't really a hug, but it still took her by surprise. She hadn't even gotten so much as a card from Nunkies. "Ummm..." she said, trying to think of something to take her mind off the arm around her waste. Sometimes, Fleurette swore Vachon knew about the secret, very personal thoughts she harbored about his deep, chocolately eyes. "How do you like being mortal?" Vachon suddenly went quiet. His arms slipped back to his side. "I'm sorry, Vachon. Did I say something wrong?" she asked. "No," he told her, shrugging non-committally. "I like it fine. It's just not something I would have expected to happen to me, is all." &&&&&&&&&&&&&&& "TS! Rae!" Fleurette was making her way back to the Nothers table when she saw the two Vaqueras. Waving, she walked over to them. "Fleurette! Debbie!" both Rae and Tracy Sue exclaimed in unison. "How're you guys doing this War?" Tracy Sue asked. By "you guys," of course she meant the Nothers. "We're holding our own," Fleurette told her friend. Tracy Sue smiled. "So," Rae interjected. "I saw Vachon giving yout he grand tour of the new-and-improved Shrine. Here she winked, indicating that she'd also seen the almost-hug they'd shared. "What'd you think?" "The place looks interesting." It was the same answer Debbie'd given Vachon. "You know," said Tracy Sue. "I think we still have some of the old decor lying around. next time I come to le Chateau, would you like me to bring them?" "Only if we never invite Nunkies to come visit us," Fleurette told her, grinning at the prospect of free remodelling for the Nothers home. Tracy Sue grinned back at her, and suddenly they both broke out into laughter. When Fleurette left the two Vaqueras, Rae turned to her co-hort. "What was that all about?" she asked. "Oh, nothing... it's just that Fleurette and I have already been dreading the first time LaCroix shows up at le Chateau. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Fin Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IPgO-0003K4-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:56:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9244; Sun, 22 Aug 99 00:54:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2410; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:54:34 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 22:56:28 MDT Reply-To: Meg Anderson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Meg Anderson Subject: War: NP: Making an Entrance To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: eceed34a1dd68a3c2bee1354676eae23 Making an Entrance at the Vaq Party By Meg Anderson and Melissa White Time: Saturday night, right after "VAQ-Karaoke Party-Everyone Welcome!". The front door of the bar slammed open, and two figures stood in the shadows. Slowly they stepped in and looked around at their surroundings. Two young, tallish brunettes gazed carefully at each Vaq, Micheal, and Giovanni. Then they smiled, and started bouncing over to the bar. The Vaqs giggled slightly at the thought of Natpackers trying to make an entrance. And succeeding. "Hi! This looks great!" Melissa called to the group of Vaqs. "You did a gorgeous job! Looks wonderful!" Meg, the brunette, grinned. "May I have a coke (tm), please?" she added, directing her request at Giovanni. He smiled and poured her the soda. "Could I have some coffee?" Melissa asked. And so they tucked into the scene, watching others arrive. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IQEf-0001pK-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 01:32:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7134; Sun, 22 Aug 99 01:29:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3610; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 01:29:52 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:24:55 -0500 Reply-To: Melissa White Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Melissa White Subject: WAR: NP: Capuccino Madness part 1/2 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 645b88be12075a963cfd039dff3d5fbb "CAppucino Madness" takes place Friday night August 20 by melissa white and the NatPack Lynn was investigating Natalie's kitchen cabinets and closets in the hopes of finding something decent to eat. The NatPack sure was going through a lot of food to the point that there was little left. One of the cabinets held an interesting discovery. She crawled into most of the cabinet, into the back, and extracted what turned out to be a cappuccino maker. "Whoah! Didn't know there was one of these here. " "What do you have there?" Robyn asked coming up behind her. "OOOH a cappuccino maker!" She said happily, immediately beginning a similar food search for cappuccino ingredients. Of course there were none to be found. "We're going to have to go to the store," she concluded. Robyn and Lynn took the cappuccino maker into the living room where the most of the NatPack were watching the Stratford's production of "The Taming of the Shrew" "Hey look what we found!" Lynn exclaimed, holding up the cappuccino maker. The Pack replied with a collective "oooooooooh" "SHHH!!!!" Janet hissed from her spot on the floor flanked by Linda Rose and Jill. "This is Petrucio's funniest scenes! Even when he's playing a nerd he is still sooooooooo so hot!!" "Yeah but he still looks best in a flight suit from the Helicopter show," Linda Rose commented. "He looks good in everything!" Janet said. "I had completely forgotten I had that," Natalie said, as some of the pack discussed the movie. Within seconds, the Pack started several separate conversations about the perfect cappuccino. Melissa, who was close to pen and paper, started copying down the different preferences until there was a quasi grocery list. Once everyone was quiet, she read the list, "let's see, chocolate, more chocolate, mint syrup, vanilla syrup, raspberry syrup, strawberry syrup, amaretto, Irish creme, Kahlua....." "Don't forget the milk," James reminded. "Right. Milk. A lot of Milk." Melissa noted. "The store down the street has a liquor store right next to it," Natalie said. "You can pick up that stuff there." "Good deal!" Meg said, bouncing up off the floor. "Oh like they're going to let you in the door!" Debra Ann informed her. "Well, I can always guard the groceries against the rats and whatever else is lurking," Meg consented. "All right who wants to go with to the store?" Melissa asked, holding up the keys to the Beetle Bug. A rapid fire of "Me's" was screamed out, along with an equally rapid fire of I'm going to finish the movie. So with out any further ado, Melissa, Robyn, Meg, and Linda Rose went to the grocery store. Melissa, in all of her over worked, under paid, college degree grocery store experience, got the Pack and their two completely filled baskets to the check out in under an hour. Being the smart Packers that they were, they moved past those customers gathered at one register, and right up to one of the four registers with no waiting. The cashier looked less then amused to have to check out two baskets but the pack was determined to change that. After all, with his balding head, he looked quite a bit like a certain someone. The foursome bounced right up to him. "Hi!" Linda Rose greeted. "How are you?" "You from out of Town?" Melissa added. "Do you like cappuccinos?" Meg asked. "What's your favorite song?" Robyn asked. The cashier for some reason looked very frightened as he began scanning the items. He appeared more frightened when they started bouncing in rhythm to the beeping while carrying on at least 5 different conversations, he guessed. "Paper or plastic?" The bagger asked. "Whatever," the Pack replied in unison. Whether it was because the cashier and bagger were incredibly good at their job, or else they were just wanted to get the girls out, they were rolling the now 3 baskets of bagged groceries to the Beetlebug. "Is it going to fit?" Robyn asked, as she opened the trunk. "Of course it is!" Melissa said as she started piling the bags in the trunk. Although they had to sit on it, the trunk closed. After an equally as quick trip home to the liquor store, they returned to the apartment. With the help of the rest of the pack, it only took 2 trips each to get the groceries up as well. Somewhere during all the chaos, "Taming of the Shrew" ended and Judy grabbed "Boys from Syracuse" out of the pile and stuck it in. -*************************** Pour the cappucinnos friends. Smoke them if you have them. It's poetry time. Again. -LaCroix "Forever Knight" ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IQEo-0001pm-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 01:32:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9335; Sun, 22 Aug 99 01:29:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3622; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 01:29:59 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 00:25:05 -0500 Reply-To: Melissa White Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Melissa White Subject: WAR: NP: Cappucinno Madness 2/2 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a2f4f94516aecb3c91ac97fba3d30c61 The members of the NatPack bounced around the kitchen, lining up the cappuccino ingredients on any available counter space, which was getting less and less, so they started putting the over flow on the table. =20 "Do you think Natalie has enough mugs?" Lynn asked opening a cupboard containing nothing but mugs.=20 "I don't think that's going to be a problem," Debra Ann, replied, as she pulled out three 100 count packages of big Styrofoam cups. =20 Lady Angst grabbed the package from her and ripped it open and began stacking the cups in a pyramid formation. "The person who knocks this down getting a cup, gets to take out the trash!" She announced with a= giggle.=20 "Can someone find me a pot?" Janet yelled over the numerous conversations, "I can be in charge of the super mysterious hot chocolate brigade" In less then a minute, someone tossed a pot in her general direction. "Thanks!" "How bout some marshmallows?" Judy wondered, meandering through the pack to search through cabinets. =20 "Anyone know how to work one of these things?" Jill asked, scrutinizing the little machine every which way. =20 "It's been a while since I used it but, you pour the water in, fill the little basket with coffee, let that brew, then turn the knob the other way to steam the milk," Natalie explained. =20 "And then pour it in a cup with all the fun ingredients!" Maureen concluded.= =20 "Who's going to go first?" Robyn asked. "How bout we let James since he kinda stands out from the rest of the pack anyway," Meg said with a grin. =20 "um..." James stammered, "Ok. Can someone grab me some chocolate, Irish cr=E8me, and Kaluah?" Various hands passed over the requested ingredients. He turned started the coffee and in no time the brown liquid filled the carafe. Disaster struck when it was time for the milk. He turned the steamer on then put the cut of milk up to be steamed. Instead of being steamed, the milk ended up all over the kitchen, as well as all over the pack.=20 "Um, I think you're supposed to put the milk up there then turn it on?" Meg suggested. =20 James shrugged and continued making his cappuccino. That done, he poured all his=20 ingredients in the cup and took a sip?" "Well?" The NatPack collective wanted to know. "It's good!" James announced. =20 The NatPack bounced around and made joyful noises. =20 "Hey how about a weird ingredients contest!" Lady Angst shouted as she bounced. "Let's see who can put together the most creative ingredients and it still tastes decent." "Who's to say what tastes decent?" Lynn wanted to know. =20 Every head of every Packer turned in the direction of Dr. Natalie Lambert. = =20 So one by one the NatPack made their idea of the perfect cup of cappuccino and pretty soon they were highly caffeinated and bouncing all over the place. =20 "I can bounce higher then you can!" Robyn yelled in Linda Rose's direction. "No way!!! I can out bounce you any day!" Linda Rose retaliated. =20 "NATALIE!!" They both yelled in unison. =20 Natalie, ever the diplomat, said, "I think you are both bouncing= beautifuly." =20 -*************************** Pour the cappucinnos friends. Smoke them if you have them. It's poetry time. Again. -LaCroix "Forever Knight" ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IQfV-0004tT-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 01:59:49 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7207; Sun, 22 Aug 99 01:57:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4658; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 01:57:38 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 01:59:21 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Kitty Mania (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ba56f02427eeae6e13f21f66efa683d9 Title: Kitty Mania (1/1) Author: Shelley , with permission from all used Time: Around 9pm Date: Tuesday, August 17th Concurrent with "DP: Here Kitty, Kitty" Edgar and Cordelia sat at the entrance to CERK, enjoying the = fresh night air. They were enjoying this war very much as they = had many places to explore and have fun in. They missed their = mommy of course, but knew they would be back with her soon. = Life was good for the two cats housed temporarily at CERK. They = purred contentedly to show their happiness. As they watched people passing by on the street, they became aware of two rather odd acting humans coming their way. These particular humans seemed to be half walking/half running, and laughing = hysterically in a very un-catlike manner. Edgar watched with = interest as they came ever closer, while Cordelia kept on purring, = seeing no reason to stop. "Hey, lets see how long it takes to run around the circumference of Toronto" one of the humans said, laughing manically. "Okay, then can we relax by swimming across Lake Ontario?" the = other one asked, twitching in the face. "Yeah, okay, then more coffee!" the first one responded with glee. Edgar, in typical cat fashion, decided that he had seen enough of the undignified behavior and began to lick his paws. Humans could be so odd, he reflected while cleaning his face. No wonder cats were so superior. Cordelia watched the strange humans stop in front of her and Edgar, and giggle manically while whispering to one another. Idly, she wondered what all the fuss was about. It was then that she noted, with some interest, that the twitching one was holding out a hand = with something in it to her. Getting up and stretching lazily so = as to not seem *too* interested, she sauntered closer to get a good = whiff. Edgar was doing the same thing. "Herekittykittykiiiiiity" one of them said at top speed, while the = other burst into fits laughter while jumping up and down. The powder smelled a bit strange, but it wasn't offensive. It = actually reminded the feline pair of some strange, exotic catnip. Or maybe tuna that had sat in the bowl too long. It was hard to tell. As they began to lick it off the offered palm, the taste grew more to their liking with each tongue-full. Cordelia began to think it must be her favorite cat food flavor, while Edgar = became convinced it was more like Pounce Cat Cookies. = Whatever it was, the pair managed to lick every granule off the = twitching one's hand. Almost at once, Edgar decided he needed to run into CERK and = explore every inch all over again. He realized on his way in = that he had neglected to sniff and explore the walls and ceilings. He made a mental note to begin climbing the walls as soon as = possible, perhaps in the next few seconds. Cordelia, on the other hand, decided she needed no more of this fresh air, it was making her feel decidedly *odd*. Upon = entering CERK, she noted with a fair amount of interest that she = could leap on the Cousinly Receptionist's desk and back down to = the floor in less than a second. Deciding that practice makes = perfect, she continued her jump until she had it down to only = 1/10th of a nano-second. The Cousinly Receptionist did not seem = overly happy about her accomplishment, much to Cordelia's surprise. Humans were strange sometimes. ----------------------------------- "Um, Arletta?" Shelley asked, staring at Cordelia and Edgar. "Yes?" Arletta answered. "Have you noticed anything *odd* about the cats?" "No, why?" "Well, Edgar has been chasing his tail for 30 minutes and Cordelia is running backwards..." Shelley replied, pointing at the pair. Just as Arletta looked up, Edgar began doing backflips in an = attempt to catch the elusive tail. Cordelia, tiring of running = backwards,began to run at the window, climbing the curtains at = full speed. "Yeah, I see what you mean", Arletta replied. "Maybe = too much catnip?" she asked. "I didn't give them any...I didn't even know we had any" Shelley = answered. "Besides, does catnip do *that*?!?!" she asked, pointing to Cordelia who was now running on top of the window frame and = attempting to leap to the door frame. Edgar was busy chasing his = tail from one bed, to the dresser, to the light fixture in the = ceiling, then back to the other bed. Looking rather concerned, Arletta tried calling the pair over to her. She was completely ignored, which was normal. "I think = they'll be okay", she said. "One of the other Cousin's must have = slipped them some catnip. A LOT of catnip". "Yeah, I guess" Shelley replied, still watching the antics of the felines.= From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IQqt-0002xh-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 02:11:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0874; Sun, 22 Aug 99 02:04:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5565; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 02:04:34 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 02:06:17 EDT Reply-To: KaAG@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Karen Gunther Subject: WAR:URCHINS:Exploring Life 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0ec9be14b749988669f6f6c12d82fc78 Exploring life Exploring Life (or what have the Urchins been up to?) When: Friday afternoon Where: a park along the harbour Who: Urs and the urchins "So what's on the menu tonight" Urs stretched and ran her fingers through her short blond curls, squinting in the bright sun at her companions who were both stretched on blankets on the grass. It had been an idylic week... afternoons baking in the summer sun, evenings exploring the many restaurants and clubs around Toronto. "Hmmm. What sounds good?" Karen asked, setting the headphones to her CD player on the grass between them. "You two are the experts." Urs said with an impatient shrug. "I could tell the difference between A positive and A negative a week ago, and today you want me to choose between Chinese and Thai?" "Well, what has agreed with you best?" she rolled over on her stomach, exposing the newly healed tattoo on her shoulder. "You've looked a little green after some of our more exotic meals." "Or is she green for some other reason?" Trish interrupted. "What other reason?" Karen asked and then remembered the party last weekend ... or at least the next morning... ***flashback*** Hearing the door slam in the next room, Karen opened one eye and squinted at the clock. Hearing Urs mumbling to herself, she decided to get up and see what was so upsetting. At the soft 'come in' to her knock, Karen opened the door cautiously. The blond former vampire was sitting on the edge of the bed, cradling her head in her hands and moaning. "You're up awfully early, Urs." She observed and then noticing that she still had on the same outfit from the party, she smiled knowingly. "Or should I say, awfully late?" Urs met her speculative gaze and smiled. "I saw how you looked at Miklos... so still exploring all those advantages of mortal feelings?" "If you want to call it an advantage..." she groaned and flopped back on the bed. "How much tequila DID you drink?" Karen asked with concern. "I don't know. A lot." "OK, Hangover 101" she said briskly. "Trust me, I have a lot of experience in this area. Just ask my sorority sisters from college." She stood, as if to leave. "I'll get you a tall latte and some water, and then we'll go bake ourselves. You need to learn to joys of a sunny day." After waking up Trish and grabbing a large iced coffee, the Urchins settled themselves on the lawn, stretching out on blankets. "So... enjoying the, umm, change in status?" "Oh yeah.. some things are sooo much better after a century." She gave her companions a secretive smile. "Then why were you so upset?" Karen questioned. "Well, it's been a really long time since I needed to worry about such things... and I was not exactly thinking straight... and, well..." she stammered. "You didn't use any protection." Trish concluded. "Yeah" she admitted. "Oh, what am I going to do?" "For starters, stop with the angst routine. You don't want us confusing you with a certain other ex-vampire." Karen scolded. "And second, we don't even know if it is possible. Jeez, your hormones have to be really messed up after all this time. And finally, we don't know if this change is permanent." "So, in other words... we'll worry about it tomorrow" they all laughed. "So, is it possible?" Urs asked. "Possible, yes. Probable, I doubt." Karen said firmly. "I think we've just been stressing your system too much." "I agree. I think we could use a quiet evening at the mansion." Trish added "Quiet? With the antics of those demons running amok, I don't think that's possible." Urs laughed. "But it would be fun to spend some time with the DP's. After all, they were kind enough to let us stay here while my apartment is being painted. And besides, we have to decide what we'll sing at the party Saturday night." "Oh, nooooo... I *do not* sing in public." Karen declared firmly. "Uh huh." Urs and Trish said in unison. "We'll see about that!" Urs teased. **fin** From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IR1Q-0005MJ-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 02:22:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0908; Sun, 22 Aug 99 02:16:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6066; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 02:16:21 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 02:18:10 EDT Reply-To: KaAG@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Karen Gunther Subject: WAR:URCHINS:and the urchins sing 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: db28fc7f9351ad6a8dab77b3046a89a9 And the Urchins sing... Timeline: Saturday night at Vaq's party Rae and Urchins used with permission Knocking on the door, Karen called out, "Hey, you ready?" "Yeah, come in." Trish called out. Doing a double take, she took him Karen's outfit for the party... black jeans and a dark pink silk blouse. "No one is going to believe we did not plan this." She laughed, stepping out of the bathroom, to reveal her own attire- black jeans and a dark pink tee shirt. "Well we aren't exactly alike." Karen shrugged. "Yeah, your nose is the same color as your shirt." She said dryly. "Ever heard of sunscreen?" "Nag, nag, nag. You sound like my mother." Karen said impatiently. "Come on." After meeting Urs downstairs in the living room, they hopped into the waiting taxi (no designated driver amongst this group) and headed off to the party. The buzz of conversations and music could be heard for several blocks, before they arrived at the former Nunkies headquarters, now occupied by the Vaqueras. The Pitted Peach looked a lot different this year... not that any of them had really spent much time there. "Come on" Urs urged, pulling her companions over to the bar. Waving to the bartender, she called out, "three margaritas, jumbo." Handing a glass to each of the Urchins, she said, "they have the best margaritas... or so I've been told." After finding a table in easy view of the stage, they settled in to watch the talents of their fellow war-players. *** Three margaritas later, none of the Urchins were feeling any pain. Truth be told, they weren't feeling much of anything. But they were having fun checking out the male guests (and making observations not fit for a PG-13 list) and giggling inappropriately at the singing abilities of the other factions. "Come on." Urs commanded, pulling them to a standing position and nodding toward the stage. "Oh no, no you don't.." Karen said, grabbing the table. "I am not going to sing!" "Come on. Its not like you live here... Its all in fun." Trish urged, holding her by the elbow to follow Urs to the side of the stage where she was talking to Rae. "So, what are we singing?" Karen asked, worried that it would be country or rap... the only two musical styles that she never listened to. "It's by a Canadian band... the Cowboy Junkies... easy tune." Urs said confidently. Heck, singing with a karaoke machine was easier than dancing... Rae motioned for them to take the stage, eyeing the matching outfits - black jeans, pink shirts and major sunburns... "And now... Urs and the Urchins will present their version of 'Miles from our home'" Starting softly, they stumbled through the first verse but by the time they got to the first chorus 'Any yet people keep saying, I'm miles from my home, miles from my home', they were belting it out. Maybe a little off key... OK, a lot off key... but with enthusiasm.. that grew as they got to the last verse "The moon hangs like a question mark, pale as moon, bold as a promise. When will you share these sights with us? When will we hold you in our arms?' and little too much enthusiasm, as they sang the last chorus and stumbled off the stage ... in search of more margaritas... **fin** From - Sun Aug 22 09:29:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IRMc-0003pz-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 02:44:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9549; Sun, 22 Aug 99 02:42:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6661; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 02:42:07 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 23:44:01 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--Family To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: aed3fae6aa1b7583cc8386c952fe2445 22 Aug 1999 The Peach Toronto, ON During the Karaoke Party Disclaimer: I don't own these songs, yada, yada, yada. . . Thanks to my Vaq Amiga Rae for finding the lyrics! Family By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia Felicia led the way over to Juan, who was still sitting quietly at the bar. Gio, the loquacious Italian bar keep was humming "That's Amore" as he wiped the bar down. Juan looked up. Seeing the Vaq Adjutant looking so determined, he was immediately worried. "Juan! What are ya doin' just sitting here, sha?" He gave her a puzzeled look. Vachon sighed. "Another Louisiana thing," he explained. "Yeah, what does that one mean, Twink," Teresita asked. "Oh. Sorry. Sha is from the French word 'chere', dear. I keep forgetting y'all don't know Louisianaspeak." Sarah laughed. "I'll add that to my 'Olivier to English Translation Guide', she said. The petite Cajun just grinned. "Ohhhh, I like that! My name in print. . ." "We've created a monster," Vachon mumbled. Felicia chose to ignore him. "Anyway, c'mon, Juan, you're overdue on stage." "Oh, I don't think so, Felicia. I don't really sing well and I was. . ." "No arguments! Come on, we really need you on this one." She used her most winning smile. The Inca looked over her head at his twin, who simply shrugged. "Okay, okay. I may regret this, but I'll come with you." "Great," the Vaq Twins said in unison. They moved to the stage and Teresita grabbed the microphone. "All Vaqueras and Vaqueros to the stage please!" There was a moment of silence, and then mumbling and shuffling. The Vaqs assembled in front of the Vaq Wonder Twins. They looked dubious. "What's going on now," Cliff asked. Teresita said, "Huddle" and all troopers moved in close. The plan explained, they moved on stage. Rae cued the music, and announced, "This one is for all of us, because as Fans, we're part of a larger family. But, we're gonna change the lyrics slightly to suit us. We hope everyone joins in." They arranged themselves on the stage with Vachon and Juan in the middle. The music began: We are family, I got my Vaq faction with me. We are family, get up everybody and sing!! We are family, I got my Vaq faction with me. We are family, get up everybody and sing!! Everyone can see we're together, as we walk on by. And we flock just like Vaqs in black leather, I won't tell no lie. All of the people around us they say, can they be that close? Just let me state for the record, we're givin' love in a family dose. We are family, I got all my Vaq faction with me. We are family, get up everybody and sing!! We are family, I got all my Vaq faction with me. We are family, get up everybody and sing!! Livin' life is fun and we just begun, to get our share, of this *war's* delights. High hopes we have, for the future, and our goals insight. We don't get depressed, here's what we call our golden rule. 'Have faith in you and the things you do, you won't go wrong oh no, this is our family jewel.' We are family, I got my Vaq faction with me. We are family, get up everybody and sing!! We are family, I got my Vaq faction with me. We are family, get up everybody and sing!! We are family, I've got my Vaq faction with me. Everybody! We are family, get up everybody and sing!! As they filed off, Juan was grinning from ear to ear. "I'm glad I trusted, you guys. Thanks for including me." Vachon turned and slung an arm around his shoulders. "They may be a bit. . .overzealous, I guess, but they mean well." They meandered past the tables, and didn't spot the two men sitting near at one near the stage. Goatee turned to Shades. "Isn't this the same place we were in just a couple of days ago," he asked. Shades nodded and looked around. "Seems like they changed the decor a little." "A little?" The next singer was called, and a tall, thin woman with long brown hair stepped up. She began to sing "That Don't Impress Me Much." Shades grabbed Goatee's arm. "Oh, my God! It's Shania! What's she doing in a place like this? Her career must be shot. This is *huge*." Both men quickly pulled out their cellular phones. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2, Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!) Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sun Aug 22 09:30:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IRzB-0004uN-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 03:24:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9617; Sun, 22 Aug 99 03:21:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7586; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 03:21:59 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 17:23:46 +1000 Reply-To: TALIESYN@C031.AONE.NET.AU Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Alexander J. Braun" Organization: access one Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: A Lamantation of Ravens To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: edcebc3583903f785b47bc36cddd25f3 Title: A Lamantation of Ravens Place: The Raven Time:Saturday morning very early A van pulled up to the Raven just before dawn the driver got out and knocked on the door Alex who had been waiting for an hour opened the door. "Are you Mr A J Braun?" "Yes give me the paper work and I'll sign for it" The driver gave Alex the papers to sign the he went to the back of the van and opened the doors. Alex asked the driver "Did you deliver the other packages to the other address first?" "Yeh I did he read the letter that was on one of the packages he said for mr to tell you he understood and it will be completed in an hour" Alex smiled an evil smile that LaCroix would have been proud to see. The driver started to get in the back "No wait I'll need to take them to two different location first, don't worry you'll get a bonus" The driver nodded and closed the van doors and walked around to the drivers cab. "Just wait a minute I have to get some one else" Alex raced in side and saw Alma and Claudia "Quick you both are coming with me" Alma looked at Alex "Why?" "To cause mischief what else!" Alma and Claudia both looked at each other smiled and both said "Kewl" Thirty minutes later arriving at Nicks Loft Alma and Claudia hopped out one side the driver and Alex on the other side they heard a low buzzing noise fading away. "What was that?" Claudia asked, "That is one part of the mischief I'll explain it all when we get back to the club" They went to the back of the van opened the doors and saw two large wire cages with a large number of ravens in both. "Bring this one out then open the cage door" said Alex Claudia looked at the birds "Alex won't they just all fly away when the cage door is opened?" "Nah, if you look around Nicks loft what do you see?" Claudia and Alma both looked around and then saw scattered every where small little yellow candy bricks"What are these?" "These the ravens love to eat and as long as there some around they will stay in the area to feed on them and maybe cause a bit of mischief, you know what ravens are like" laughed Alex. Claudia, Alma and Alex got the cage in position and opened the cage door all the ravens in that cage flew out wheeled around then landed all over nicks loft and started picking on the small candy scattered around. "They are causing a bit of a mess and some noise" Alma said "I hope Nick notices the symbolism the ravens eating the yellow candy bricks" replied Claudia "Where next?" "Going to Natalie Lambert's place" They closed the van doors then went back in to the drivers cab and drove to the next destination, when they arrived at Natalie Lambert's apartment they saw the little yellow candy bricks scattered around the place it only took a few minutes to release the ravens in the other cage afterwards the van driver drove them back to the club, as they walked in it was about eight o'clock and the other ravenettes had started to get up. "What have you all been up to?" Kimberly said when she saw Alex, Claudia and Alma entered the Raven. "Wait till you hear what we have done" cried Claudia "It's great!" Kimberly looked at Alex who had a big smile on his face "You did plan this?" "Yes" said Alex as he walked to the bar for a glass of wine. "Isn't that a bit early in the morning for that?" Chandra asked, "Not when you've been busy causing some mischief" replied Alex. Kimberly asked "Ok spill it what have you done?" "Well I had arranged at the start of the war for curtain supplies as I thought they may come in handy, a supply of candy, small, yellow and in the shape of a brick and a lot of ravens" "Ravens talking about birds?" Kimbery asked. "Oh yes, what I had done is the packages of candy were delivered to a person who has a powered ultralite and he has scattered the candy over the two targets, the ravens love the candy and will stay around to feed on it and cause a nuisance" Alex replied after taking a drink from the wine glass. "What two targets?" Kimberly & Caroline asked, "Nick's loft and Natalie Lambert's place" replied Alex grinning. Kimberly and Caroline looked at each other and smiled "Perfect let me by you a drink Alex" Caroline said, Kimberly and Caroline both walked to the bar, "I love the symbolism of the prank" Kimberly said, "I thought you would" Alex replied. "Wait won't the birds, the ravens fly away after awhile?" Caroline asked "No, I have paid the guy with the ultralite to do the same thing every morning just before dawn until the supplies finish" Alex said after getting a refill of wine. "How long will the supply's last?" Lorna asked, "Depends on Janette's credit card limit, two packages are delivered each day and as Janette has a platinum card, Nick and his Knighties and the Nat Packers might have to get used to the ravens", now Alex was showing a evil grin. -- Alex Braun - Taliesyn@c031.aone.net.au - ICQ # 12610993 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe". Marcus, B5 From - Sun Aug 22 09:30:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11ISyN-0006X4-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 04:27:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9697; Sun, 22 Aug 99 04:25:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9013; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 04:25:17 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 01:27:06 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: War: NA: Hell Hath No Fury... (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 11736953a4dd36e1e67cc96057afdc33 NA: Hell Hath No Fury Like A Mother That Just Took A Look At Her Credit Card Bill (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: late morning Tuesday August 17, 1999 Place:the church (the current residence of NA) Permissions: Ivy said she wanted to be in this post... I swear she did, just ask her! So did my mom, Father Scully, and my best friend Kate. ************************* Evil Cousin Tiff and Ivy sat at the table not doing much. Ivy was reading a book, and Tiff was scribbling notes in her planning notebook... probably for the interviews she had to conduct in the next couple days for the doc. The Toenotes were off fixing their hair somewhere. *rrrriiiiiinnnnnngggg* *rrrriiiiiinnnnnngggg* "Did you hear that?" Ivy asked. "Um, I think so," Tiff replied. "It sounds like a phone. "I didn't know the church has a phone." "Neither did I." "Well I guess one of us should get it." Tiff shrugged. They both began looking for the phone. Ivy found it, and picked up. "You have reached the Our Lady of Eternal Nunkies Church.... oh, um... hang on, I'll get her." Ivy covered the mouth piece and leaned over to Tiff. "It's your mom. She's sounds really ticked." Tiff took the phone. "Hi, mom!" "Don't you 'hi, mom' me," her mother replied. "Mom, how did you get this number?" "I went over to your apartment, and Kate was there feeding your animals. She gave me the number to some place called the Shrine. I called there and some man gave me this number." Tiff was going to kill someone for that. "You've had me worried sick. Where are you?" "Toronto." "What in the world are you doing in Toronto?" "I'm filming a documentary." "You're what?!? Wait a second. You're in Toronto... would mind explaining this $453 charge to America Express card from the airline!" "Um... they didn't refund the money back to the card?" "Who didn't refund what money? Explain yourself." "I, uh, used your card to buy my plane ticket to to Toronto." "You did what?!?" "But I didn't take a plane, they should've refunded the money back to the card... I swear. I thought they refunded the money." "Well they didn't. And what this about $75 Canadian at some salon?!?" "I, uh, needed lots of hair-care products. You know how I am about my hair, mom." "Yes, and I know that if it won t turn your hair into some Kool Aid color, you won t pay more than two dollars for it." "Well, I, uh... It's hard to explain." "When you get home you're going to explain! When are you coming home?" "End of next week." Tiff's mother's voiced calmed as she took in a deep breathe. Her caring m aternal instincts started to kick in. "Are you okay with hotel and everything?" "Yeah, I've got a place to stay." "I'm glad to see you're going to church there. Father Scully will be glad to hear it." Tiff thought. "Mom, I've got to go. I've got a documentary to film." "Okay, I love you, sweety. Don't get into too much trouble." Tiff sighed recalling the past few days. "I'll try not to." "I love you." "I love you, too." Tiff hung up. Ivy sat across from her, giggling. "You didn't tell your mom you were going to Toronto, did you?" "I forgot. And I'm not telling her I'm in the middle of a war either. She'd be on a plane to drag me home as we speak!" "Ha!" "That's an over-protective mother, for ya! Good thing she didn't see that $4500 charge I made on her platnum mastercharge," Tiff concluded as they both went back to what it was they were doing before. ************************* Fin *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Sun Aug 22 09:30:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11ITHB-0006wW-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 04:46:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9740; Sun, 22 Aug 99 04:44:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9842; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 04:44:41 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 01:46:30 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: War: NA: Journal of a Filmaker (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ff090f91a84127f30d48f2880fe487e7 NA: Journal of a Filmaker (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: afternoon Thursday August 19, 1999 Place: Our Ladies of Eternal Nunkies Church, inside Evil Cousin Tiff's Journal ************************ Thursday, August 19, 1999 Day 7,039 Toronto Sorry I haven't written since April. Been kinda busy as of late. I'm in Toronto now. Fighting in a war. Well, not exactly fight-ing. More along the lines of creating mischeif and a documentary. YUP! I've gotten off my butt and started to move my film career forward with a documentary. Isn't it great?!? I've even got a film crew. They work for free. you ask. I'll tell ya. Remember back in Novemeber when I boched that chem lab? Well, the stuff that I ended up making instead of the asprin powder is great... I can whammy people with it! But I've already told you that, so I'm shutting up now. No, I'm not.--I lied. I used the trance powder to whammy the Temperate Toenotes! Isn't it great?!? Bwa ha ha. Just let me asure you that they'll never do another concert ever again! Bwa ha ha. Bwa ha ha! BWA HA -- Sorry... Anyway, when I got to Toronto, I found that the Dark Perks were actually displaying Nunkies in Repose out in public, like announcing that they stole it or something... so I took it back... and I got arrested for it! Eew. So anyway my faction bailed me out. And I'm back to documentary filming. Did I mention I'm using the Toenotes as my film crew. They suck at music, but they sure can lift all that heavy equipment. Thank Gawd too, because I tried to lift the one light that Travis holds all day, and I almost broke my back! I don't think my body could take it. I'm sure glad I accidentally invented trance powder. Although, there is that problem where they never want to leave my side for a second... and the whinning. I've never seen a bunch of grown men whine so much... le sigh. I guess I should just tell them that it'll all be over soon. I know I'm lying... but they don't. Hehehehe. Oh, gawd here they come. I gots to go. Hasta la bye-bye! ************************* The End? *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Sun Aug 22 09:30:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IVgh-0003HR-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 07:21:23 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1445; Sun, 22 Aug 99 07:19:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4416; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 07:19:11 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 04:23:44 -0700 Reply-To: Teresita Tazon Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Teresita Tazon Organization: Forever Knight-Vaquera w/ T&V tendencies Subject: WAR: VAQS; Musicians Extraordin'AIR' 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 91eeba6722305ca1ccdb66f169cfd495 WAR: VAQS Musicians Extraordin'AIR' 1/1 The Pitted Peach Saturday Aug. 21, 1999, Sometime in the middle of the fun *Disclaimers can be found at the end of the story.* NEW WEB SITE; "Karaoke at the Pitted Peach; The Vaq Jukebox" is located at http://www.computeralliesinc.com/karaoke.html Go there to hear the MIDI file for 'Johnny B. Goode' Special thanks to our Tech Maverick Vaq; Scott Greer. He made this idea a reality. (Can you have reality in a virtual war?) Musicians Extraordin'AIR' 1/1 By Vaq Scribe #1; Teresita, of The Troublesome "T"s The Vaquero/a Karaoke Party was in full swing. It looked like everyone was having fun. It was a night full of wine, women or men (reader's choice), and song. Tabitha and Teresita, two of the three "T"s, sat at the bar. Meticulously laid out on the polished wood before them were, if not respected or handled properly, the makings for 'death by alcohol'. Both were glad the Vaqs were hosting this particular gathering. Neither of them would have to drive afterwards. "Ready Tabs?" asked Teresita as she poured Jose Cuervo Gold into the two double-shot glasses. Tabitha nodded dubiously, "I think so. Go ahead." Teresita licked the skin between her forefinger and thumb on the back of her left hand. She shook salt on the damp patch where it clung there until she needed it. A small dish filled with cut lime wedges was within easy reach. "This is how it's done, mi amiga." Teresita licked her hand again, this time transferring the salt to her mouth. The tequila was gulped without a second's hesitation, while the Vaq Wonder Twin reached for a chunk of lime. Teresita bit quickly into the juicy fruit and slammed the now empty glass back on the bar with a thud. Teresita's eyes watered for minute, making her worry about losing her contacts. She dabbed carefully at them to avoid contacts and make-up both. (Yes, even Vaqueras wear make-up.) Finally, catching her breath, Teresita turned to Tabitha with grin. "Learned that at a place in Baja California where they have a hot springs pool and the smoothest tequila on earth," she bragged. "In fact, it's homemade, and when they make a fresh batch," Teresita paused for effect, "they use a real rattlesnake in place of the worm! Hence, the smoothness in their tequila." (True story, so help me God.) "Okay, it's your turn!" "I don't know about this, Ter. Isn't there another way to do the salt bit?" Tabs asked as Javier came up to them. "Aah, tequila. Good choice, ladies," Vachon said as he pulled up a bar stool. The two Vaqs hurriedly scooted apart so Javier could sit in the middle. The bartender, Giovanni, brought a shot glass over to Javier. It was rumored that the dark-haired Italian immigrant ran a still when he wasn't tending bar. Vachon thought the man looked vaguely familiar, and blinked at the guy, who blinked right back. Vachon muttered, "No way... Couldn't be... Not again...". Giovanni shook his head as he returned to wiping a rather large puddle of water on the other end of the bar. "You were about to give it try, weren't you Tabs," said Vachon, filling his own glass. "She doesn't want to lick her hand for the salt." Teresita supplied helpfully. "Allow me." Before Tabitha could protest, Javier had handed her one of the still full glasses, and grasped her empty hand. Looking up, Jav caught her gaze. He smiled as he raised Tab's hand to his mouth. A quick warm swipe, and then he was sprinkling salt on the spot. He did the same for himself. "Here's looking at you, kid," said Javier Bogart. This guy loved quotes. It was too bad his impressions were so, well...unimpressive. Tabitha smiled shyly back, and almost without realizing how it all happened, matched Vachon's movements, sending the fiery liquid down her throat. Not coughing or choking, as she had expected, Tabitha stated, "Pretty good stuff." She held her hand out to Vachon, saying, "Let's do it again." Teresita, not wanting to be left out, did the same. Javs took the two feminine hands held out to him, and repeated the procedure twice more, and then all three knocked back another shot. Teresita signaled Giovanni and ordered a round of cervezas de Corona for herself and her friends. The two Vaqueras didn't mind sharing Vachon. Everyone knew Javier didn't have "cooties" or anything. (It was likely that Vachon was the cleanest (ex)vamp in town. Vampires didn't get sick with mortal diseases, and Javier hadn't contracted anything in the past week or so. He brushed and flossed as outlined by Dental Association guidelines, and it was well known there was a shower in the bathroom at the Church. Prior to that, he had just gone to Tracey's place.) Conversation turned to the day before. Vachon and Tammy, another Vaquera of Troublesome "T" fame, had held an impromptu jam-session. After getting the sound system working its best, they had enjoyed themselves considerably. "That electric guitar of Tammy's was one of the best I've ever played." enthused Vachon. "I've played them all since they were first invented, and her's is even better than Chuck's." "Chuck? Chuck who?" Tabitha inquired. "Wait, Jav. Don't say anything, yet. I bet I know!" Teresita jumped up from her seat. "Come on!" She winked at Tabs as she tugged Vachon towards the stage. "We'll show you who Chuck is." she called gaily back to her friend. The tequila and beer gave Teresita even more than her usual amount of courage. Keeping Javier close, she nodded to her Vaq Wonder Twin. Catching on to Ter's plan, Felicia hurried to retrieve Tammy's gorgeous guitar. "Tams said any Vaq could use it. She only gave permission to us. Be careful with it and put it back when you're done." Felicia said, plugging the guitar into its amp. She handed the guitar to Vachon, "Have fun, _Javy_!" The last karaoke singer had just finished, and Teresita took her place on stage. Javier followed her, pondering about what his Wonder Twins were up to now. <_Javy_?> He saw the ready light glowing green on the machine and Teresita picked up a microphone, "Okay Vaqs. Play 'em, if ya got 'em!" The music started and Vachon instantly recognized the tune. He started in with the guitars in the soundtrack, his notes overriding the machine's until you believed his was the only guitar being played. Teresita flashed a smile at Javs, as Felicia ran up on stage to join them. The Vaqueras each began to play a non-existent guitar more commonly referred to as an 'air-guitar'. Javier grinned at his Vaq-Brats, giving them a look that said, 'This is a surprise I can appreciate." The words appeared on the screen, but Ter didn't need them. She knew this one by heart. Felicia joined in, she and Teresita sharing the mic. **Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans, Way back up in the woods among the evergreens, There stood an old cabin by the swimmin' pond, Where lived a country boy named Javy Vachon. Who'd never, ever learned to read or write so well But he could play a guitar just like a ringin' a bell** ((Vaquero/as could be seen playing 'air' instruments throughout the bar. There were several guitar players, like Emma and Rae, who were strumming along. The one having the most fun however, was Javy Vachon. He really got into the guitar riffs when all the Vaqs launched into a chorus they somehow knew was coming.)) **Go! Go! // Go, Javy go! // Go! Go, Javy go! // Go! Go, Javy go! // Go! Go! Javy Vachon!** ((Tammy had acquired an air keyboard, and Tabs was playing her didje.)) **He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack, Oh, sit beneath the tree by the railroad track. Ol' engineer would see him sittin' in the shade, Strummin' with the rhythm that the drivers made. When people passed him by they would stop and say, "Oh, my, but that little country boy could play!"** ((Cliff, Scott, and Echo were having a 'battle of the drums' contest in the middle of the dance floor. Guests moved back a safe distance and gave them plenty of room.)) **Go! Go! // Go, Javy go! // Go! Go, Javy go! // Go! Go, Javy go! // Go! Go! Javy Vachon!** ((Vachon, backed by the Wonder Twins, let loose on the guitar. Tammy had gotten closer to the stage. She took on the piano portion of the riff.)) **His mother told him, "Someday you will be a man, And you will be the leader of a big old band. Many people comin' from miles around, To hear you play your music when the sun go down. Maybe some day your name will be in lights, Sayin' "Javy Vachon! Tonight!"** ((The Vaqs noticed members of other factions even singing along as the final chorus swelled.)) **Go! Go! // Go, Javy go! // Go! Go, Javy go! // Go! Go, Javy go! // Go! Go! Javy go, go, go! Javy Vachon!** Eyes shining, the three friends left the stage. Tammy joined them as they made their way back to the bar. Tabitha thoughtfully had mas tequila y cerveza waiting for the thirsty group. "You meant Chuck *Berry*," Tabitha had concluded. "Did you know him when he came up with that song?" Tammy asked. "It's like this, muchachas. You know the movie about the kid who goes back in time, to the fifties? McFry or Two-Ply, whatever his name was. How *he* was supposedly the one who came up with the song." The Vaqueras nodded. " Well, he wasn't really the one who inspired ol' Chucky. Music isn't always child's play. " Felicia gave a delicate shudder, "I liked those movies. Especially the fourth one." "I remember that one. That's when the Chuckster takes a wife." The Vaq Wonder Twins were at it again. Tammy and Tabitha shushed their compadres, and let Javier finish his story. "I know it wasn't him, because *I* wrote the music for "Johnny B Goode"." "Why?" Teresita asked, as she noticed Felicia's silent sigh. "Because I could," he shrugged in reply. The Vaq Brats groaned. "What an awesome thing, Javs," Felicia said, the historian in her asserting itself. "I thought so." Teresita ordered another beer, and whispered to Giovanni, "How do we know it wasn't *really* McFlea?" Giovanni opened the bottle. Handing her the beer, he said, "Don'ta beleeve alla you's seez, Signorna. Theesa movees, the T-a V, or a beda-time storees...Remember, theysa *jeest* feekshun, *jeest* feekshun. Kapeesh?" -fin- Disclaimer: The copyright I found shows the song belongs to Arc Music Corp. I fiddled with it to fit my purpose, but have no rights to the song or music as they were meant be. The lyrics were found at Lyrics World webpage, I discovered the MIDI file on a Chuck Berry Homepage. The MIDI is publicly available and not this person's copyright, but I wanted to give you a link to a wonderful page. I appreciate and respect all of his hard work. http://www.homepages.ihug.co.nz/~mauricef/ Teresita, a Troublesome"T" Vaq Brat and Proud of It!, VWT, Vaq Scribe #1 "Come on, hit me with your best shot! Fire away!" "Mi alma es Vaquera"="My soul is Vaquera" ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Sun Aug 22 09:30:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IXIn-0006MK-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 09:04:49 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7898; Sun, 22 Aug 99 09:02:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6668; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 09:02:39 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 22:04:28 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: Another Quiet Sunday To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b908ea68a3cf6c419586b4b1e6ffb792 War: Enforcers: Another Quiet Sunday By Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) Fellow Enforcers used with permission Time: Sunday Morning 22 Aug ====================== Captain Raven sat at her desk contemplating all that had happened. They'd shaved Sydney, framed Tracy, de-styled Janette...all in all, a good first week. Raven started the coffee and looked around the HQ. In his office, the Shadowman was sleeping on his couch. It was funny, Raven thought, he'd never even sat on it when he was a vampire. Now it looked like he was attached to it. She sighed. Crumbs and pizza crusts were scattered around the room. She shook her head not believing that the normally tidy vampire would be such a slob as a mortal. Of course, he wasn't used to the big mess that food made if you weren't careful. She looked at him as he slept, so innocent looking. Quite deceiving. He even had a bit of pizza sauce still on his lip. If he wasn't careful, he'd gain a few pounds before this was all over. He'd definately learned alot about being mortal this past week. Maybe he'd be a bit easier on them then. She doubted it. The rest of the HQ was quiet, no one else having come in for the day yet. Surveillance reports indicated there was nothing big planned in the next few days, so she figured she had time. She picked up the pizza crusts, and threw them out. She pulled out the vacuumn and it roared to life. True to form, shadowman did not wake up. After cleaning his office, Raven returned to her own office. She heard the door open and Enid stumbled in, bleery eyed and bloodshot. "What the hell happened to you?" Raven asked. "Um, I went to the Vaqueras party...it was fun," Enid said. "Great. Do you have a hangover?" Raven smiled. "You bet your ...." "Okay, we'll go easy on you today. Have some coffee," Raven sighed. Steve walked in soon after, whistling as he did. "Well," Raven said, "You seem in a really good mood. Just what did you do last night, as if I didn't know." Steve smiled a cheshire cat smile. "I went to the party last night. It was fun." "Yeah, Steve, tell her what *else* you did." Enid smiled. "Well, I didn't get drunk and dance on the tables, I'll tell you that." He looked at Enid pointedly. Enid put her hands over her mouth. "I didn't!" "No, it was just fun to say it," he said. "I seem to remember you left early, Steve, where did you go?" Enid asked. "I...had a wonderful night." He said. "Yeah," Enid said, "I said that suit looked good. I bet some other girl thought so too." "I refuse to comment on that..." Steve said, "What are the current plans, Raven?" "Well," Raven said, "There's not much on the table for the next few days. We could try some more mischief." "Sounds good," Enid said. "Well," Raven said, "Let's get started." ====================== Evil Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Sun Aug 22 10:49:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IYeM-0000lf-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 10:31:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8091; Sun, 22 Aug 99 10:28:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9475; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 10:28:59 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 10:30:53 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: WAR: DP: Going to the VAQ's Karoke Party To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5622a935512da3bb5ac04add6969c944 Approximately the same time frame as 'VAQ - Karoke Party - Everyone's Welcome" DP mansion Martin applies the last touches to his outfit and finds it perfect for the party; just the right combination of cool and subtle message. He adjusts his black duster for a final time, checks his jelled-back and bleached hair, and calls out to Andrea, "Andrea, are you ready to go yet." "Just a minute," Martin leans back against the door sill and waits. Soon Andrea comes down the staircase and he looks in surprise. To him, her look is near identical imitation of the character in question, from the black wig, and older fashioned white dress. "Luv, shall we be on our way." Martin tries out an English accent and fails miserably. Andrea assumes a vacent stare and clutches her doll protectively. They walk out of the mansion and practice their routine a bit. Martin helps Andrea into a black car, which he has borrowed for tonight only, and they are soon on the way. Soon they see a large sign for the Gutted Peach. Martin presses down the acellerater and runs down the sign with a gleeful look. He gets out and hands the keys to the horrified attendent, grinning broadly. "Thanks, sorry about the sign," But he looks nothing but horrified. "Let's go in And - Dru." _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Sun Aug 22 11:39:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IZex-00025t-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 11:35:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8350; Sun, 22 Aug 99 11:33:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2390; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 11:33:41 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 11:28:42 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: War: Cuz: Pretty In Pink, Gimme A Drink To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b786f7da1493d96a0bbdb1b02a76f9a4 PRETTY IN PINK, GIMME A DRINK! by Cousine Celeste Place: At the Toronto lock-up where the Cousins are being held After "Storming the Castle" and "In the Dungeon" Time: Wednesday, the 18th, late afternoon Cousinly Leader Tok and Cousin Shelley appear with permission.... Cousine Celeste stood in front of the Day Sargeant's desk at the precinct house where the ex-Whammized Cousins were being held in the drunk tank. She looked the gentleman in blue behind the desk straight in the eye and lied, lied, lied. "They were victims, I tell ya, *victims*!" "Mmm-hmmm," he muttered, disinterestedly. He idly turned the page of the bodice-ripper he was reading. It was Nicolas Chevalier's "Sweet Savage Souvlaki", wherein a team of food-lovin' gals find love and fine fast-food while running a diner owned by a spicy, sexy middle-aged couple, in a nameless Canadian city. The Cousine peered over the pencil cup and managed to catch a few paragraphs, which she read aloud: "'O, Schmanke! Schmanke, my hefty hunka-hunka burnin' love , my perfectly pleasingly plump paramour, my steady boyfriend in the prom of life!' said Schmyra, the lusty, busty middle-aged temptress clutching her darling detective, dandy Donnaldo, to her lusty, busty bosom. "'O, Schmyra! My One True Love(tm)! Here, partake of the chilled chopped chicken liver the gals have only just made, fulsome and fresh. No one but you can give us the go-ahead on whether or not it is fit for the delicious, delectable deli counter of The Snappy Souvlaki Diner and Grill, for your tastebuds are the finest, most educated and adorable tastebuds in this happy land called Canada.' Schmanke let go of his winsome wife for the nonce to snap off a snazzy salute in the general direction of the maple-leafed flag that hung over the dining area of The Snappy Souvlaki before returning to the ember-stirring embrace of his wife of fifteen years, Schmyra Schmanke. While Schmanke was thus momentarily engaged saluting, Schmyra had taken a delicate munch of the chopped chilled chicken liver. She gasped in admiration at the fulsome, feisty flavour. ''It is truly the finest chopped chicken liver in the land, my perfect precious pookie! Its yumminess is second only to the yearning yumminess of your luscious lips, my liver-lover!'" Celeste blinked at the page... then looked up at the desk sergeant. "Now, that's just *sick*," she said. The desk sergeant defensively pulled the book out of the line of view and stashed it in a drawer. "You were saying, miss?" he said politely. "Oh, yeah," said Celeste, getting back on track. Well, anyone who read Nicolas Chevalier books might just fall for what she was about to say, hook, line and sinker. It was worth a try. She took a deep breath, and began.... "Sir! You have a bunch of the finest women who ever lived stashed in your lockup, and what a miscarriage of justice it is," said Celeste, the merest quaver of self-righteousness creeping into her voice. "They were in the middle of staging 'The Sound of Music' for a local orphan asylum, comprised entirely of Canadian orphans I might add, when, between the first and second acts, that entire theater troop of swell gals stopped for a sip of what they thought was freshly-pressed apple cider -- warm apple cider being good for the vocal cords, you see," she snuck a look at the sergeant to see if the story was finding its mark, but he only blinked at her solemnly. "Unfortunately, what they'd accidentally gotten a hold of was some apple cider that had been in the sun a bit too long and turned into hard cider! And so, act two was never mounted, because these women, you see, are Mormons, and they had never touched alcohol before in their entire lives. It's no wonder they went nuts!" The desk sergeant raised a hand, cutting her off. "Miss, I'm not the judge or jury, I'm just the day sergeant! All ya gotta do is pay their bail, and they're free!" "Well, why didn't ya just say so," the Cousine muttered. She had kinda hoped to avoid actually having to hand over cash-money by getting everyone released on their own recogniscence, but it was not to be. She'd hit several ATMs along the way, using more than one of the incarcerated cousins' debit cards, to amass the envelope of Canadian money she now held. Tok was the first one who staggered out. She shivered under the blanket stamped "Property of the Toronto Police Department" that she clutched around her shoulders, still clad in her damp leder-hosen, but at least she'd stopped dripping. "Celeste!" she cried, rushing towards the Cousine. "You got my message!" A line of confused, damp, pink-stained Cousins followed her, similarly clutching blankets, blinking in the light of the fluorescent bulbs. They staggered over to the properties desk to pick up their belongings. "You mean that pathetic wail for help; yeah, I got it." She waved an almost-empty envelope at Tok and handed her the cash-cards. "Be sure to hand these out to their rightful owners. We found them in the clothes you guys left all over the place. 'Don't leave home without it!'" "I cannot wait to get out of here," Tok said, shuddering. "I have a few fully-stocked limos parked out front to make it all better, when you guys are ready. Just remember, Tok, you *owe* me one," said the Cousine. It would take but a few minutes to process the Cousins through the system, and then they'd all be free to go. "Oops, I think Shelley's still having a problem." "I can't give it to you, miss, it's probably a weapon and anyway, you don't seem all that *well*, if you ask me!" said the Properties Clerk. She had one end of a pitchfork, Cousin Shelley had the other, pointy, end, and a mini-tug-of-war was ensuing, the tag tied 'round the middle fluttering in the breeze that was kicked up. The potential for tragedy spurred the Cousine and Cousinly Leader to rush over to intervene. "I haf *need* of mine pitchfork," croaked Cousin Shelley, "I muzt zeek the evil Dr. Na--" "Shelley!" interrupted Tok before the Cousin could dig herself deeper into trouble. "Give the nice lady the pitchfork, we'll take on that little problem you have with the doctor some other way, at some other time!" She peeled Shelley's fingers off the sharpened tines gently. "We'll take care of her," Tok assured the Properties Clerk. The woman nodded gratefully and leaned the pitchfork against the wall behind the Properties Desk. Moments later, the tired-and-hungry Cousins filed out of the precinct house, their glad cries filling the air upon seeing the CERK limos, full of food and drink, lined up to receive them. They were so busy celebrating that they never noticed Cousin Shelley, pitchfork in hand, tag fluttering, sneaking away from them up the street. TO BE CONTINUED ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Sun Aug 22 11:51:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IZsG-0002Z4-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 11:49:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2084; Sun, 22 Aug 99 11:47:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2933; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 11:47:27 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 10:56:38 +0100 Reply-To: "Tracy S.Morris" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Tracy S.Morris" Subject: War:Vaq: Waking up (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: df2d75760c20e2723f2d046986d57e72 Time: Sunday morning, August 22 Place: Wherever the Vaqueros headquarters are on a sunday morning. Tracy Sue sat bolt-upright in her ugly pink sleeping bag. She had no idea where she was, which wasn't that unusual for a war. She looked around with wide, troubled eyes. Her dreams the previous night were terribly vivid. Had her parents taken her to the Grand Canyon? It seemed so real. She could even remember that terribly cute little red-and-grey mottled canyon squirril that snuck up to her, tried to pick her pocket, and then looked at her as if it expected a hand-out. She shook her head, and looked at the foot of her sleeping bag. A familiar little squirril sat patiently waiting on her to wake up. Tracy Sue felt her jaw drop. The squirril looked at her expectantly, as if to say 'okay, you got us here, now feed us.' She unzipped her sleeping bag, smiling distractedly. She didn't know how she was in two places at once. War Physics were something that was beyond her. Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Why? Because I'm a sucker for Vachon! From - Sun Aug 22 12:07:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ia7O-00035h-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 12:05:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8439; Sun, 22 Aug 99 12:03:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3604; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 12:03:05 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 12:04:43 -0400 Reply-To: STEPHANIE A JORDAN Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: STEPHANIE A JORDAN Subject: WAR: KNIGHTIES:Vaq Karaoke party To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 498f5b05e3bfdd9695a8d908668c4e08 Subject: Vaqueros Karaoke Party Time: Saturday Night Participants: Um me! She wasn't ready to venture out alone like this. Especially with all the other factions right there...After all she was just getting use to the nutty knighties she was staying with. After going through 3 different outfits Stephers decided on her long black skirt, a slinky grey tank top and her doc martens. "Oh yeah, i m ready to sing baby" She combed through her long hair once more and then made a run for it. "Looks like I m going to be late again"s She peered at the clock as she ran out the door.. *************************** "Hmm the Pitted Peach??, Who came up with that name?"Stephers walked through the door and was struck by the *ambience* of the place. To the right battered tables and chairs, to the left MORE battered chairs and tables.. "Wow."she tood there with her mouth agape. Aside from all the furniture they were people..more then she thought would make it...As she attempted to pull herself together she noticed a bar. She shook herself off and gingerly made her way up to it. "Um hello???" Stephers said to a man with dark everything."Can I get something to drink??" He turned around looked at her and laughed. She noticed his accent right away. " You?? A drink? Haha miss I see you are underaged. I cannot served you a drink." He continued laughing and turned away. "Sir I only wanted some soda."I pleaded with the laughing Italien. "Oh. A soda? that I can get you!"He turned around and poured me a glass without even asking what I had wanted,"Here you go young lady" I took the drink and didnt even bother anymore. I could already tell what kind of even I would be in for. ********* A few hours had passed and so had a few singers...It was my turn and I wasnt to eager to go up.... She had already graced the loft with her high pitched voice ( still sorry about those glasses) and now she was ready for her grand debut . I stepped up to the mic and looked around nervously...There were soo many people here that I didnt know. 'I hope they take well to my voice.' she thought nervously "Yesterday" by the beatles began. Stephers started sort off softly, you could tell she was a bit nervous. "Yesterday....All my troubles seem so far away..."The audience didnt look to disturbed yet so she got a little stronger.."Now it looks as though they re here to stay...Oh I believe in yesterday" She was singing the song an octave higher then usual so it was pretty high. As she reached the climax of the song she belted out another high note only this time it was a deafning f#...Who knew she had it in her. As she finished the mostly improv song she stepped down and looked at the ruffled audience staring back at her with a deadpan expression. ' Well at least nothing broke'She looked over to the waiter who she came to know as Rex. He was standing there with a tray of broken glasses... "Opps?" Stephers just shrugged and went about her merry way.. ************************* Cest finis ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sun Aug 22 15:38:42 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IbMD-00067J-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 13:24:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2482; Sun, 22 Aug 99 13:22:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8279; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 13:22:26 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 11:24:21 MDT Reply-To: Meg Anderson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Meg Anderson Subject: War: NP: Musical Packers (Part 2/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3717673bf89f437b1debf01360b4d244 Musical Packers by Meg Anderson and Melissa White Time: Saturday night, after "Making an Entrance at the Vaq Party" (which was part one, in case anyone was wondering) Place: The Vaq's karaoke party Note: We do not own either song, and we aren't attempting to cause a caffuffle with the songs chosen. I realize that "Dear God" may seem a bit out of place, but it's what I would have chosen had I been there. **************** Melissa and Meg were having a wonderful time at the party, inhaling anything that even looked like it might have caffiene in it, and singing enthusiastically even though neither had gone up onstage yet. "Mel, c'mon, go sing!" Meg begged, bouncing. "All right. But you have to, too." Melissa was grinning. "Okay!" Meg bounced harder. The two Natpackers descended upon the stage, and within moments, Melissa was singing "Foolish Games" by Jewel, pouring her soul into it. You took your coat off and stood in the rain, You were always crazy like that I watched from my window, always felt I was outside looking in on you You were always the mysterious one with dark eyes and careless hair, You were fashionably sensitive, but too cool to care Then you stood in my doorway, with nothing to say besides some comment on the weather Well in case you failed to notice, In case you failed to see, This is my heart bleeding before you, This is me down on my knees These foolish games are tearing me apart Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart You're breaking my heart You were always brilliant in the morning Smoking your cigarettes, talking over coffee You philosophies on art, Baroque moved you, You loved Mozart and you'd speak of your loved ones As I clumsily strummed my guitar You'd teach me of honest things Things that were daring, things that were clean Things that knew what an honest dollar did mean So I hid my soiled hands behind my back Somewhere along the line I must've gone off track with you Excuse me, think I've mistaken you for somebody else Somebody who gave a damn, Somebody more like myself These foolish games are tearing me apart Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart You're breaking my heart You took your coat off and stood in the rain you were always crazy like that... Melissa finished the song in a whisper. Several people in the audience were staring, and a couple even had tears in their eyes. Meg walked up onto the stage, deciding (after noticing two bright-eyed Dark Perks behind her, waiting to choose a song) to stay with the slightly depressing mood Melissa'd started. Loud drum beats and a mournful guitar came up, and Meg started in softly. "Dear God Hope you got the letter and I pray you can make it better down here I don't mean a big reduction in the price of beer And all the people that you make in your image See them starving on their feet 'Cause they don't get enough to eat >From God I can't believe in you Dear God, sorry to disturb you but... I feel that I should be heard loud and clear We all need a big reduction in amount of tears And all the people that you made in your image See them fighting in the street 'Cause they can't make opinions meet About God, I can't believe in you Did you make disease, and the diamond blue? Did you make mankind after we made you? And the devil, too? Dear God, don't know if you've noticed but... Your name is on a lot of quotes in this book And us crazy humans wrote it you should take a look And all the people that you made in your image Still believing that junk is true Well I know it ain't, and so do you, dear God I can't believe in I don't believe in..." Here she trailed off, and she gazed out sadly at the audience. Then her voice and the music spiralled up angrily. "I won't believe in heaven and hell No saints, no sinners, no devil as well No pearly gates, no thorny crown You're always letting us humans down The wars you bring, the babes you drown Those lost at sea and never found And it's the same the whole world 'round The hurt I see helps to compound That Father, Son and Holy Ghost Is just somebody's unholy hoax And if you're up there you'd perceive That my heart's here upon my sleeve If there's one thing I don't believe in It's you Dear God." "Thank you." Meg murmured into the microphone. She got off the stage as the Dark Perks got up and began singing something very.... well, perky. Melissa nodded at her when she got back to their table. "Nicely done." Meg smiled. "You too. That was amazing." She stared at her empty glass. "Wasn't there caffiene in that?" Melissa nodded. "Probably." She took a sip of her mocha and grinned. "You want to get more?" Meg grinned. "Yes!" She picked up her glass and bounced off to the bar. End Part Two of Three ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 22 15:38:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IbkR-0006ZT-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 13:49:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1228; Sun, 22 Aug 99 13:44:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9554; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 13:44:55 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 13:47:31 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Where's Are They? (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 93d62baa1edfcba0c5d2624d89e78061 Title: Cousins LCL: Where's Are They? (1/1) Date: Wednesday, August 18, 1999 Time: Morning Where: CERK By: Arletta Asbury Brandi was waiting for the down elevator when Arletta walked up to her. "Have you seen Shelley this morning?" Arletta asked. "Nope," answered Brandi, "Should I have?" Arletta sighed. "I haven't seen her today and Cordelia and Edgar are missing as well. Both cats were acting a little strange last night." "Maybe Shelley drove them to a vet? I mean if they were sick..." "No, she couldn't have. I borrowed her van yesterday for an errand and forgot to return her keys. I still have them. That's ONE of the reasons I was looking for her." Arletta paused in thought for a moment, before inspiration struck. "Ahhh, Brandi, would you like to conduct an interview today? I had thought that Shelley might do it but ... and I want to look around CERK more. I mean Cordelia and Edgar MUST be here somewhere." Arletta looked a little worried. "Sure. I'd be glad to," Brandi answered with a smile. As the youngest Light Cousin she was glad Arletta trusted her enough to interview a job applicant alone. "Mrs. Smith is due at the monastary at 2 pm." "I'll handle it," Brandi said, not knowing what was in store for her. From - Sun Aug 22 15:38:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ibu1-0007Ih-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 13:59:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2618; Sun, 22 Aug 99 13:57:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0307; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 13:57:24 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 13:59:05 EDT Reply-To: SField8067@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Fields Subject: WAR:UF:"Wth A Song In My Heart!" To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2e4407701e3a24601a3d11b1a0b09c82 WAR:UF:"With A Song In My Heart" By: Susan Ellen Field Setting: Vaquero Kareoke Party at the "Pitted Peach" Time: Party is in Progress Everyone used with permission "Come-on guys! its our turn!!' said Susan, dragging April and Shan up on the stage. Each got handed a microphone and took thier positons . "I'd like to dedicate this song to my UFfish bud Jules, who appreciates a really kewl song when she hears it!"Susan said into the Mike. Shan spit out the last piece of Tofu she was chewing on,as the music began.Susan started off singing loudly to "Tainted Love". "Sometimes I feel i've got to.. run away, i've got to ...get away...'...lalalalala Then April and Shan chimed in with the chorus. "Tainted Love'...... 'Tainted Love"..... The Trio did a few dance steps they had rehearshed to go along with the song.They were a real crowd pleaser. Then, the song ended.and April and Shan quickly left the stage .after a few moments, they discovered Susan wasen't with them. "Oh no,she is at it again"!!" said April Dragging Shan back towards the stage. "And now I'd like to bring on our next"............ At that very moment,Susan grabbed the Microphone again. "For my next number, I would like to sing your favorite and mine "Secret Agent Man!!" Since that song wasen't exactly on the Kareoke line-up,Susan started singing sans music... "Theres a man who leads a life of danger,with everyone he meets he stays a strang...."AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Rae and April quickly yanked Susan off the Stage.........but not before Susan said"Thankyouverymuch" in her best Elvis imitation! The End From - Sun Aug 22 15:38:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ic5V-0007eu-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 14:11:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1319; Sun, 22 Aug 99 14:09:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0837; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 14:09:12 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 14:07:22 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: A Few Night Mooo-ves To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bd4a62aa788f557d8fe710f69b9d8627 NA: A Few Night Mooo-ves by Patt Elmore, with input from the NA Scribe When: Sat/Sun August 21/22, 1999 Right before the NA/VaqHQ switch back. Where: Vachon's Church All participants used with permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "First we switched headquarters, and now we switch back," Jennifer grumbled as she began gathering her personal belongings for the trip back to the Shrine. "I wish someone would make up their mind." "Can't make it up if you don't have it," Patt said as she walked by, toting her own suitcase, shadowed by the ever faithful Fred. "We're not planning on moving again, are we? Because if we are, I'd rather just stay packed," Jennifer noted. "Nope," Patt replied firmly. "If anybody gets another wild hair about wanting to vacate the Shrine, I will personally pull it out by its red root." Jennifer giggled and fell into step beside Patt. She looked around Vachon's church as they walked, her heart twisting at the sight of the the peach and red touches the NA's were having to take down. "Wait a minute there, Ted." Patt strolled up to where the Buff Boy was hauling his sweetie, Shele, in a little red wagon. Patt stood before Shele's plaster encased face, which now had eye holes, and spoke. "Mind some company, Shele?" Before the addict could reply, Patt, with Ted's help, lifted KC's statue and placed it in the wagon with Shele. "Matched pair," Supaige noted as she walked by, carrying her own stuff. Ted continued on, pulling the heavily laden wagon, with Shele encouraging him with "mmmmffffpppt's." "I'll bet that thing *is* heavy," Jesse noted as she came up, carrying several of her best swords. "Too bad they don't have an ox or something to pull that wagon." "I know where they could find one," Supaige said, "but it kind of belongs to a taco stand." Several pairs of addict eyes sought out Supaige, who withered under the intense glare. "Sorry . . . I wasn't even thinking about Spanish Lily's. Honest." Patt sniffed, looking around the church. "You know, it's a shame that we can't leave a little something behind to let the Vaqs know we were here." Caren, who had overheard, walked up and gave Patt a knowing look. "You're thinking, aren't you?" "I'm thinking that they did a lot more to us than we did to them and that don't seem fair," Patt said. The other addicts murmured in agreement. "So, what do you have in mind, oh fearless Third Cousin?" Jesse asked eagerly. "Oh . . . just a little welcome home sign, and it'll be outside the Church, so Red can't get her bare feet all in a blister," Patt grinned. She turned to Supaige and asked, "Now, just where was that taco shack?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Several hours later. Patt stood back, wiping her hands and admiring the efforts of her crew. Jennifer, Caren, Supaige and Jesse all grinned with delight. "Okay, Jess," Patt nodded toward the teenager. "Light 'er up." Jesse quickly inserted the electrical plug and the outside of the church entrance was suddenly bathed in the glow of bright peach. Standing there, on a large platform in front of the church entrance, was a huge plastic toro-type bull. It's original message of "Eat at Jose's" had been skillfully covered over by paint *borrowed* from Glennis' collection of artistic supplies. Instead, a bright neon placard hung from its side, proclaiming: "Come on Nick--give in to your true nature." And, the Vaqs would probably have approved of the taunt, seemingly directed at the Knighties, except for one crowning touch. Glued to the head of the plastic bovine was a long, shaggy (and possibly greasy) black wig. The bull's eyes also blinked--quite frequently. "Now," Patt said, a satisfied look on her face. "Let's go home." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the end 01/01 patt79ad@juno.com --------- End forwarded message ---------- ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sun Aug 22 15:38:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ic5Y-0007I4-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 14:11:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9052; Sun, 22 Aug 99 14:09:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0859; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 14:09:14 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 14:07:22 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: A Little Pep Talk 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 05fad49eca2e68b176265b4925bfc386 NA: A Little Pep Talk 01/01 by Patt Elmore and Bonnie Rutledge When: Prior to the NA/Vaq HQ Switchback Where: Vachon's Church Addicts used with permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Bonnie arrived back at the church, conveying the news that the headquarter switchback was imminent, the gathering of addicts cheered. "Just in time to get ready for the Conversion Day festivities!" Jules said happily. This did not produce the effect the HP had been expecting. Instead of another round of cheers, the addicts all responded with gloomy muttering. "What's this?" Jules said. "Are you all complaining about having a party?" "What's the point of celebrating Conversion Day if he's no longer converted?" Allie pointed out. Jules looked around at the assembly of moping addicts. Gathered here in Vachon's dark little church, despite the added ambiance of peach and red curtains and new trac lighting, it was easy to see how the addicts could have given into depression. "Listen to yourselves," the High Priestess of Nunkies said, feeling a surge of sudden fury. "You act as though the only reason we worship LaCroix is because he is . . . was a vampire. That is so alien to the truth." The addicts looked at the HP in surprise. "Then why *do* we venerate him?" Bram asked. "If it isn't because of his power, what's the point?" "That's it? His vampiric power is the only reason we adore him?" Jules replied with impatience, looking around the room. She noticed Patt nodding, and gave the mature addict a withering look. Jules looked out at the crowd again, raising her head regally. "During our supper with him the other night, did any of you even feel a twinge of non-addiction, despite his mortality?" Bonnie started to raise her hand, but Jules shot her down with a single glare. "Hasn't LaCroix already displayed during this trying experience that he is just as powerful in human guise as he is in immortal?" Jules continued. "Just what do you think has changed?" "He can't fly," Supaige offered. "And, he can't *whammy* our enemies," Tiff added. "And, he's getting a suntan," Jennifer pointed out. Jules waved her hand in a dismissing gesture. "Don't you see? These are just unfortunate, and most likely temporary, difficulties that he and we are facing. LaCroix, whether vampire or mortal, is still worthy of our adoration." "He still has nice thighs," Bonnie agreed. "And they are *warm* now," Charl noted. Jules nodded vigorously. "Exactly! The Roman General who became our Nunkies almost two-thousand years ago is still the same. He's still that very masculine, powerful, confident . . ." "Mature!" Patt offered. Jules ignored the Third Cousin. " . . . handsome, deep-voiced, robust, sensuous . . ." "Luscious . . ." Monica said dreamily. " . . . exquisite, virile . . ." Jules' eyes began to glaze. Annie reached out and gently touched the HP's arm. "We get the point, Jules. Come back down to earth, or we'll be needing to install new carpet in the church. And, I don't think we have flood insurance." Jules trembled slightly, then regained herself. "So you see, LaCroix hasn't *really* changed. And, we have more reason to celebrate Conversion Day than ever before." "How do you figure that, HP?" Tiff asked skeptically. "Because," Jules' eyes lit up with a faraway radiance. "If it weren't for his Conversion, our Nunkies would never have become immortal and we, as his future, would never have had the chance to know him as personally as we have had the privilege to do. Without his Conversion, that wonderful, powerful, masculine, . . . " Annie punched Jules' arm. The HP gave a little yelp, but quickly recovered and continued. " . . . *man* would simply be dust and memories. Without his Conversion, we would never have been able to hear that voice, look into those eyes . . ." "Run our fingers through that buzz cut," KC smirked. "Yes," Jules said. "If not for his Conversion, think of all the pleasure we would have missed. Whether LaCroix regains immortality or not, if not for his original Conversion, there would be no Nunkies, no NA and no reason for our hearts to have sung. And, because of that, we should celebrate Conversion Day 1999 with even more fervor than ever before." "Jules is right!" Annie cried out. "We *do* have a lot to celebrate." "Party! Party! Party!" addicts began to chant. "Let the festivities begin!!" Bonnie jumped up and began to dance. "Get packing, ladies (and I use the term very loosely)," Jules announced to her now exhilarated flock. "We will *not* celebrate the biggest C-Day ever in this dank refuge de Vaquera. We're going back to the Shrine and we're going to kick some . . ." "Achew!" Supaige sneezed. "Exactly!" Jules grinned. "Let's go home!" "Uhm...there's just one thing..." Bonnie mumbled. "What?" "I promised that we'd undo any changes we made to the church." "My trac lighting? My velvet curtains?" Jules was appalled at this abandonment of good taste. "Gone. Gone." "Well, I was planning on packing up my temple and statue, anyway," KC said. "I wouldn't leave my precious-preciouses where the Vaqs could touch 'em." "And, Cousin Erik said the bathroom already reclaimed its former state of Evil Pink," Tiff added. Bonnie looked pleased with the report so far, but her forehead was wrinkled with worry over one last thing. "That only leaves..." The addicts completed her sentence as a group. "...the Evil Pink Enamel..." Charl let out a frustrated sob and appeared ready to pull her hair out. "I've used all my Die-Hard secrets! Clorox won't cut it! Clorox with Bleach won't even dint it! SoftScrub, Ha! Baking soda, club soda, soda crackers, nilch! And the Evil Pink Enamel *mutilated* my Sacred Paper Towels!!!! It's Evil! Evil Pink Enamel, I tell you!!!" Dragon Sallie began to titter. She held up a taloned hand, the one that had been blemished for the past three days with Evil Pink Fingernails, but now it was clean as could be! "Someone drooled on me during the Why-We-Lust-LaCroix speech. . . hee-hee. . ." "We're saved!" Charl cheered. "We should have thought of that earlier," Glennis said. "I mean, isn't Mother's Spit one of the oldest, most reliable cleaning agents known to humankind?" "Pull out the tapes of the Nightcrawler monologues!" Bonnie called. "Everyone on the roof, and let those salivary glands flow! We've got a church to un-Evil!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the end 01/01 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sun Aug 22 15:38:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Id2x-0001TT-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 15:12:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9342; Sun, 22 Aug 99 15:10:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4929; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 15:10:41 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 15:12:29 EDT Reply-To: JavietteV@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Rae Plachecki Subject: WAR: VAQ-Get a Haircut...or don't To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cc2f2f5a155b5992187709c1c4a9a899 Where: Vaqs Karaoke Party When: Saturday Night Who: Rae Filk: A filk of George Thorogood's "Get a Haircut" (One of my hometown boys) A lull drops over the crowd in anticipation of the next karaoke junkies' attempt at a song. Instead of turning over the mic, Rae decides it's time for her turn. As the opening guitar licks scream from the speakers, Rae steps onto the stage... "He was a rebel from the day he was brought across Had long hair and ignored his boss You called him 'slacker' and told him to go away And bring back Schanke, without delay But season three gave me something to shout He's the type my parents warned me about You all say we are just an unruly mob, and he should Get a haircut and get a real job Get a haircut and get a real job Clean the church up and don't be a slob Get it together like your young brother Juan, why don't you Get a haircut and get a real job He spends the night just hangin' out with his crew Screed and Bourbon, to them he's always true They reminisce about the good ol' ways Party all nights, and sleep all days He met this chick, I heard that she was a Perk Called him 'evil', told him to go to work But he still likes her, even though she's sometimes a snob, and tells him Get a haircut and get a real job Get a haircut and get a real job Those vaqueros only want you for your bod Get a shave and don't look like a clod, why don't you Get a haircut and get a real job Get a real job Why don't you get a real job Get a real job Why don't you get a real job" *during the guitar vamp, Rae notices a police officer walking into the bar at the back of the room. He takes in the commotion, blinks twice, shakes his head, and walks back out* "Here in Toronto, he feels right at home He doesn't angst like some that we know He's got his Vaq brats and we're really proud, he didn't Get a haircut and he's got NO job Don't get a haircut and don't get a job Ride your Triumph and rev it up loud We love you and we don't drool like some slobs, so don't you Get a haircut and don't get a job!! Don't get a job Please don't get a real job Don't get a job We're glad you don't have a job" At the thunderous applause (coming from the Vaqs) Rae performs a slight bow. "Alright...who's next?" *************** Rae javietteV@aol.com From - Sun Aug 22 17:48:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IeCC-0004Kv-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 16:26:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2108; Sun, 22 Aug 99 16:24:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1657; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 16:24:08 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 16:31:20 -0400 Reply-To: Fenris Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fenris Subject: WAR: SCREED'S SWEET UF ADVENTURE 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bc7ad9d02222c30b5fe7a280d0f4c5ed WAR: SCREED'S SWEET UF ADVENTURE 1/1 Time: Friday afternoon Place: UF Library By: Libby Singleton and Fenris Everyone abused with everyone's permission Screed popped his head out of the tunnel's entrance, shoving aside the rug. "Wot's this, eh? One o' them lie-berry o' scribblin' thingees. Btttlllpppp. Don't see none o' them 'oney-sticks wot ya said wuz so yummy-fer-ya-tummy." "There's got ta be some 'oney thingees somewhere," Libs assured Screed. She followed him out of the tunnel amongst an ever growing population of rats. "This iz, after h'all, the lie-n-beddy o' the Unnamed Frac-shun. They luvs nuttin' n' 'oney." Screed kicked a few rats aside and their squeaks of distress caused Barnabas the blind mostly Basset to whine and roll over on his back. "Kin't abide them squeakers getti' next ta me skin. Diseases an' h'all tha'," he muttered. As Libby began looking in nooks and crannies for honey sticks, she accidentally knocked a book off the shelf. It fell onto the floor, opened to a picture. "Cor blimmey!" Screed cried, starring down in wide eyed wonder. "H'ain't nuthin' de-fec-a-tive 'bout tha' Knight!" Unseen by Libby or Screed, Kenny the ratsie stood on his ratsie toes and took a peek at the page. "EEEEOOOOWWWWW!" he cried in a lil' ratsie voice covering his eyes with lil' ratsie paws. Of course, this was all a show as his lil' ratsie fingers were spread widely apart and a lil' ratsie grin covered his lil' ratsie mug. Libby and Screed quickly made there way through every page of the book. Then they pulled another and another off the shelves, gazing at all the volumes belonging to the faction that dared not explain its name (at least not in a PG-rated War). As other member o' the Ratpack discovered the two had yet to return from their quest for a honey snack, they made their way up the tunnel into the Unnamed Faction's library where they, too, became engaged by the volumes. Before long, the entire library was filled from wall to wall with Ratpackers, rats, volumes of volumes of books, and one blind mostly-Basset named Barnabas rolled onto his back baying and whining due to lack of attention. After a while, Barnabas realized that no one was paying any attention to him. Usually his pathos-laden bids for attention were rewarded by at least one of the Ratpackers relenting and sitting down next to him for a satisfying belly scritch. All he could detect now, though, was the rustle of pages being turned, interspersed with the occasional exclamation of awe, admiration, embarrassment or downright surprise from the intently reading Ratpackers. Thoroughly disgruntled, Barnabas got up and padded out of the room. He could hear other humans in the house, and smelled other dogs, which meant that somewhere in this strange place there were bowls of dog food, and people willing to pat dogs. Downstairs in the living room, a lively debate on the authenticity level of the upcoming medieval menu for the Knightie dinner was well into its second hour. Amie sat in one of the high-backed chairs, staunchly holding out for a roast peacock as one of the central dishes. She was being vehemently backed up by Lauren. Discussion had centered on the logistics of obtaining the ingredients for such an exotic dish, specifically how to get hold of a deceased peacock, preferably without fines or jail time being involved. 'Chele spoke up, attempting to provide some perspective on the situation. "I mean, really. A bird is a bird, when it comes down to it. Chicken's probably a lot tastier than peacock anyway. Goose! What's wrong with serving a goose? I bet we could get one without too much trouble." Amie shook her head. "No, part of the whole effect is serving the bird dressed in its own skin and plumage. A chicken's just not going to do it. Besides, when were chickens introduced to Europe? They're African in origin, I believe." "Oh, and peacocks are native to medieval Belgium? They were both introduced during the Crusades, I believe." Amie sighed and said, "That's the kind of thing they ate, and that's how it was served. We *really* want this to be as authentic as possible. " Shelley rolled her eyes and said, "Does that mean we're going to be serving unsanitary drinking water, too?" Lauren said. "It's just too bad that we can't bring the dogs and make it really authentic. " "Why, so they can sit under the table and eat the bones?" "No, so people can wipe their hands on them, of course!" Shelley made a face. "Bleah. Well, Tybalt would have made a great medieval napkin, he's a handy size and he's black so the grease wouldn't show up." Laughing, she shot a look at Laurey, who sat at one of the side-tables, determinedly ignoring the conversation and making notes in her birding journal. "Hey, Laurey. Tyb's lifelong dream. People smearing gravy and poultry grease all over him. He'd be thrilled." Laurey looked up from her writing and smirked. "Yes he would, right up until I told Perry to take him for a bath in the lake. Anyway, the word has come down, no dogs allowed, so we'll just have to live without the adventures of 'Tybalt, Medieval Napkin'." Amie sighed. "Well, come on Lauren, let's go look in the library. There are a lot of old cookbooks there, I want to do a little research on how jellied eels were traditionally served." "God, not presented in their skins, please," groaned Shelley, as the two chefs left. The remaining UFfers fell quiet, observing the small gang of canines playing in the center of the living room, completely ignorant of the dramatic debate going on around them. 'Chele watched affectionately as her big husky/shepherd/labrador cross, Velvet, gently roughhoused with several of the smaller dogs, Nicky, Cujo, and... "Hey, guys. Who owns the basset hound?" Mystified looks were exchanged. Julia, who was privately of the opinion that there were already more dogs here than were really necessary, grumbled, "We should just start calling this place The Doghouse, not The Hive! Are you saying that they're just wandering in off the street to enjoy our hospitality now" She watched, disgruntled, as several UFfers gathered around the new arrival, who promptly rolled on his back, whining in delight as he was treated to a multiple-handed tummy rub. "Hey, look at his eyes. I think he's blind," said 'Chele. Laurey looked at the cloudy irises and nodded in agreement. "Think you're right, 'Chele. Poor baby. Hey, who'd let a blind dog just roam around in the street?" Julia, sensing what was coming next, was just about to vehemently squash the idea of adopting yet another canine UF mascot, when a thunderous peal of barking broke out upstairs. Julia stuck her fingers in her ears as all of the dogs in the living room leaped up and ran for the stairs, yelping and barking, as if a button had been simultaneously pushed on all of them. Rising over the din were Amie's and Lauren's voices, calling for assistance. This galvanized the people in the living room and they stampeded for the upstairs. >From all over the house, UFfers dropped what they were doing and ran to investigate, Several of them pausing on the way to grab any nearby objects that looked like they might make good missiles or bludgeons. They converged on the library, where the racket was coming from. --Twenty minutes earlier-- Perry ambled along the hall, nose to the floorboards. There were more wild rats in the house, he could smell them. Following one particularly strong trace, he came to the library door which was standing a few inches ajar. Quietly, he nosed the heavy door open. Perry stepped into the library and stopped dead in his tracks, taking in the sight of a group of strange humans spread comfortably out around the library, draped over various chairs, reading and making themselves completely at home. Piles of books had been taken off the shelves and were scattered around the floor. The appeal of books escaped Perry completely. They didn't smell particularly nice, they didn't bounce when you tossed them up in the air, and carrying more than one at a time in your mouth was very awkward. But his adopted humans seemed to prize them beyond all reason, judging from their vehement reactions on the occasions when Perry had picked up one of the larger, leatherbound ones and carried it around the house with him, just to have something to carry. (Many humans just didn't seem to understand that, in order to feel right with their world, Golden Retrievers needed to carry things around in their mouths. It really didn't matter what, as long as was an object that belonged to someone they knew, or was something that someone they knew might enjoy having dropped in their laps. Having lived around Golden Retrievers for most of her life, Perry's human friend, Laurey, understood this. The other UFfers were a little less accepting of this particular habit of Perry's, particularly the dropping-in-the-lap part.) Now, Perry wasn't quite sure what to do about this--a pack of strange humans were ensconced in the revered library, making free with the Uffers' treasured books and scattering them everywhere. And also, there were rats in here, too. Wild rats. Their scent reminded Perry that he was getting hungry. The feeling of being watched was something that Screed had never, ever liked. He was getting that feeling now. Pulling his attention away from the story he was currently embroiled in, he looked up into a pair of eyes that were glowing the dull red of banked coals. His eyes widened as he locked stares with the big, tawny vampire dog. The dog's plumy tail was held in a stiff, high curve without a hint of a wag, and the animal was staring at him with a cold intensity that Screed didn't like, not one teeny-tiny bit. Ever so slowly, he extended his index finger and moved his hand out to gently poke Libby in the side. Completely engrossed in reading, Libby muttered "Yeah?" without looking up from her book. The reddish glow in the dog's eyes intensified. Screed swallowed nervously and poked Libby again, much harder this time. "Ow! Wotcha jabbin' me for?" "There's one o' those doggie woggies droolin' beasties," Screed said. "Me thinks h'its the one wot I promised the Knighty-Knight I'd hack h'only Oi h'ain't got nut-thin' wot ta hack wit'." "Yowsies!" Johnsie roared. "Me thinks h'it iz eeder rabid-loik o' a vamp. H'either h'ain't good." Johnsie tried to move behind Libby while Libby tried to jump in Johnsie's arms. They both ended up pushing Screed in front of them for protection from Perry. When it became apparent that Screed was too scrawny to offer much protection, everybody leaped onto various now-empty shelves off the bookcases. Lauren and Amie stopped in the doorway to the library, staring in amazement at the disarray before them. Books and papers were strewn everywhere. A group of disheveled strangers were there, too, perching on the highest points in the room they could get to, mostly the now-empty bookshelves. The intruders were staring down wide-eyed at Perry, who trotted back and forth, growling, eyes glowing red. Any doubts the two UFfers might have had as to the identity of their unexpected guests evaporated as they caught sight of Screed, perched precariously on top of one of the bookcases. The treed Ratpackers stared at the two women framed in the doorway. Time seemed to simply hover, and no one spoke, as everyone seemed to be searching for just the right thing to say. A small black form bounded past Lauren and Amie into the library. Tybalt stopped, taking in the tableau for a brief moment. Then in time-honored Schipperke fashion, he drew a deep breath and cut loose with a ear-splitting run of machine-gun barks. After a few seconds, Tyb's yammering struck a sympathetic chord in Perry and the big Golden began barking, deep, thunderous barks with vampiric projection behind them. Everyone in the room clapped their hands over their ears (which almost caused a few of the more precariously balanced Ratpackers to fall off their perches). Other people began arriving, crowding into the doorway behind Amie and Lauren. Laurey shouldered her way through, squeezing past the Uffish chefs with a mumbled apology, and darted forward to grasp Perry by the ruff, pulling him gently back. She looked up into an assortment of worried Ratpacker faces and grinned. "Come on down. Perry won't hurt you, he was just making sure you didn't leave before we could be...introduced. Hey, he's still a vampire--if he wanted to he'd just fly up and grab you." Called rudely away from the midst of working a particularly complicated diagram illustrating the effects of the Industrial Revolution on the Nick/Lacroix relational dynamics, Leslie stormed in. She looked around in dismay at the mess, then at the Ratpackers who were slowly climbing down from their perches. "What" she said, in a low, quiet voice that caused most of the people around her to immediately begin sidling away, "in the world is going on here?" In the ensuing silence, Leslie began thinking about her research for another recent lecture, research that had involved the effect of certain aromatic irritant oils on the more vulnerable areas of human skin. And the fact that Lora, bless her heart, had come fully equipped to Toronto. In fact, Leslie noticed with satisfaction, there Lora was, Jules' gift clutched in one hand, tapping the business end of the cat-o-nine-tails against the palm of the other hand. This fact did not escape the Ratpackers either, who had nervously followed the direction of Leslie's gaze to the armed Lora, who was beginning to display a rather evil smile. "But ... but we jest wanted sum 'oney sticks," Libs whined, her blue eyes looking very sorrowful. "Yeah," Screed agreed. "See, Oi h'ain't been mor-tality loik h'in sin-sor-ries, h'in wuz wantin' to put me gabber 'round 'un o' them in-foe-mass 'oney sticks. Ya wouldna de-ny ol' Screed tha' would ya?" Julia slipped her hand into her pocket where the Salt Lick of Tranquillity rested, promising herself a long, enjoyable visit with it in the very near future. As calmly as possible, she said, "You realize that there's an ingenious device installed in most houses that is a great timesaver for breaking into them? It's called a front door. We have a very large, very obvious one." "With really nice knockers!" Susan chimed in as she came through the door, eager to discover what the ruckus was all about. Jules and April both started laughing. Julia looked at Susan for a long moment, and cleared her throat, turning her glare once more to the Ratpackers. "Ahem. Yes, antique brass. Lovely workmanship. Made to be used. Are you catching my drift yet?" The Ratpackers blinked at her, entranced. Julia looked at the Ratpackers expectantly. Barnabas rolled over on his back and whined because no one was petting him "Coo. She ain't half go'a bee-yoo-ti-fu' command 'o tha King's English, ain't she?" whispered Screed to Libby, who nodded in silent agreement. Julia sighed and suddenly looked very tired. Amie stepped in to translate. "What she's trying to hint at is did it ever occur to you to just knock on the front door and *ask* us for some honey sticks?" Libby sniffed noisely. "H'ain't h'our way ta knock. We're the Ratpack, not Avon ladies! "What ever," Julia said. "Now back into your tunnel." "Wot, wit'hout payment?" Johnsie asked, shocked. "We have to pay you to leave?" All the Ratpackers nodded their heads. "Well," Julia sighed. "It isn't like we have a shortage of honey sticks." She motioned to Jules, who always had a plentiful supply handy on hand. Desperately stifling laughter, Jules handed every Ratpacker (but not any lil' ratsies) one honey stick a piece. Eyes glittering, the Ratpackers and their shiny-scalped patron slipped back into the secret tunnel. "Coooo!" Johnsie squealed, licking at the end of his honey stick as he disappeared down the hole with Kenny the rat escaping unnoticed beside him. The Uffers stared at the wide-open secret doorway, most of them still trying to mentally process the incident. After a moment, the disgusted Barnabas stopped his futile rolling and whining for attention and he trotted off after Libby-mom. Watching the elderly basset hound go with a rather relieved sigh, Julia bent down and started picking up books. After a few moments, the rest of the disgruntled Uffers joined her. "Hey, do we want to shove a bookcase or something in front of the door, so they don't get back in?" asked Jules. Laurey shrugged, and said, "I don't think so...they'll just saw their way through the floor or something next time. Let's just hope that holds 'em for a while. I hate to resort to bribery, but maybe we should just leave a bucket of honey sticks down in the basement after this. What a mess!" She released Perry's ruff, upon which he trotted forward to growl menacingly into the tunnel. Several Uffers thought they heard a faint squeak, far down the tunnel, but it could just as easily been the old house settling (something it seemed to do an awful lot of lately). "Ta bad we hadda leave h'all them bewks be-hind," Michele whimpered. "Kind o' ed-u-kay-shun-all, they wuz." "Who said we left 'em h'all behind?" Johnsie, Libs and Screed said at the same time. Each pulled a volume from various places in their clothing and held the books up proudly. "They'd fetch a gewd price h'at the swap meet," Johnsie said, grinning mischievously. "Swap meet?" Libs cried. "Oi'm keepin' mine, Oi h'am." From - Sun Aug 22 17:48:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IeG7-0004Tq-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 16:30:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3505; Sun, 22 Aug 99 16:28:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1921; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 16:28:24 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 13:30:27 -0700 Reply-To: DP Padawan Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: DP Padawan Subject: WAR: DP: A New Burp To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c32da4e21aa842aa609ce844424b9589 WAR: DP: A New Burp TIME: Wednesday 08/18/99 mid PM AFTER: "Burp the Magnificent" PLACE: DP Mansion by Caeryn Myer ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Oh obnoxious sunlight. Grudgingly, the DP Padawan cracked one eyelid to see how far the insidious rays were in their daily trek. If the relative warmth of the room was any indication, it was probably early to mid afternoon. Picking herself up off of the bed, Caeryn raked a hand through her hair before grabbing a clip to hold it back. Rubbing at her sleep filled eyes, she crawled out of bed and padded over to the VCR. The TV emitted a soft blue light, indicating that she had fallen asleep while the movie was still playing and had not turned it off. Turning the screen off to eliminate the barely audible electronic hum, she then hit the eject button, calmly waiting for the last tape to slide out. Lovingly , she replaced it in the gilt silver and black box that proudly proclaimed the "Widescreen" edition. She put the cover back on the set of three tapes and turned around to return the precious cargo to her duffel bag. Funny. She could have sworn the black carryall had been sitting at the end of her bed.... Frowning in puzzlement, her brain protesting the activity prior to the administration of caffeine, she pushed a strand of hair back out of her face and began poking around under the various piles of stuff thrown here and there. After a few seconds of searching, she discovered it hidden away under the bed. Shrugging, she dropped the videos in, thinking she must have kicked it under the bed before going to sleep. Stretching out once more, she twisted her back till she heard the bones crack back into place. Coffee next. Tying the sash of her white pyjamas around her she waist a little tighter, she left her room, closing the door behind her. Wandering down the hall Caeryn pondered the day ahead of her. She really should try to locate where Burp had stashed the lab concoction. Then again, the longer she waited the more careless he would get--right now he was still on his guard. He was acting decidedly un-demon like. Yesterday, for example, he had shown remarkable concentration on being a general all afternoon...quite an accomplishment for a creature that had an average attention span of five microseconds. Shrugging the thought aside, she plodded down the stairs, her mind temporarily refusing to focus on anything other than the aroma of coffee drifting from the kitchen. She came to a dead halt midway down the main stairs at the sight of the melee in the foyer. Her caffeine-deprived system regarded the scenario without realising what it was that she was seeing. There in the middle of checker patterned floor one of the pink demons was trying to wrest a thin red stick from the clutches of a pile of black laundry...a pile of laundry that was crowned with a black lampshade. It was then that the Dark Perk noticed the long thin red object was in fact one of her favorite lightsabre style pens. And the pile of laundry looked, for the most part, to be hers as well "Hey...where'd you get that stuff?"" the thug demanded indignantly. The first demon looked up, startled. Chittering angrily, the pile of laundry used the momentary distraction to seize control of the writing utensil and turned triumphantly to face the vengefully approaching DP. Caeryn almost fell the rest of the way down the stairs at the sight. To her credit, the DP Padawan managed to control first her surprise and then her amusement for a full ten nanoseconds before the absurdity of the vision before her stripped away her futile attempts at control. There, before her stood Burp. At least, she thought it was Burp under all the get up. Brandishing the toy pen in a manner that was meant to be threatening, the commander of all Pinkdom stood bravely with her black satin nightgown tied around his neck to create the effect of a cape. A dented black lampshade replaced the paper boat hat of the previous day. Burp had obviously traded his Napoleon complex in favour of becoming a Sith Lord. Caeryn couldn't stop the peals of laughter that escaped her. Within a few seconds it was almost painful to breath. The image of the short pink form wearing her pyjamas with a black lamp cover atop his head while brandishing her lightsabre pen with a fierce scowl was utterly hilarious. Sitting down on the steps, she continued to laugh uncontrollably. A few of the other Dark Perks emerged from various rooms to see what was going on. One by one they took in the shape of the now gasping/laughing film major and the decked out demon. Some shook their heads, some grinned, and most just laughed. Burp did not take this latest affront to his ego very well. It didn't help that the demon he had been wresting the pen from earlier seized the opportunity of the distraction, making a grab for the small toy and managing to snatch it away from the fuming pseudo-sith recruit. Burp whirled to run after his triumphantly fleeing cohort, tackling him within a couple of steps. The lampshade was knocked loose with the force of the impact and went rolling to one side. The other demon lost his grip on the pen and it went skittering to the other side. Burp had apparently seen enough of his character inspiration to behave in true darth fashion and grabbed his squirming fellow by the neck, lifting him up a couple of inches off the floor. The dislodged lampshade continued to roll around in circles on the floor as the Dark Perk spectator howled her amusement. The demon Burp was trying to strangle liquefied momentarily, grouping back into demon form once he was out of Burp's grasp. Chittering grumpily at his delusional buddy, the demon made a face that strongly resembled a five year old sticking their tongue out and promptly disappeared. Putting on a solemn face, Caeryn walked down the remaining stairs and bent to retreive the pen. Turning to regard the fuming Burp she looked at him, the smile not completely hidden in her eyes, she watched him pick up his impromptu hat and replace it on his head. Squatting down, her face a carefully composed mask of neutrality, she offered the beat up lightsabre pen toy to the little guy. Burp regarded her suspiciously, then quickly snatched the pen. After noting the DP's part of the Galen Cube was on it's chain around Burp's neck, Caeryn stood up slowly and deliberately turned to resume her journey to the kitchen. Burp watched her thoughtfully. Perhaps the insolent thug was finally coming to respect him. At least she had given him back one of the critical parts of his ensemble. A sith lord had to have a lightsabre, after all. Especially when the other demons couldn't be brought back into line by asphyxiation. Feeling a little more important and awe worthy, the newest fan of the movie-we-won't-mention pulled the shreds of his dignity up around him and straightened his cape (well, actually it was Caeryn's nightie but let's not spoil the effect). As he shuffled off, it was perhaps for the best that he headed in the opposite direction of the kitchen, for in doing so he carried his imperial self away from the floating sound of the Dark Perk's laughter that had no longer been able to restrain itself. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ FINIS My apologies for the tardiness of this post :-) From - Sun Aug 22 17:48:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11If5k-0001GZ-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 17:23:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3725; Sun, 22 Aug 99 17:21:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5054; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 17:21:47 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 17:23:29 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Vetterburg Vendetta (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bb85784ce4ac5af1e3c18c3728a11b11 Title: Vetterburg Vendetta (1/3) Author: Shelley , with permission from Arletta and all used. Date: Thursday, August 19th Time: Afternoon After "Storming the Castle", "In the Dungeon", and "Pretty in Pink, Give me a Drink" Shelley was on a mission. A mission of madness, but she didn't know that just yet. All she knew was that, as a resident of Vetterburg, = it was her duty and obligation to stop the evil Dr. Natenstein any way she could. She owed it to herself, Mayor Der Croit, and to = those nice Perkslyvanians who had saved them all from certain = doom. It was an unfortunate turn of events that the evil doctor had not been in her lab when they had formed their angry mob and = stormed her castle. It was even more unfortunate that they = had been imprisoned in the dungeon overnight. Thank = goodness Mayor Der Croit had sent others to save them. The mission had not ended in complete failure though, they had = learned that she was at her home. Now, having escaped relatively = unscathed, Shelley was determined to track her down and put an = end to the misery she and her monster were causing. Shelley was clothed in the traditional storming-the-castle outfit = of pink lederhosen (made from the finest hide of wild pink = elephant, of course), pink tights, darker pink suspenders = (braided from all natural pink toothfairy hair), and a shocking = pink breastplate (of the finest, all natural, vinyl to be found in = all of Vetterburg). Coupled with her pink, puffy sleeved blouse = and pitchfork, she made quite a sight. A statement not many = who saw her would disagree with, to be sure. Clutching her pitchfork tightly, she headed for the doctor's = residence. Just how she knew the way there, she hadn't = bothered to wonder yet. She knew, that's all that was important. = Well, that, and the fact that it was just up here on the right. Slowing down, Shelley peered carefully over the small wall = around the stone house. Obviously, Dr. Natenstein wanted = people to believe that it was a monastery, although to anyone = in the know, the disguise was laughable. In fact, Shelley even = laughed out loud, just to prove the point. Several nearby people = crossed the road with worried looks hurled in Shelley's general = direction. Most broke into a run when the laughing began. Sneaking onto the property, Shelley hid in some bushes just outside the front door, trying to formulate a plan of attack. As she gazed around, she heard a vehicle turn in the drive. Peeking out, she observed a woman approaching the door. She was *obviously* = under the evil Dr. Natenstein's spell, as she was going into the = building. Shelley peered in through one of the windows, but couldn't see this new suspect. She must be hiding from view, or speaking to her master. Knowing she was now outnumbered, she tried to formulate = a plan of attack. Just then, she spotted a small bus approaching. --------------------------------------- Arletta was upset. It was Shelley's turn to give the tour, but she had vanished. Giving the tours was getting harder and harder, due to problems similar to this. It seemed everyone disappeared into = thin air whenever a tour group was due, and it had to stop. They = either had to hire someone to give the tours, or they had to come up with a schedule that everyone would stick to. Lost in thought, Arletta just barely took notice as the bus drove up. When the knocking began at the door though, she went to = answerit and give the dreaded tour. Admitting the group to the = monastery, she began to lead them through while telling them = her *very* limited knowledge of the place. She vaguely noticed = a familiar looking woman at the back of the group wearing varying = degrees of shocking pink. "RISE UP UND JOIN ME!" came a cry in a very bad German accent = midway through the tour. "VE CANNOT LET HER GET AVAY VITH = ZHIS, MY FELLOW VETTERBURGERS! VE MUST ATTACK AT VUNCE!" = Arletta looked towards the commotion. In the dining room, standing = on the large table, stood Shelley. She had a fist in the air and a half-crazed look in her eyes. "Shelley!" Arletta shouted, visibly relieved. "Where have you been? I was worried. And ... ah ... it IS your turn to lead this tour. Uhh ..." she began again but paused. She wasn't sure why Shelley was = standing on top of the dining hall table. = "YOU ARE CONTROLLED BY YOUR MASTER, BE SILENT EVIL ONE! = DENOUNCE YOUR EVIL VAYS, AND JOIN US!" It was at this point that Arletta took notice of the clothing Shelley had on. And the pitchfork. -------------------------------------- Groaning quietly, Arletta tried again. "Shelley, it's *me*, Arletta. Don't you remember? We share a room at CERK?" Shelley thought about it for a minute. "Ahhh, Arletta, ya, you are here to help me vith my quest?" The bad accent was still there, but at least the girl was finally calming down. Arletta breathed a sigh of relief. "Uhhh, yeah, sure Shelley" she replied. Then, under her breath, "whatEVER = your quest is". Shelley smiled. This would have been a good sign if it weren't for that crazed look in her eyes. "Is za monster in za house? Vhat = about za doktor?" "Ummmm, no, no monsters and no doctors..." Arletta said, confused. She hadn't yet heard about the attack at CERK, and therefore had no klew why Shelley would be acting this way. "Uh, hey, why don't we go back to CERK and change those, um, *interesting* clothes?" "Vhat, zeeze clothes?" Shelley asked incredulously. "But zeeze are za clothes those nice, helpful Perksylvanians gave us. I could ask zem for more, if you vould like?" she asked, eyeing the strange jeans and shirt the other woman had on with a critical eye. "Uh, NO" Arletta announced forcefully. There was NO way she = was dressing up like THAT. "Okay" Shelley said, shrugging. "I vill be in za other room, = plotting." Arletta watched her go, shaking her head. Perksylvanians? Monters?? Lederhosen???? *Something* was desperately = wrong here, she just wished she knew what. (Continued in "Vetterburg Vendetta (2/3)") From - Sun Aug 22 17:48:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11If6D-0006Ej-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 17:24:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0008; Sun, 22 Aug 99 17:22:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5071; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 17:22:12 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 16:24:05 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: Happy Conversion Day! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 42c674c5e2ab950040d6b0733dcf4e68 NA: Happy Conversion Day! Pilfered from the pages of the 'Toronto Aster': "Set up has begun for the 1920th annual Conversion Day celebration, hosted for the third year in a row by our fair city. Festival organizers promise theirs will be the best Conversion Day celebration yet. All of Toronto is invited to join in on the many events! When asked to describe the meaning of Conversion Day, holiday founders gave this statement: 'Conversion Day is about lifestyle changes, self-acceptance, and being thankful that you exist. If one man dies before his time, how many potential friends and fans of that man forever lose the chance to ever meet? Conversion Day signifies that there are no bad choices. There is beauty, reward, and a lesson to be learned from every mistake. We choose to celebrate that beauty and experience, rather than dwell on the negative like the nay-sayers. Celebrating Conversion Day is a way of saying 'I Love My Life!'' At 1pm, Monday August 23rd, the 19-hour party will kick off with a brand new feature to Conversion Day - the Virtual Knights' 5K Run/Walk! Get in your workout before the feasting begins! For registration information, contact Bonnie Rutledge at . After the 5K, there will be a variety of games and activities down Queen Street. These will include a camel jousting tournament, a hold-on-to-your-reins chariot race. The winners of each event will receive a trip for two to the Valley of Kings. *** Booths will include: - KC Dunking Booth - pay a quarter and get even! - Body painting! - Guessing games - test your tactile skills - Bobbing for peaches! All races will start and finish in front of 'The Jeweled Peach,' Toronto's own five-star fictional restaurant. When asked if he was excited about the honor, the maitre'd of the establishment, Monsieur Major Louis Emile Cabon, RCAF, had this to say: 'Zee Peach ees 'onored to convert all of Toronto! Try zee tiramisu!' As the evening hours roll around, get dressed for the all-night Toga Party!!! Guests may wear any historical costume of their choice, but Roman dress is encouraged. Party favors include: - Volcano model that really erupts! - Full dinner buffet and open bar! - Two thousand years of dance music! - Back By Barbarian Demand: Lymbough! - Free Conversion Day Pins! Check out for details! Special Guest: Lucien LaCroix, a.k.a. the Nightcrawler, popular late-night Toronto radio personality All festival proceeds go to the TOPD Widows and Orphans Fund (In honor of the Schanke Family) and the Sacred Addicted Sisters Bail Fund. *** Note: Two Airfare Tickets Provided: One Round Trip, One One-Way From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ig8v-0000f0-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:31:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2606; Sun, 22 Aug 99 18:28:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8960; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:28:58 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:28:55 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War: Knighties: A Low Riding Knighties To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5650d6d2689cf13b6a82c1eb6e696373 Low Riding Knighties By Knightie Katrinka All Knighties and Nick Knightie used with permission Time: Nine AM Date: Wednesday August 18, 1999 The sound Of Heart blared through the night sky of Toronto. The Knighties had put the top of the low rider down, and where driving in style. The car was cramed with Knighties. Three in the front, three in back. "Where do we turn now?" Mindy was driving the caddie. Katrinka peered at the map. Only three inches away from her nose. "At the corner of Bristol." "We're lost!" Gemsong moaned from the back seat. "We'll never get there!" "Yeah, your going to have your birthday before we get back." Adriana snorted. "Oh no!" Tears stung at Gemsong's eyes. "I'm not having a birthday this year!" "Oh yes you are!" Zoe said from beside Katrinka. "Nothing wrong with a birthday." "But I'm oooooooooooollllllllllllllllllllllllddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd." Katrinka smoothed back a lock of her grey-tinged hair. "Just wait till you turn 35, that's a doozy!" "Oh Goddess no!" Gemsong began to sob. "Thanks a lot Kat!" Mindy told her. "Now she feels really bad." "We've been looking for the Dark Perk HQ for hours!" Stephers moaned. "The Vaq's are no longer in the church! Everyone's changed HQ's except for Nick!" "We should call them." Adriana suggested. "How can we give surprise gifts if we tell them we're coming?" Katrinka asked. "You could at least ask Nick," "No way!" Mindy said firmly. "If we ask him for directions, he might get wind that we switched his cookies!" Zoe said, patting the box of her cookies. She knew this time the cookies wouldn't explode! "How about if we have someone who could actually see use the map?" Adriana asked. "I can see!" Katrinka objected. Stephers reached over the front seat and took the map from Katrinka. "The *first* problem is that the map was upside down." "So we've been driving in the wrong direction all morning?" Mindy asked. "Fraid so," "Kat.........." "I'm sorry Mindy, I tried to do the right thing." Katrinka almost melted beneath the seat. "It's not my fault! I lost my glasses." "Your a health hazard." Mindy stopped the car at a red light. Suddenly there was a thump sound beneath the car. "What was that?" Stephers asked. "I don't know." Zoe looked around to see if anyone had hit them. "Mindy, the lights green." Adriana reminded her. "I know, I can't get the car to move!" Mindy tried get the car to move. "Turn it off, then turn it back on." Katrinka suggested. Mindy frantically tried to start the car. "It won't work! It won't work!" "Try the clutch." Stephers said calmly. Mindy tried the clutch with no results. "Nick's going to kill us!" "We don't know that!" Behind her, Katrinka could hear the whine of a police siren. "Not the cops!" Gemsong sobbed. "Just what we need, us getting arrested!" Adriana agreed. Two plain clothed police officers came up to the car, their guns drawn. One on each side of the door. An almost familiar voice said. "Get out of the car!" Zoe picked up the cookies, and opened the door. "Put the package on the ground!" Katrinka got out of the car behind Zoe. The nearsighted one stumbled as she got out of the car, running into Zoe. The dangerous cook fell to the ground, the package flying out of her hand. The package landed at the man's feet and blew up! The officers fell to the ground, his head bleeding. "Oh NO! Not again!" Zoe yelled. "Ray!" Bodenskaya shouted. "I'm all right," Ray sat up, his forehead was cut, and bleeding. His clothing shinged. Katrinka felt herself being tackled, there was a weight on top of her as a police officer handcuffed her. Katrinka could hear the officer order the other Knighties to get out of the car, then lay down on the ground. "How do we know your cops?" Katrinka demanded. "You could be anyone!" The officer got off of her, and pulled her to her feet. He shoved a officers ID at her. The badge read "Detective Zandor Bodenskaya." "Call Detective Knight," Adriana told the officers. "We're friends of his!" Stephers agreed. "Yeah, right." Dectective Ray said. "We are! We're the Knighties!" Mindy told him. "The knighties, so that's what your gang is called." Ray said. "All of you are under arrest." Katrinka was lead to a police car. All six Knighties where locked into the back seat. It was a tight squeeze, but not as painful as they knew it would be after Nick found out about their arrest. ****************** "Nick's going to kill us! Nick's going to kill us!" Gemsong began to cry as they came into the precent. "Be strong!" Mindy told her. "I'm going to spend my birthday in jail!" she wailed. "We're going to be kicked out of the loft!" Katrinka began to sob softly. "Not only that I could get fired from my teaching job!" "We're going to spend the rest of our life in jail!" Zoe wailed. "Quit crying!" Detective Bodenskya ordered. That just made all four woman cry louder. "What are these charged with?" A clerk asked. "They where in possession of a stolen car, attempted murder of a Police Officer and the transportation of explosives." Bodenskya explained. "Call Detective Knight!" Adriana said boldly, she walked up to Bodenskya as if the handcuffs she wore didn't matter. "He'll set all this straight!" "Why should we do that?" the clerk asked. "Please sir, we are staying with Dectective Knight," Mindy told him. "We're the Knighties." "Knight, are you related to Detective Knight?" Bodenskya's blue eyes narrowed. "In a way." Katrinka told him. "We're part of his tribe." "First Nation?" "Katrinka's a Gypsy!" Adriana told him. "Romany Adriana, Rom." Katrinka hissed. "We don't call ourselves Gypsies!" "After your processed, you can call him." Detective Bodenskya finally agreed. ********************* The Six woman huddled in a corner of the waiting cell. Adriana had the courage to call Nick. One hundred minutes later, he still wasn't there. "Why won't he come?" Katrinka sobbed. "He's left us out to dry!" Mindy sobbed. "I am going to spend the rest of my life in jail!" Gemsong wailed. "I bet they don't let you celebrate birthdays in prison!" "I thought you didn't want this birthday." Adriana pointed out. "My cookies tried to kill a cop. I am going down." Zoe couldn't stop crying. "I'll never cook again, I'll never cook again." Finally Nick came into the cell area. He did not seem happy. He was followed by Bodenskaya. He looked down to the six Knighties, who shrank back at his disaproving gaze. "Is this them?" "Yes, Detective Knight." Bodenskya looked at Katrinka. "This is the gang." "Hardened criminals then?" "I think so. They probably spend the rest of their lives in prison." "Then there's nothing we can do." "NO, nothing." the man said disaproving, his gaze never going off of Katrinka. "There is a good prison near the artic circle. They will probably go there!" The six Knighties began to wail. Nick watched them cry for several moments, then opened the door to the cell. He walked to Katrinka and handed her the scarlet glasses case. The Knightie put them on. "Thank you," "Now she can see in jail!" Mindy tried to wipe her eyes. "I explained to the Officer that I reported my caddie stolen. That was why you where arrested." "You put an APB on us?" Adriana got to her feet. "Your the one that told us to deliever cookies!" "I put an APB out on my car. I also tried to find out who the car you drove belonged to. Apparently the clerk got the messages mixed up." Nick explained. "you'll still have to appear in front of a Judge. If you behave yourselves, he will treat you lightly." "What does that mean?" Zoe asked. "I've bailed you out. Under the condition that you behave yourselves." "We'll do our best." Adriana promised. "I have a cab waiting for you. Your to take it back to the loft. Don't go *anywhere* without telling me." People where scared of LaCroix when he was angry? Nick looked just as frightening. "We won't." Katrinka promised. Nick handed a tissue to Gemsong. "We can't have you spending your birthday in jail." Gemsong took the offering. "Thank you Nick." "I have some paperwork to complete about you. But tell Nancy and Roz I should be back in a couple of hours." Nick told them. The Knighties left the cell. Katrinka couldn't help but look at Detective Bodenskaya as they left. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- Congrats to our GROW TO GIVE winners, ZENtertainment & ROTInews! http://www.onelist.com Check out ONElist's latest program, FRIENDS & FAMILY. See homepage. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IgAF-0000hz-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:32:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3993; Sun, 22 Aug 99 18:30:22 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9232; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:30:22 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:30:21 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War: Knighties: A Curry And A Car To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 98dfc551e19e0673a7e4299f4100d2d2 A Curry and A Car by Knightie Katrinka Knighties and Nick used with permission Time: thirty minute after Glasses. 5:00 am Wednesday August 18, 1999 Nick was standing in the middle of the kitchen, pouring over a cookbook. Gemsong, bowl full of ingredients ran into him. "I'm sorry Nick!" Gemsong began to pick up the ingredients. Nick bent down and helped her pick them up. "Next time try and be more careful." "It might help if you didn't stand in the middle of the kitchen!" Roz said. "Where could I read?" "Are you going to read or cook?" Adriana pushed a cart load of ingredients and other items to one of the other ovens. Nick followed beside her, looking into the cart. "What are you cooking?" "Breakfast. If Katrinka and Gemsong are going to make cookies, I am going to make breakfast." "But I haven't been to bed yet!" Nick told the woman. "it's too early for breakfast. Perhaps after a few hours of sleep we can have breakfast." Adriana glanced at her watch. "It's only 5 am. Thanks to you, everyone's awake. I am going to have to feed the Knighties now, not when you wake up!" "Are you going to make curry?" there was hope in Nick's voice. "NO! I don't make curry!" "But curry is so good!" "You get sick when you eat curry!" "I won't this time, promise!" Nick was distracted by the sight of Katrinka holding a package of chocolate chips to her face, reading it. Then the woman opened the package, and dumped it in a bowl. "It's all ready Zoe, just stir it up, and put it on cookie sheets." "Thanks Kat," Zoe smiled. Katrinka walked out of the kitchen, and ran into Nick. "Sorry Nick." Nick grabbed her by the shoulders. "Your doing good." "Thanks," "Would you help me cook?" "But I'm supposed to be supervising Zoe!" "What harm can she do by simply putting cookies in the oven?" Nick smiled slowly. "I need you Katrinka." Katrinka looked up into Nick's eyes. She melted. "All right, I'll help." *********** Ten minutes later, Nick was again pouring over his cookbook. Stephers came up to her. "Kat, did you touch the caddie?" "No, why?" "Are you sure you didn't paint it? It's turned a bright curry color!" The cookbook fell to the ground. "What color is my car?" "It's curry. You know, a nice dark yellow color. It's the same shade of Katrinka's curry." Nick grabbed Katrinka by the wrist, and Zoe with the other hand. The Dectective litterly drug the two woman to the garage. The Nearsighted one could see a large dark yellow blob. Moving closer Katrinka could see a dark yellow low riding caddy. It was quite obvious that this wasn't Nick's. "Nick's car!" Zoe almost sobbed. "Why did you do this to Nick's car?" "It isn't my car," Nick said. "It doesn't look anything like it!" "That's because Katrinka painted it!" Zoe accused. "I didn't." Katrinka said confused. "I don't know who did it, but it wasn't me." "It had to be the Dark Perk's!" Nancy came into the garage. "Your right, if they where able to make the caddie a low rider, they might have repainted it with a slow acting paint." Nick reasoned. "A slow acting paint?" Katrinka repeated. "It could be a part of the undercoat. In time, it could have been revealed." Nick turned back to Katrinka. "Car's can be painted. Let's get back to cooking!" ************** "Okay, add three cups of flour." Katrinka read. Detective Nick Knight picked up the container of flour, and dumped it in the bowl. Part of it landed in the bowl, the other half landed on the floor. Nick began to cough and waved the air. "Why didn't you tell me that cooking was so dangerous?" he accused. "It usually isn't," "No wonder Zoe blows things up! Cooking can ruin your health!" Katrinka stiffled a gigle as she looked at the flour covered Nick. "Like anything, cooking takes practice." "Did I get four cups in?" Katrinka glanced into the bowl. "Looks like it." "Wonderful!" Nick seemed pleased. "The recipe said *three* cups." "Same difference. We'll add a little more liquid!" Nick's smile grew wider. "What do we need now?" Katrinka held the book to her face. "Chocolate chips." Nick began to look for the chocolate chips. He eventually came back with a bowl of unwrapped chocolate kisses. "Nick that isn't..." Katrinka said before the former-vampire dumped the cookies into the bowl. "We need vanilla next." Nick went in search of vanilla. He came back with a bottle of orange liquor and added a swig. "Nick, that wasn't in the recipe!" "What does it matter? The cookie will taste like orange." "Brown sugar is next. We need sugar not salt." Nick came back with powered sugar, and put it in the bowl. Then when told to put in some salt, he put in pepper. The dectective also added a cup of uncooked oatmeal. When the cookies went into the oven, they where orange lumps. When they came out of the oven, the cookies where dark orange lumps. **************** An hour later, the Knighties where packing up the cookies. Nick was putting his cookies in a shoebox. "Can you deliver this to Dr. Lambert?" "I suppose," Katrinka felt a bit guilty that Nick was such a horrid cook. "Please," he looked into Katrinka's eyes and smiled. Katrinka made a mental note to stop by the bakery on the way to the morgue. There was no way that Katrinka would ever let Dr. Lambert get the lumps of brick-like cookies that Nick made. From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IgDC-0000mf-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:35:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4009; Sun, 22 Aug 99 18:33:25 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9505; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:33:25 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 17:34:00 -0500 Reply-To: "J. Michele Freemon" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "J. Michele Freemon" Subject: WAR: UF: Welcome to Margaritaville (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b5bc25026fb4c661d8da115e3491b7aa Title: UF: Welcome to Margaritaville Author: 'Chele Freemon Time: Saturday, August 21st, evening Location: The Pitted Peach All participants used with permission. As the small group of UFers walked into the Pitted Peach, 'Chele started to growl again, but quickly subsided, raising a hand to her cheek. She certainly didn't want any of the others to have to slap her again. They had seemed to enjoy the opportunity far too much when she'd gone into hysterics upon first seeing what the Jeweled Peach had been turned into. She edged slightly away from Julia, Megan, Cleo and Presence, smiling brightly when Cleo shot her a wary look, and vowing to refain from any more Addict-like behavior. Even Megan, the other sometimes NAer, hadn't seemed very sympathetic. She glanced around the biker bar curiously, but when Julia tried to steer them towards one of the tables, she protested and turned towards the bar, instead. "Trust me," she said to the others, "after I sing, I'm going to need alcohol immediately. No time for waitresses." "Why not have a few first?" asked Megan quietly. "That's what I'm going to do." "I can't sing when I drink," 'Chele explained. "My notes go all flat. So I'm gonna get the singing out of the way, then get drunk enough so the bad singers are just funny, not painful." She grinned at her friend, hopped up onto a stool at the long bar and twirled to look curiously at the karaoke setup next to the stage. The precarious piles of CDs reassured her that Rae would probably have her song, as well as any other anyone might want. 'Chele's attention was drawn back to the bar by Julia's insistent voice. "No, you don't *want* to hear me attempt to sing. It would be cruel and unusual punishment, even by the standards of FK War," she was saying firmly to Presence, who raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, it was just a question," Presence soothed. Just then, the bartender came up to take their orders. "He looks like a brown-eyed Vachon," Cleo noted after he had moved away, rolling her eyes. "So does that one," Presence added, pointing down the bar to the other bartender. "Weird." "Not weird," Julia put in. "They *are* Vaqueras, after all." 'Chele decided that she wanted to get drunk before the evening progressed any further, or any more Vachon clones showed up, so when the song ended, she stood up, straightened her plain black silk blouse and adjusted the colorful sarong knotted over one hip. Humming under her breath, she wove through the tables to the stage. Rae was just about to light another cigarette, when 'Chele stepped up. "Do you have Billy Joel's Greatest Hits, Volume 3?" Rae nodded and 'Chele grinned. "Play track 15, 'To Make You Feel My Love.' Thanks." Rae turned to sort through the CDs and 'Chele mounted the stage. She took the mic and cleared her throat. "This is dedicated to all those who believe in love without limits." When no one had fled the vicinity after the first verse in her smoky tenor, 'Chele relaxed a little and let the jazzy music wash over her, sending up a last prayer that the three months of voice lessons last year hadn't been a total waste, then singing her heart out, just like her teacher had told her to do. "When the rain is blowing in your face And the whole world is on your case I could offer you a warm embrace To make you feel my love "When evening shadows and the stars appear And there is no one there to dry your tears I could hold you for a million years To make you feel my love "I know you haven't made your mind up yet But I would never do you wrong I've known it from the moment that we met No doubt in my mind where you belong..." "I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue I'd go crawling down the avenue There's nothing that I wouldn't do To make you feel my love "The storms are raging on the rollin' sea And on the highway of regret The winds of change are blowing wild and free You ain't seen nothing like me yet "I could make you happy, make your dreams come true There's nothing that I would not do Go to the ends of the earth for you To make you feel my love "There is nothing that I would not do To make you feel my love" The applause was light, but it *was* early and no one was booing, at least. When she got back to the bar, 'Chele waved over the bartender. "A margarita. And use the good liquor." She turned back to watch Rae watching the next singer and tried to guess how much longer the ash hanging from the end of her cigarette would continue to defy gravity. The Vachon-esque bartender returned and set a glass down in front of her. 'Chele picked it up and took a gulp, then grimaced and hastily swallowed. "What is *this*? No, *no*, NO!" She glared at the bartender, who took two hasty steps backward. "*This* is *not* a margarita. You!" she barked at the bartender. "What's your name?" "M-m-m-michael." 'Chele blinked for a moment, decided stuttering should not interfere with making a proper drink and went back on the attack. "What kind of bartender are you? You work in a place called 'Spanish Lily's' and you can't make a decent margarita?" "I-I'm n-n-not a b-b-b-bartender. I-I-I'm an a-a-actor," Michael replied, blinking rapidly. Presence clapped a hand over her mouth at this statement, but 'Chele could still hear the laughter trying to escape. The UFer gave a long-suffering sigh and hopped off her barstool. She made her way back behind the bar, shaking her head and muttering the entire way. "Don't know why I come to these things. Never can get a decent drink north of Amarillo." When she got to the bartender, she favored him with another glare and a pointing finger. "You. Observe. The *proper* way to make a margarita." She dug around in the coolers under the bar, coming up with a large container of limeade. "Is this all you have? No fresh lime juice?" The bartender swallowed, shook his head and replied, "O-O-Only f-f-f-fresh limes." (continued in part 2) From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IgDL-0000mt-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:35:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0366; Sun, 22 Aug 99 18:33:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9536; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:33:33 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 17:34:00 -0500 Reply-To: "J. Michele Freemon" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "J. Michele Freemon" Subject: WAR: UF: Welcome to Margaritaville (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cdacd3ff3bedb73ae145b5d446f40312 Title: UF: Welcome to Margaritaville Author: 'Chele Freemon Time: Saturday, August 21st, evening Location: The Pitted Peach All participants used with permission. (continued from part 1) 'Chele growled, just a little. "I *should* make you squeeze them. All right, this'll do." She turned to the bottles lined up against the wall behind the bar. Spotting the Triple Sec, she set it next to the limeade, then ran her eyes over the bottles again. "Where's the Cuervo 1800?" The bartender pointed and 'Chele grabbed the pyramid bottle, turning again to the bar, where the other UFers were watching, somewhat nervously. "Okay. You take a glass like this," she held up a small mixed-drinks glass, "and you wet the rim, then dunk it in the salt. Now, a true margarita comes on the rocks. Don't you serve any of those frozen things, understand?" She dumped some ice in the glass as the bartender nodded, wide-eyed. "Two jiggers of Cuervo 1800, a half-jigger, plus a dollop, of Triple Sec, fill it to the brim with lime juice, or limeade," she added with a grimace, "and voila! A *properly*-made margarita." She turned on the hapless bartender. "Got that?" "Uh, yes, m-m-ma'am." "Good. Make 'em that way from now on. And start with three for my friends here." She gestured to Cleo, Presence and Megan. "They're gonna sing tonight, they need some courage. I'll watch and make sure you get it right." The bartender quickly made three more proper margaritas and 'Chele gave each the Texan Taste Test OK before passing them on to the giggling UFers. She picked up her own margarita and headed back around the bar, just in time to placate a couple of Vaqueras coming to see what the fuss was all about. As she sat back down, the current singer finished and Rae took back the mic, cajoling the audience to be brave and give it a try. Cleo downed her margarita too fast to really taste it, then stood and tapped Presence on the shoulder. Presence paled and finished her margarita even faster than Cleo had. The two made their way to the stage. Cleo whispered to Rae, who handed her the mic and pointed Presence toward another before she turned to dig through her CDs for a minute before sliding one in. The sweet strains of Loreena McKennitt's "Dante's Prayer" wafted through the bar and Cleo started to sing in a sweet soprano. Presence joined in on the choruses, her voice a little shaky, but passable. "When the dark wood fell before me And all the paths were overgrown When the priests of pride say there is no other way I tilled the sorrow's of stone. "I did not believe because I could not see Though you came to me in the night When the dawn seemed forever lost You showed me your love in the light of the stars. "Cast your eyes on the ocean Cast your soul to the sea When the dark night seems endless Please remember me. "Then the mountain rose before me By the deep well of desire >From the fountain of forgiveness Beyond the ice and the fire. "Cast your eyes of the ocean Cast your soul to the sea When the dark night seems endless Please remember me. "Though we share this humble path, alone How fragile is the heart Oh give these clay feet wings to fly To touch the face of the stars. "Breath life into this feeble heart Lift this mortal veil of fear Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears We'll rise above these earthly cares. "Cast your eyes on the ocean Cast your soul to the sea When the dark night seems endless Please remember me Please remember me." The Ufers at the bar led the applause for the pair as they made their way back to where 'Chele had fresh margaritas waiting for them. Rae hopped back up on the stage and called for "the next sucker to come on down." 'Chele raised the last of her third margarita to her lips and caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. The winged yin-yang tattoo on Megan's right shoulder blade was shaking again. In fact, now that 'Chele was calm enough to observe the other UFer a little more carefully, she saw what looked suspiciously like hearty laughter as Megan looked around at the changes the Vaqs had made. 'Chele's eyes narrowed and she made a firm resolution to keep an eye on Megan in the future. Luckily, said drunken resolution was swept into the ether by the appearance of the fourth properly-made margarita. In the ether, the fanfic watch faeries pounced on the resolution and found that it was indeed nice and firm. One of them noticed the 'No Crossovers' tag, glanced over his shoulder and ripped it off before sending the resolution off to be used in a 'Starsky and Hutch' story (a slash story, of course, said resolution having come from a UFer). Megan, having finished three of the properly-made margaritas that 'Chele had forced on her, was becoming braver and announced that it was time to sing. Several overly-inebriated, overly-helpful UFers took that as a cue to playfully shove her in the direction of the thankfully-vacant microphone. Mounting the stage by sheer momentum, Megan stumbled over to the mic and, finding herself in the spotlight, requested "We Belong" by Pat Benatar. The audience, having assumed that tense posture known to karaoke aficionados everywhere, relaxed again after the first line. Megan had a fairly good voice, so no one was going to be forced to run from the building screaming with bleeding ears. At least not during this song. "Twenty times I've tried to tell you Twenty times I've cried alone Always, I'm surprised how well you cut my feelings to the bone Don't want to leave you, really I've invested too much time To give you up that easy, to the doubts that complicate your mind We belong to the night, we belong to the thunder We belong to the sound of the words we're both falling under Whatever we deny or embrace, for worse or for better We belong, we belong, we belong together..." Megan returned to the bar to find Julia giggling as she watched 'Chele informing Michael, "You, sir, have indeed mastered the art of the *proper* margarita. Congratulations to you. And now that you know how to make a *proper* margarita, you can come down to Texas and get a job in Austin. We're the Third Coast, you know. Lot of movies made in Austin these days." Megan rescued the poor man by asking for another drink and from that point on, the group got drunker and drunker and sillier and sillier, ending the evening by serenading the cab driver with all the UFish songs for which they could remember the lyrics, or at least *some* of the lyrics. *FINIS* From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IhM7-0003Hh-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 19:48:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4385; Sun, 22 Aug 99 19:45:49 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5277; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 19:45:49 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 17:50:35 -0600 Reply-To: Kimberly Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: "But I'm Feeling Much Better, Now" Part 1 of 1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d9b25680acd1422cd13321f1f1cc51ad "But I'm Feeling Much Better Now" written by Kimberly S. Brown date: Tuesday, August 17, 1999 time: early morning, after the Enforcers attack Monday night Janette and Kimberly were relaxing in a wonderful, warm mineral bath. The vapors rose, the scent of the minerals as refreshing as the feel of the water on their skin. After the attack the previous night by the Enforcers, Jean-Claude, the owner of a wonderful spa in Toronto called Night Bloom, had opened his doors to Janette and Kimberly. Janette's hair was returned to its' beautiful raven-coloured tresses by his best colourist. She received a manicure, a pedicure, a facial and two massages while Kimberly received a well-deserved tongue-lashing of a lifetime. However, before the ladies left to return to the Raven, Jean-Claude had enticed Janette to try the mineral bath spa. She agreed, and was calmed down to the point that she asked Kimberly to join her. The ravenette was eternally grateful. They soaked for a very long time in silence. At last, Janette spoke. "You know, Kimberly, I have been thinking about this War going on in Toronto and the devoted factions involved". "Yes?" Kimberly inquired pensively. "The various faction members, they are like living chess pieces, you know? Soon, it will be time for me to move my chess pieces". Janette had a wicked gleam in her eye that Kimberly was very thankful to see returned. The two ladies regretfully decided it was time to leave their mineral bath. Refreshed and revived, and clothed in excellent clothing Jean-Claude had sent an aide to purchase for them, Janette and Kimberly made their way back out on the street. It was truly a beautiful day in Toronto. Janette turned thoughtfully to Kimberly and said, "By the way, what time does that delightful Godiva store open?". Kimberly replied, "Not until 11 o'clock. But, I would be more than happy to be there and be their first customer of the day." Janette nodded happily and said, "Yes, yes you will be, ma cherie. You must pick up a few things. Not only for me and the other Ravenettes, but you will be needing to pick up some very large, special boxes of chocolates for some friends of ours". Kimberly would have purchased the whole entire store and brought it back to the Raven. She just wanted Janette to be happy again, and it looked like indeed she was. End -- Kimberly Ravenettes faction leader, war 10 aol im kimmertom icq #9306895 http://members.tripod.com/LeeAnnP/raven/index.htm http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IhgZ-0003pg-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:10:03 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4475; Sun, 22 Aug 99 20:07:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6500; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:07:52 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 19:09:46 -0500 Reply-To: litemoon@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Prince Subject: WAR: CUZ: Jobs and Chocolate and Revenge, oh MY! (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5959bfb398b46a1bfa1220b483539859 WAR: CUZ: Jobs and Chocolate and Revenge, oh MY! When: Wednesday morning Where: CERK Who: Isabella, the Cousinly Receptionist, Butch the delivery guy, Cousine Celeste and Cousin Lisa WAR: CUZ: Jobs and Chocolate and Revenge, oh MY! By: Cousin Lisa and Cousine Celeste Isabella, the Cousinly Receptionist was again snoozing at her post. The Cousinly leaders would not be pleased, but at least she was sitting at the desk sleeping rather than under it where they'd found her a few days earlier. Since arriving in Toronto, the Cousinly Receptionist had been having the most amazing, enjoyable dreams. The smitten grin on her face would have given the subject of her dreams away in a heartbeat, but since no one was around to see her -- and the fact that this is a PG War -- her dreams would remain her own. 'Once upon a morning dreary, while she slept all warm and cozy, Over many an R-rated and LaCroix filled dream of yore, While she nodded, totally napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone heavily rapping, rapping at CERK's front door. 'Tis a deliveryman,' she muttered, 'tapping at CERK's front door -- A delivery, and nothing more.' Isabella stumbled for the door, fumbling for her keys and wiping sleep from her eyes. "'bout time," snapped Butch the delivery man who was extremely disgruntled and we all know what disgruntled delivery men are like... or maybe not, I don't think I've ever come across a non-disgruntled delivery man...especially not a non-disgruntled delivery man named Butch. Opps, I digress...onward. "Got a delivery here for a...'Cousinly Merc Lisa,'" rasped Butch around the cigar butt he was munching on. "Huh? I don't think we have anyone here by that name. Let me go check my log," the receptionist said as she hurried to her post. "Hurry up, lady! I've got a truck full of pink plastic lawn furniture to deliver to a," he looked down to consult his clipboard before continuing, "'Dark Perk' headquarters." The receptionist flipped through page after page before she found an obscure reference. "Here it is," she read, "'Cousin Lisa from Connecticut has been known to hire herself out as Cousinly Merc Lisa. She was partially turned into a Merc by former GHP DianneDS and is still known to accept a job when it strikes her fancy or when she's feeling kind of bored.' She's here. Bring the delivery in." Butch, the stoogie-chewing, disgruntled delivery man, turned around, bent over, giving Isabella a real clear look at a part of his anatomy that should only be seen by his mother or his wife. Due to Isabella's still groggy state of being, her reflexes were kind of slow and she didn't quite get her hand up in front of her eyes before Butch had given her the pleasure of a half moon -- or crescent moon, as the case may be. Isabella staggered about the lobby for a moment, gripping her eyes and moaning, "I'm blind. I'm blind. Oh, LaCroix, please help me. Return my sight -- as long as it's after that man stands back up -- and I promise never to fall asleep to my post again." With that she fell to her knees and clasped her hands in prayer. Meanwhile, Butch, the delivery man with the shiny...background, began dragging a 10-gallon drum into the lobby of CERK. He had a large box balanced on top of the barrel and a letter in his hand. He looked down at the praying receptionist and said, "Hey, lady? You gonna sign for this or not?" Isabella opened her eyes, first the left...and then the right...with much trepidation. She glanced around quickly, wide-eyed. Then she jumped to her feet, threw her arms wide and cried, "I can see! I can see! Praise LaCroix, I can see!" Handing the receptionist his clipboard and the letter that accompanied the packages, he said, "Yeah, whatever, sign on line 13." "13?" meeped Isabella, suddenly losing some of her enthusiasm over the return of her sight. "That's an unlucky number, you know. You never can be too careful, you know. Why bother trying your luck, you know? You wouldn't go walking under a ladder, you know? You would be playing on the floor with a black cat...no...wait...black cats are kind of cute, you know? Can't I sign 14 or something, you know?" she wheedled. "Look, lady, unless you want me to dump all that pink plastic lawn furniture in here, you're going to have to sign line 13. Now, hurry up and sign, I haven't got all day," he paused a minute before adding, "you know." Isabella thought about it for a moment before the image popped into her head of Tok and Tser requesting an explanation for the lobby full of pink furniture. That image was closely followed by her being called into LaCroix's office -- after he'd been de-humanized. She literally ripped the clipboard out of Butch's hands in her hurry to sign line 13. After signing, she went to find some help in bringing the delivery up to Cousin Lisa's rooms...or was that Cousinly Merc Lisa? ***************** Lisa sat re-reading the note that had come with the delivery, holding a miniature cassette and contemplating the 10-gallon drum filled with peanut M&Ms and the largest box of Godiva chocolate truffles she'd ever seen. The payment wasn't quite right, but she guessed she could live with it. Payment was supposed to be a 10-gallon drum of *blue* peanut M&Ms. The Godivas were a nice touch, though. All chocolate almond truffles. She could put herself into chocolate bliss for weeks with those things. The note read... 'Ah, distinctly I remember a Raven party was dismembered, When each of 4 Enforcement members wrought their filk upon the floor. Eagerly we wished for morrow; vainly sought escape in sorrow >From their mouths did pour the horror -- horror from the Not-Fab-Four. Revenge the poor and staggered patrons who'd been filked by the abomination. Damaged them, forevermore.' Lisa walked over to her oversized safe, unlocked it and pulled out some necessary equipment -- her black book, handheld tape recorder and a extra large candy dish. After picking out enough blue M&Ms to fill the bowl, Lisa put the lid back on the barrel, pushed it into the corner, popped a few M&Ms, put the cassette in the player and hit the play button. "Your assignment, if you choose to accept it, is to reap a little vengeance upon the Enforcements. The manner and mode are left to your discretion. As a group, they have wrought havoc on many a faction, this behavior shall not go unanswered. They have embarrassed us; it's time to embarrass them. Of course, if you are captured, we will deny any involvement. This tape will self-destruct in 60 seconds." 'Well...I have been kind of bored the last day or two. Looks like I've got some planning to do,' Lisa thought to herself as she picked up the phone and started to call in some of her markers. ***************** Several hours later ***************** Lisa finally put her cell phone down. With a sigh, she massaged her ear for a minute. Everything was all set up. Screed had agreed to help out and the people at the Jerry Tate Show had been thrilled to hear from her. The last time she had asked to bring some of her friends on the show, their ratings had jumped 5 points. Now, all she needed was some help from a few friends. Since she'd eaten all her peanut M&Ms while on the phone, she opened up the drum again and refilled her dish with sorted out blue ones. Then, checking to make sure everything was in order, she locked up her rooms and headed down to Cousine Celeste's office. ***************** Cousine Celeste had been silent, for once in her life, while Lisa explained what had been asked of her. She'd been monitoring the faction she liked to call "The Enforcer-ments" from the beginning and hadn't been pleased. They seemed to attack at will for no reason whatsoever and there was a mean-spirited edge to their actions that dismayed her. "I'm in!" the Cousine said. "What do you want me to do?" The irony of the situation appealed to her. "Are you enjoying those peanut M&Ms? You've got an awful lot of blues ones in that bowl." "Yeah, the payment is not quite right. I guess that particular hiring party didn't feel like getting just the blue ones for me," Lisa said while idly fingering the little chocolate-peanut candies. "I certainly wouldn't have done it," Celeste replied. "Maybe if you'd choose a more populous color or something -- like red." Lisa glanced up at her briefly before settled back down to business. "Okay," Lisa said as she spread her material on the Cousine's desk, "here's what we're going to do..." ***************************************** TO BE CONTINUED in 'I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human (1-6) ***************************************** Cousin Lisa litemoon@ix.netcom.com From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ihlo-00045Q-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:15:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3112; Sun, 22 Aug 99 20:13:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6669; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:13:12 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 17:11:30 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--Many Happy Returns To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c85a04bdaed8e97534c447ac555207f8 22 Aug 1999 The Shrine Toronto, ON 8:00 am Many Happy Returns By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia Felicia was the first to awaken after the Karaoke Party. That was typical, she almost never slept in. She went outside to go through her morning excercises, hoping the others would soon be up. An hour passed, and the Vaquera Adjutant, now fully alert, strolled back into the place that she and her faction had abided in for nearly a week. Looking around at the many changes they had instituted, Felicia was a little sorry that they were returning to their Church in just a short while. Then, remembering the terrible reaction that the former tenants had to the changes, she thought better. "So much for fun with fiction," she mumbled. Teresita wandered into the room and upon hearing her Vaq twin, said, "Nostalgic already, Twink? I know you're a historian, but sheesh! We haven't even left yet!" Felicia grinned. "Ah, I've always been nostalgic and sentimental. I was just thinking that it is prolly a good thing that we're goin' home today. " "I agree," came a voice from behind. This time, neither Vaq Twin jumped, and Vachon was disturbed. "This mortality thing is really beginning to bother me," he said. "I think you're right, Feleesh, I miss my cobwebs and candles." She rolled her blue eyes. "Only you, Javier, would admit missing cobwebs," Felicia laughed. The rest of the troops straggled in slowly. "What's so funny," Tabitha asked through a yawn. "And why are we up so early?" A chorus of "yeahs" and "no kiddings" followed. Felicia turned and faced her faction. "The time has come," the Vaq Brat Extrordinaire stated, "for us to return from whence we came. We must return things to the way they were." She opened the box which contained her Personal Tranquility Device. "Noooooo," Echo wailed when she realized what Felicia meant. "We don't have to change it back. Let's just leave it this way. It's much nicer, after all." The blonde smiled. "Yes, Echo, it's much nicer, *for a Vaq!* The NAs have made it abundantly clear that *they* don't think it's much nicer." Tracy Sue stepped forward. "I know this will be hard on all of us, guys, but it really is for the best." Felicia looked to her, and the VaqMadre nodded. Felicia held the PTD up. The irony hung heavily in the room as the Vaqs watched their Second in Command use the gift from the faction that they had so inadvertently ticked off. "In order to grant me the tranquility I so richly deserve, I wish that my Personal Tranquility Device would change this place back to exactly the same condition it was in before we moved in." The was a roll of thunder, and a crack of lightening, and suddenly the Vaqs found themselves standing in the middle of the Jewled Peach. Rae screamed and ran off. "What is that about," Teresita wondered. "Oh, I'll bet I know. She's an NA, ya know," Tracy Sue explained. "So?' "C'mon, I'll show you." The Vaqs trailed along after Tracy Sue. She led them to the pool. "She's having a Meltdown." Rae's eyes had glassed over and she was muttering uncontrollably. She suddenly swooned and fell into the pool. "Oh, brother," the Vaq Adj said, handing over a towel. Rae climbed out and began to dry her hair. They looked at the pool, and where Vachon had once stood gloriously in his leather, there was a mosaic. "I think I may cry," Echo said. "Ah, Echo, it's okay," Cliff laid a hand on her shoulder. "We'll let you fiddle with the Church, if you want to." "It's not the same thing." Felicia frowned. "No, Echo, it isn't. Hey, I wonder if they are gonna leave that pink gunk all over the Church. Not that Emma and I would mind too much. We're DPs, right Em?" She waited, but heard no response. "Emma? Where is she?" The Vaqs spread out calling for Emma. "I'll go check the stables," Tracy Sue said. There was no sign of her. "Y'all! When was the last time anyone saw her?" "Well," Rae said, "I saw her in the corner talking to Mar. . ." "Mary? As in Cousin Mary? Y'all know what that means?" Melissa smiled. "I think I do, Vaq Adj." "I'm with you, Twink." Vachon looked dubious. "Oh, no, don't tell me. . ." "Yup! C'mon, my little Conquistadore/ette Commandos! We're got a Mansion to menace!" The Vaqs formed a straight line and waited for instruction. Felicia stood before them, switching to General Lee mode. "Ready, Troops? At the quick step! Forward, march!" With the Vaq Adjutant General leading, the Vaqueros and Vaqueras jogged out of the Jeweled Peach. "Oh, the ratsies in this war, they say they're really fine, a bunch crashed the museum, and scared these Vaqs of mine! Oh, I don't want no more of Army Life. . ." she began. "Gee Mom, I wanna go, but they won't let me go, gee Mom, I wanna go home. . ." came the Troops' reply. Tracy Sue stumbled back from the stables a few minutes later. "She's not out th. . . Uh-oh! Now where have those Vaqs gotten off to now." She really didn't want to know. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2, Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!) Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ihll-000513-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:15:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0901; Sun, 22 Aug 99 20:13:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6692; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:13:14 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 19:11:54 -0500 Reply-To: litemoon@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Prince Subject: WAR: RAVEN: There's Nothing Like Raisinettes...I Mean...Ravenettes In The Morning To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b9ed4229caf852ca13c7ca5ff3b76da6 WAR: RAVEN: There's Nothing Like Raisinettes...I Mean...Ravenettes In The Morning When: Friday Morning, Aug. 20, approximately 8 a.m. Post reference: Immediately before "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'ol Human" (1-6) Where: The Raven...or Hell, depending on whether or not you're talking to Alexander or Kimberly and Caroline Who: Raven Alexander and Ravenettes Kimberly and Caroline Note: This post was written by someone outside the Ravenette faction. Permission for the use of the Raven and Ravenettes was given by Ravenette Kimberly and her approval post was garnered before posting, as specified in the rules. WAR: RAVEN: There's Nothing Like Raisinettes...I Mean...Ravenettes In The Morning By: Cousin Lisa Alexander was happily dreaming of beautiful, dark-haired women. A trio of them to be exact -- all of whom looked remarkably like Janette, all of whom were rather scantily clad. Janette would have been shocked, to say the least, about some of the things her look-alikes were about to do. Needless to say, this is War and Alexander was in for a rude awakening. Kimberly and Caroline stood in the darkened room and listened to Alexander mumbling in his sleep. When he began caressing his pillow, the pair grinned wickedly at each other before loudly saying, "Hey, Alexander, WAKE UP!" With a start, the Raven sat up, eyes wides, looking in all directions for the attack that must be in progress. When he saw only the two Ravenettes, he immediately regretted sitting up, which was closely followed by regretting his eyes were open, which was closely followed up by a wish for death. With a moan of pain, he closed his eyes and plopped back onto his pillow. He realized too late that he should have been a little bit more gentle with the plopping. "Come on, Alexander," Caroline said with far too much enthusiasm for 8 o'clock in the morning, "we want to go out. Look at what someone slipped under the front door. It's an invitation to a taping of the *Jerry Tate* show. We want to gooooooo." "I wouldn't exactly say 'we,'" Kimberly remarked dryly. When Alexander didn't move, Caroline sat down on the edge of his bed and started bouncing -- remarkably like a NatPacker it might be added -- and said, "Come on, Alexander, we went to go ouuuuttttt." If she hadn't been a Ravenette, someone might have thought she was whining. But, as Kimberly was always reminding her, Ravenettes do *NOT* whine. When the bouncing infiltrated his hung over being, Alexander popped open his left eye and contemplated the existence of black porcelain toilets in his very near future. "Can't you see I'm dying?" Alexander moaned, "go away." With that, he grabbed a pillow and covered his face -- assuming that what you can't see, can't hurt you -- boy, was he about to be proven wrong. Caroline began bouncing more vigorously on the edge of the bed and started whi...opps...*saying*, "I wanna see the talk show, I wanna see the talk show, I wanna see the *talk* *shoe*. Alexandeeeerrrrr. Alexandeerrrr. I wanna see the talk show and we're gonna be lllaaattteee." Alexander sat up quickly and threw a hand over his mouth. Caroline assumed Alexander was about to get up to go get ready for the show. She was disabused of that notion when her perky bottom came into contact, in a very jarring manner, with the floor as Alexander pushed her out of the way and ran for the bathroom. "You know," she remarked while rubbing her back side, "I've never seen Alexander move that quickly." Kimberly just shook her head and settled in to await his return. Several minutes later Alexander emerged from the bathroom gripping his head and moaning. Caroline was standing there pouting at him. Kimberly simply looked on disapprovingly while tapping her toe in impatience. "Wha...?" groaned Alexander when he noticed them. He wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with a pitcher of Bloody Marys, five gallon drum of aspirin and a pair of pliers to help remove the knife that was currently attempting to thrust its way through his skull. "Look, as much as I hate the thought, Caroline wants to go to this talk show...Thing," Kimberly said. "Now...we could go without you and you can explain to Janette why you let us go out without an escort...you remember her, right...the former female vampire with PMS for the first time in a thousand years? I'm sure she'd understand." Alexander blanched -- if that were possible considering he already had no blood in his face. "o'righ' o'righ' I getti' ready," he mumbled as he shuffled toward his closet. *********************************************** TO BE CONTINUED in WAR: CUZ: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human." *********************************************** Cousin Lisa litemoon@ix.netcom.com From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ihnz-00049B-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:17:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0916; Sun, 22 Aug 99 20:15:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6902; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:15:33 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 19:17:21 -0500 Reply-To: litemoon@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Prince Subject: WAR: CUZ/MERC: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human" (1/6) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c6c37bde1e81bee36d1487c2578a9a6c WAR: CUZ/MERC: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human" (1/6) When: Friday Morning Where: The studios of the Jerry Tate Show Characters: Cousinly Merc Lisa, Cousine Celeste, Cousins McLisa and Becky; Raven Alexander, Ravenette Kimberly and Caroline; Screed, Ratpackers Libby, Johnsie, Michele and Marissa; NatPacker James; Vaqueras Felicia, Tracy, Sue and Scott; Enforcements Cousin Raven, Steve, Kim, Enid, Maria, Katilina, Taryn, Amber and Kadira; Unnamed Faction April, Shelley and Susan; Light Cousins Arletta, Brandi, Annette and Cousin Shelley; N&NPackers Angela, Tammy and Chana; GSS Kim; Dolticus the demon, Tizzie the cat. WAR: CUZ/MERC: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human" (1/6) By: Cousin Lisa (also known as Cousinly Merc Lisa) Ravenettes Caroline and Kimberly were arguing heatedly in very soft voices about where they were going to sit. Alexander simply slouched next to them. He was dressed all in black, complete with black glasses that wrapped all the way around the sides of his face to prevent any light at all from getting at his extremely sensitive, hung-over eyes. "I want to sit in front," Caroline whined. "We are RAVENETTES," said Kimberly with much restraint, "we are NOT going to be seen on camera at a TALK show. Janette would absolutely pitch a hissy fit." At that moment, McLisa happened to be walking by and interjected, "My cat always says, 'If you're human is acting up, show her how much you love her by shredding her favorite shoes.'" Caroline thought that over for a moment before saying, "Uh-huh," to McLisa and agreeing reluctantly to follow Kimberly toward the back of the auditorium. Alexander followed behind them at a very, *very* slow pace. He was trying to move his body without allowing his head to move at all. Several Vaqueras stopped their conversation and looked at Alexander. "He looks like he's about to hurl," Felicia whispered to her companions. Nodding in agreement, Tracy said, "Yup, he's definitely got that tossing cookies look." "Well, if he's going to blow chunks," said Scott, "I don't want to be sitting near him." "Definitely," added Sue, "lets get away from him before he ralphs." "My cat always says, 'Hairballs belong on the furniture, not on humans." As the Vaqueras moved off to get to their seats, the could be overheard saying, "That's the Cousin I was telling you about. The one who talks to her cat and sometimes acts like one." At that moment, everyone's attention was drawn to the auditorium entrance, the Light Cousins had just arrived... with Cousin Shelley in tow. Arletta, Annette and Brandi had been on their way to the show when they ran into Cousin Shelley. They weren't quite sure what had happened, but since Shelley was carrying a pitchfork, dressed entirely in a pink -- Cousins just don't *do* pink -- and was talking in a really strange accent that appeared to be a cross between Germany, Romanian and the sound of those little old ladies talking on the subway in the Bronx. Anyway, the Light Cousins figured something was wrong with her and they better drag her along with them to keep her out of trouble. They might have been clued into the trouble by Shelley periodic outbursts of "DEATH TO THE OPPRESSORS.". After much wheddling and cajoling, Arletta finally had gotten Shelley calm enough so that the guards would let her in the studio...pitchfork and all. Shelley garnered many glances as she followed her friends to their seats. Chana turned to her fellow N&NPackers, Angela and Tammy, and said, "You know, that Cousin looks pretty in that pink." "'Pretty in Pink' was one of my favorite movies," Angela responded enthusiastically. "Mine too," said Tammy as the group headed for their seats they began discussing the finer points of 'Pretty in Pink' and red-haired actress named Molly. When the N&NPackers reached their seats, they smiled and waved at NatPacker James who was sitting one row back. James was hard to miss. Tall man, blond hair, blue eyes...he was Nick-like in so many ways...and he was a NatPacker. The women agreed, that man had some definite possibilities. The UFers April and Susan were in the corner discussing the finer points of the relationship between LaCroix and Nick with Cousin Becky. Thankfully the assistant producer asked everyone to go to their seats before things got too heated. ************************** TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2 ************************** Cousin Lisa litemoon@ix.netcom.com From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IhpF-0004BE-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:19:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4507; Sun, 22 Aug 99 20:16:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6978; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:16:48 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:18:36 EDT Reply-To: EAElias@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tammy Horn Subject: WAR: Vaqs: One Vaq, in Need of a Good Song or Two... (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cc26b66358280c66d849b3f7734fcb5b One Vaq, In Need of a Good Song or Two... (1/2) Where: The Pitted Peach Who: Tammy When: Sometime during the Karaoke party... By: Tammy Disclaimer below... "Well, here goes nothing," Tammy said as she wandered toward the stage. It=20 took her a good ten minutes to get through the throng of people that swelled=20 the interior of Vaq Headquarters. =20 She had sat looking through her CDs and her sheet music all night and most o= f=20 the next day, trying to figure out what she should sing. She still wasn't=20 sure as she headed up to tap Rae on the shoulder to get herself a place in=20 line.=20 "Rae, I think I'm ready." "Ok, you're up after these next two." Tammy nodded and grabbed one of the waiters. "Could you get me a Black and=20 Tan?" The waiter blinked at her. "It's a celtic thing." The waiter just shrugged and wandered off to get her order. When it got=20 there, Tammy sat sipping at the top layer of Guiness and waiting to be=20 called up on stage. "And now, here she is, The One, the Only Vaq Archeologist, Tammy. She'll be=20 singing.... Tams, what are you singing." She looked out over the crowd, seeing all the Urchins and Knighties and=20 Ravenettes etc, and decided to do a song that, while she was sure hardly=20 anyone had heard yet, would get them on their feet with its upbeat tune. =20 "Moments of You, by Rockapella." She said as she handed Rae a CD. "Tams, that's accapella, are you sure?" Rae asked as she put in the CD "Pretty sure." The sounds of a drum beat started up and Tammy started in... I realize that today Gratification=92s expected here and now Subtlety is my way But this ain=92t no time=20 For beating round the bush Guess I=92m guessing What I wanna say *Share with me the moments of you All I ask is all of your midnight Let me know the madness that makes you you While I=92m shaping all my moments with you Don=92t wanna scare you away But I never meant anything like I mean this Just when I look past today=20 I=92m seein happy and only cause of you *chorus Now that I=92ve stated my case I know I should probably leave this one alone But there=92s just too much at stake So you gotta tell me now what it=92s gonna be When she had finished the song, she looked around at all the people by the=20 stage, especially the Urchins and with a funloving wicked grin on her face,=20 and a knowing wink to VWT 1, said. "Look, a Kiddie Mosh Pit!" Disclaimer: Moments of you was written by the emensely talented Scott=20 Leonard of Rockapella. I would never, ever infringe on his copyright. From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IhqN-00057F-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:20:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0937; Sun, 22 Aug 99 20:18:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7192; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:17:58 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:19:44 EDT Reply-To: EAElias@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tammy Horn Subject: War: Vaqs: One Vaq, In Need of a Good Song or Two...(2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9f8dc46d2a061e0442ce6c5d52220dc9 One Vaq, in Need of a Good Song or Two...(2/2) Who: Tammy, one of the Troublesome "T"s Where: The Pitted Peach What: One more song.... Disclaimer: as bottom of the post. Tammy looked around at the crowd. She had been a DJ before, and had even sang a few songs with some house bands at this little bar out in the middle of nowhere in Wyoming, but this. This was too cool. "Rae?" Tammy turned to her fellow Vaq, Mistress of Ceremonies. "Please, ma'am, may I do another." "Ok, but make it quick," Rae was looking at the list of performers still to go on stage. "I will. Ok, here's one, um, for someone I care about a lot." She looked over at where Vachon was standing. The music played once again, this time to the tune of a country song... She's got you wrapped up in her satin and lace Tied around her little finger She got you thinkin' you can never escape Don't you know your hearts in danger There's a devil in that angel's face If you could only see the love that you're wasting I can love you better than that I know how to make you forget her All I'm asking is for one little chance Cause baby, I can love you baby, I can love you better I'm gonna break the spell she's got on you You're gonna wake up to find I'm your desire my intentions are true Hey babe I know in time You're gonna see what you mean to me So open up your eyes cause seeing is believing I can love you better than that I know how to make you forget her All I'm asking is for one little chance Cause baby, I can love you baby, I can love you better Tammy walked off stage and straight to her luke warm glass of beer. "That was embarassing," she thought, but was very glad she did it. "You only live once." Disclaimer: I Can Love You Better writen by Kostas & Pamela Brown Hayes. Preformed by the Dixie Chicks. No copyright infrigement meant. Please don't sue any of us... From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IiF5-0005Ml-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:45:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3233; Sun, 22 Aug 99 20:43:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8572; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:43:32 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:43:31 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War: Knighties: Nick's Six To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 86da3f8012688892c140040a08a6afc2 Nick's Six By Knightie Katrinka All Knighties used with permssion Time: Noonish Date: Wens August 18, 1999 Eowyn was waiting for the six formally imprisoned Knighties when they arrived. She ushered them upstairs. "Are we in trouble?" Zoe asked. "That isn't for me to say," Eowyn told her. "Then whose is it?" Katrinka asked. The elevator arrived, and Adriana opened the door. The entire faction of Knighties stood with their arms crossed, all of them glared at the Jailed Six. The hostility was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Mindy started backing up, running into Eowyn who pushed her into the loft. Fearless Adriana stepped around Mindy and went towards her accusers. "What happened wasn't our fault!" "Then whose was it?" Sandra demanded. "The Dark Perks for giving Nick a stolen caddie!" Eowyn pushed the reluctant Knighties into the loft. Until each stood in front of their accusers. "So the six of you didn't dump Nick's car, and steal another one?" Chris asked. "Of course we didn't!" Katrinka said firmly. "Then where did the car come from?" "It was the car the Dark Perks left instead of Nicks." "Yeah, right." Sandra snorted. "Their telling the truth. I saw the car they drove out of the garage. It wasn't Nick's caddie." Nancy admitted. "The Dark Perks did the old switcharoo." Stephers told them. "All that happened to us was that we where caught in their trap." "So what happened to Nick's caddie?" Eowyn asked. "I have no idea." "We will have to look for it. It has to be somewhere." Roz decided. 'Caddies don't just vanish." "What about their trying to blow up a police officer?" Nancy asked. "Something must be done about that." "Simple, from now on, Zoe is banned from the kitchen." As the explosive cook began to protest, Roz raised a hand. "It's the only way. You cannot put our faction at risk." Chris brought a plate of orange lumps to Nancy. "What did you do to make the cookies orange? What's in these?" "I don't know, I didn't make them!" "It looks like your handy work." Nancy pointed out. "My cookies weren't orange!" Zoe stamped her foot. "I didn't make BRICKS! The things you are holding look like BRICKS!" There was a gasp from the Knighties as Zoe said the forbidden word. Roz picked up a cookie. "Someone as talented as you must have made them." "It wasn't me!" "Then who made them?" Eowyn asked. "Nick made them." Katrinka admitted. "Nick made *these*???!!???!??!?" "He wanted me to give them to Dr. Lambert, but I switched them for some cookies that Gemsong had made." "Looks like we need to ban Nick from the kitchen too." Zoe grumbled. "We can't do that, it's his loft." Nancy looked around the group of formally incarcerated Knighties. "We just have to keep him occupied so he doesn't go near the kitchen." "How many of these inedible cookies did you deliver?" Roz asked. "None, we got lost." Mindy admitted. "It was Kat's fault!" "It wasn't my fault!" "So what is going to happen to us?" Adriana asked. "Are we being thrown out of the faction?" "That won't be nessary." Roz grinned evily. "The loft was torn up looking for Katrinka's glasses. The six of you will make the loft so clean that it will look like we never stayed here. Once you do that, you will be paroled." The Knighties let out a collective sigh of relief. "Of course you will still be under house arrest." Nancy told them. "We will find something for you to do in your spare time!" From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IiWo-0005ya-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:04:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3309; Sun, 22 Aug 99 21:01:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9553; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:01:53 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:06:33 -0700 Reply-To: Teresita Tazon Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Teresita Tazon Organization: Forever Knight-Vaquera w/ T&V tendencies Subject: WAR: VAQS; Vachon Turns the Tables To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e5a5ed34265d55d9de37ac028de36f61 WAR: VAQS Vachon Turns the Tables by Teresita Karaoke at The Pitted Peach Party started on Saturday Aug. 21, 1999 Time towards the end Vachon Turns the Tables By Teresita, a Troublesome "T" & Vaq Scribe # 1 Echo was on stage. The young O.I.D. not only had a flair for all things Vaq-ish, but was also a talented filk writer. She was doing an encore of the rally song she had penned for her first War. She was half-way through and the other Vaqs had joined in from their positions off-stage. They were right about here: CHORUS: War 10 belongs to the Vaqueros. Cuz our brilliant ideas, they do grow. We'll get wilder and wilder, As into the tenth war we go. BRIDGE #2 Other factions think us lazy. There's no doubt that we're crazy. But we're Vaqs. When we hang at Spanish Lily's... We're all still really silly. Cuz we're Vaqs. CHORUS Let the DPs strike, Their dementia will shock you. But we're well prepared, With our conquistador. When you're at the mic, For karaoke, they'll mock you. No one will be spared, Getting into the tenth war. BRIDGE # 2 War 10 belongs to the Vaqueros! Cuz our zany ideas, they do grow! They'll get wilder and wilder! As into the tenth war we go! Into War 10! Onward, Vaqs! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rae had been operating the karaoke machine for hours. Her only breaks had been when she sang, and a few quick trips to the ladies room during performances. Since Rae continuously sipped on her Captain Morgan's and Coke, this was a necessity, and not a true break Now she just wanted to join Javier, Juan, and her fellow Vaqs for a while. After finishing the Vaq Rally Song, the Vaqs had pushed several tables together and were recounting their daring karaoke exploits. The Vaq-Brats had Javier and Juan blushing several times. The Vaquero/as were elaborating on the meanings behind the seemingly innocent songs they had sung. Felicia's, Sarah's and Teresita's comments were growing more explicit as they dissected the song they had sung to Javs, 'Cool Rider' from Grease II . Javier and Juan had grown more embarrassed as the references headed beyond the boundaries of PG-13. They decided to leave the Vaqs to their interpretations. "Juan, let's shoot some pool, mi hermano." "I would like that, Javier," replied Juan. Rae spotted them. She had started think a little time off from the emceeing was not going to happen until later. Calling to Vachon, she beckoned Javier and Juan to where she stood by the CDs and the master controls for the karaoke system. "Javs, I need a favor," Raising an eyebrow towards Juan, "Do you mind?" "Not at all. Helping a lady is always more enjoyable than winning a game of pool against you," smiled Juan. "Rae launched into the fray with, "Guys! Can you take over here for about a half hour? I want to get off my feet for a while." "See you soon, and Javier, Juan, thanks!" Rae practically flew to the Vaq group, and was soon involved the laughter. ********************** "Do you know what all of these controls are for, Javier?" "Sure do. It's really pretty easy. Almost like putting a CD in Trace's stereo. Lemme show you." Vachon had shown Juan the basics, and he let him do the next couple of singers. Vachon was busy going through the CDs. "Look at this!' Javier exclaimed. "It's Wild Thing. The original version even. It's by a group called the Troggs." "The who?" asked Juan. "No, not the Who, the Troggs." Vachon laughed loudly. Juan joined in as he recognized the play on words, and he toasted Jav with his cerveza bottle. They clanked bottles with a thud that nearly smashed the glass. Teresita and Felicia looked at each other. Ter thought. Feleesh thought back. The Vaq Wonder Twins laughed at that and watched the pair more closely. The two (ex)vamps laughed again as Juan handed the microphone to Javier. While Juan inserted another CD, Javier headed toward the Vaq-Brat table. "Nobody's scheduled to sing from our group here," Rae stated. Tabitha moved her didjeridu to safety as she noted, "They're up to something. Jav has that gleam in eye." Javier gestured towards the extra Corona Teresita had brought from the bar. "May I?" "Anytime, Querido. Anytime," Teresita handed him the bottle with its requisite lime wedge. Tabs, having grown quite fond of tequila shooters, handed one of these to Javier as will. He downed the shot, and chased it with the cerveza. His grin widened and he finally explained why he had the mic. "You songs have been great, and I am very flattered." Vachon turned the mic on: "Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of my Vaquero/as, my brother Juan, and myself, thank you all for coming. Are you having a good time?" A cheer went up from everyone present. The Vaqs accepted the kudos with humble thank yous. They had wanted to give the factions a chance to enjoy each other as they put aside attacks and counterattacks for one night. "I am having a screamin' fine night myself!" Javier turned towards his followers. "My Vaq-Brats are all special in their own individual ways, " he began. "They have shown me loyalty, humor, compassion, and love." Javier waved a hand at Juan who cued the music. "This is for all of my War 10 Vaqueras and Vaqueros!" " Wild thing You make my heart sing You make everything groovy Wild thing Wild thing, I think I love you But I wanna know for sure Come on and hold me tight I love you Wild thing You make my heart sing You make everything groovy Wild thing" ------ instrumental break ------ (The Vaqs were up on their feet, dancing around Javier, egging him on. He weaved in and out amongst them, planting quick kisses on cheeks, and shaking Scott's hand. He had his VA drag a shy Juan out to join the Vaq Dance as he continued with his song.) "Wild thing, I think you move me But I wanna know for sure So c'mon and hold me tight You move me Wild thing You make my heart sing You make everything groovy Wild thing Wild thing C'mon, c'mon, wild thing Shake it, shake it, wild thing" [fade] As the music faded, a Vaq-Hug spontaneously occurred The Vaquero/as had loved it. Javier Vachon exuded confidence in himself and his faction family. He thought highly of his group, and his actions had shown that to all of Toronto. A few brave souls sang their songs before Karaoke at the Pitted Peach Night was over. The did very well, but went unnoticed because the Vaqs were flushed with their triumph (and some, their alcohol of choice). Karaoke Night was a success that was topped only by Javs' song to them. -fin- Teresita, a Troublesome"T" "Come on, hit me with your best shot! Fire away!" Vaq Brat and Proud of It!, VWT, Vaq Scribe #1 "Mi alma es Vaquera"="My soul is Vaquera" ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IiX2-0005yw-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:04:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1110; Sun, 22 Aug 99 21:02:06 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9579; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:02:07 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:03:29 EDT Reply-To: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Subject: WAR: FoD: From Chaos to Calm - A Scuba Adventure Part 2 of 3- corrections To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d59cd46be6fb0d66c0ce8519dcd1bece With our leader's kind permission, I just want to apologize for the "numbers" in Part 2 of this story (corrected by part 3. . somehow) and to correct the date of the adventure to be August 20 (no idea where the 11th came from but there it was, plain as day and quite a surprise!). Thanks. . . Kathy <===true FoD. . hates doing paperwork :) From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:39 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Iib0-00068x-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:08:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4698; Sun, 22 Aug 99 21:06:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9801; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:06:11 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:08:01 -0700 Reply-To: Evil Cousin Tiff Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: War: NA: Temperate Toenotes Lament (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b6692424ccd1d3e77605d31953c02a80 NA: Temperate Toenotes Lament (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff When: Sunday, moving back to the shrine Place: Our Ladies of Eternal Nunkies Permissions: I gave myself permission to use the Toenotes. ************************* It was time to be moving back to the shrine. Evil Cousin Tiff wanted all of the filming equipment back at the Shrine. And it was the job of the Toenotes to move it all. "I don't get it," Chad said lifting one box. "What don't you get?" Daryl asked. "Why are we going back to the Shrine?" "Because, I think construction is like, done," Travis answered. "Really?" Trevor responded picking up one of the larger boxes with his twin, Chip. The other Toenotes confirmed the statement. "I heard Tiff talking about it. We all need to get back to the Shrine for some holiday. Conversion Day I think they called it," Daryl stated. They all looked at him. "Must be a like some Canadian Holiday or something." "Oh, yeah!" Travis continued, "She wants us to film as much of it as possible." "I'm just glad that the Construction dudes will be gone when we get there," Trevor continued. They all started to move the boxes outside to the limo that awaited outside. "Why's that?" Chip asked. Trevor stopped and caused Chip to loose his grip, and they both dropped the large box. "Careful! That's expensive camera equipment in there!" Daryl said in his "I'm the Broody Leader of the group" voice. "Sorry," Trevor stated as he and his brother tried to pick up the really heavy box. "I just wanted to say that those Construction Dudes were just way rowdy and rude." "Yeah! They were just like *way* mean to us!" Chip continued. "What was their deal?" Travis added. "Maybe they're homophobic," Chad said non-chelantly. The other four boys stopped in their tracks and looked at Chad. "But we're not gay, Chad," Daryl stated. "We're NOT?!?" The four boys shook their heads at him. Sometimes they couldn't believe he was in the group. "Come on, dudes," Daryl said with that leader voice again. "We've got equipment to move. Let's go." And so they continued the move of all the filming stuff, in silence. Then waited for Tiff's next assignment for them. ************************* Fin *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:39 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IinF-0006cb-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:21:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3368; Sun, 22 Aug 99 21:18:49 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0586; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:18:49 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:15:26 -0700 Reply-To: Shele Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shele Subject: WAR: NA - The Poet and The Pea To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4e5c2e7c569ff733147cf8ba3ffa03bf Title: The Poet and The Pea Faction: Nunkies Anonymous Date/Time: Wednesday, August 18 @ bedtime (Please forgive the back dating, this post advances no plots) Follows: Guess Who's Coming To Dinner? (Part 4 of 4) and Warm Hands, Cold Heart (Part 1 of 1) Written by: Shele, with assistance from Ted, NA's fictional God of (FK) War The Poet and The Pea, a bedtime story.... Once upon a time, in a place not too different from this one, there lived an Addict. Now this Addict was not a wise and wonderful Scribe nor was she a sensible, yet stunning High Priestess. She had no talent for brawling nor hatching evil plans, or even for hatching happy ones. This Addict did have one small art, though, and she became known as the Poet Laureate. One day the Poet, along with her fellow Addicts, decided to move from the beautiful Shrine that had been their home for some years to a smelly rundown Church. After putting their own homey touches on their new abode, the Addicts threw a party. All of them got gussied up -- they curled their hair, they put on makeup, some went so far as to wear 'proper hosiery'! Everyone got dressed up except the Poet, that is. In fact, the Poet had not really been pulling her weight lately. Of course, this wasn't her fault since she'd been encased in cementing compound during a renovation accident at the Shrine and it is rather difficult to pull your own weight when you've been forced into playing a permanent game of statues! Frozen stiff, holes forced through the cement to accommodate only the barest of Addict needs, it seemed the only purpose the Poet could now serve was that of a giant paperweight. The other Addicts were good and kind hearted, yes, even KC, and they looked beyond the Poet's limitations and did their very best to include her in the activities. She went on errands with them; she sat in on plotting sessions and even played games with them. In fact, one of those games lies at the heart of this story. For on the night of their big party, some of the Addicts took turns at improving their hand-eye coordination by throwing peas into the small hole that had been drilled by the Poet's mouth. Over and over, peas came flying through the air. Some bounced off the Poet Proper, rolling away to parts unknown. Others were so well aimed that they made it straight though the small outer opening and into the Poet's mouth. Most of the peas, however, did not take either route, but passed though the outer shell only to bounce harmlessly against the Poet's cheek. These peas did not make their way back out of the shell, instead they fell down through the nooks and crannies of the Poet inhabited space like so many organic Pachinko balls. The sensation tickled the Poet and a good time was had by one and all. As the Poet tried to settle in for bed that night, however, try as she might, she could not get comfortable. This way, she was resting on body parts not accustomed to bearing such weight; that way, seven or eight peas were poking her. Seconds passed into minutes, minutes made their way into hours and hours seemed to become days until dawn finally arose. As was their morning ritual, the Addicts' Buff Slave Boys (BSB) asked their patrons how the night had been passed. As they pointed to the Poet, the Addicts' voices sounded as one, "I didn't sleep a wink, *she* kept me awake all night!" The BSBs were outraged but stymied -- This problem _must_ be rectified, but how?!? Their fevered whispering died down as their ranks parted to reveal a man. A tall man. A brave man. A *buff* man. He alone would fight. He alone would face the terror of.... The Poet and The Pea! Ignoring the cries of onlookers, not to mention the Poet herself, the man grabbed the cylindrical form, turned it upside-down and shook. And shook. And shook some more. One, two, five, nine...some twenty odd peas came tumbling out. But no matter how hard he shook, no matter how _long_ he shook, peas could still be heard rattling around the Poet. The tall, brave, buff man showed he was honest, too, by promising to never quit his task until the very last pea had been dislodged! So grateful was the Poet for the man's avowal that she agreed to be sequestered at nighttime to allow the other Addicts to sleep. What happened to the Poet, you might ask. When did all the peas finally come out? Both very good questions...questions for which I don't have the answer -- But to this very day, legend has it, if you listen very closely at bedtime, in a not so distant alcove of a not so distant Church, you can still hear the Poet being shook. From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Iinp-0002wO-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:21:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3372; Sun, 22 Aug 99 21:19:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0648; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:19:30 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 19:24:15 -0600 Reply-To: Kimberly Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LORNA!!!!!!!" Part 1 of 1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9c7ec072fc903ee4bbcef181bf84520e "Happy Birthday, Lorna!!!!!!" by Kimberly S. Brown Date: Sat. nite--Sun. morning Aug. 21-22, 1999 Place: Vacqueros Karoke Party, The Pitted Peach Kimberly led all the Ravenettes into the Pitted Peach around 10:00 p.m. The place was a-hoppin'! Kimberly suspected everyone was looking for a brief respite from War. It was Saturday night, and everyone was ready to kick up their heels. Janette, Miklos and Alma had closed the Raven for the night. Although they were not in attendance, they were looking forward to having the Raven all to themselves again for a little while. Janette took advantage of the Ravenettes night out for the three former vamps to enjoy some solitude. Earlier in the day, Janette had given Lorna a new velvet party dress and some beautiful new diamond earrings. "An early birthday present, darling," Janette had said to Lorna as she presented them to her. Lorna was thrilled, and all bedecked in the new dress and earrings. The rest of the Ravenettes had taken special care in getting dressed as well. They had not been this dressed up since the opening night party. It felt good to be "putting on the nines" again. Felicia and Rae came forward to greet the Ravenette faction. Kimberly and Teresa spent a few moments conspiring with the two Vacqs, and then Felicia and Rae moved on to greet other guests. Felicia and Rae and the rest of the Vacqs had been very accommodating hosts. For they knew that it was going to be Lorna's birthday on the 22nd, and so had made sure that the Ravenettes had the music they needed for the Karoke Birthday Intermission at midnight. Felicia had pointed out the section of the Pitted Peach she had set aside for the Ravenettes so they could be together for Lorna. Caroline and Julia and Kathy hurried over to their tables and ran around them deciding where they wanted to sit to get the best view. "Those three won't need too much encouraging to get up and belt out a song or two" Kimberly thought to herself, highly amused. The Ravenettes settled themselves in, and partook of much food and drink, giving themselves up to making merry. At exactly midnight, the Ravenettes did a rousing version of the Beatles "You Say It's Your Birthday" for Lorna, who was totally caught off-guard. She knew that Kimberly and Janette knew it was her birthday, but she had no idea that all of the Ravenettes and Vacqueros had conspired to celebrate her birthday at the karoke party. Lorna beamed happily, and dabbed a little at her eyes. She had never had a surprise party before. This was wonderful! Although she had felt a little homesick that morning that she would be spending her birthday in Toronto, now, surrounded by all these well-wishers, she felt like she was home. Alexander walked up to Lorna and bowed. "May I please have this dance?" he asked the birthday girl most gallantly. Lorna blushed a little, hesitated only briefly, and then got up to slow dance with Alexander while one of the party revelers did an Elvis imitation (not a bad one, at that) of "Love Me Tender". After the song was over, everyone clapped and Alexander and Lorna sat down. The Ravenettes took turns doing favorite songs of Lorna's. Lorna had quite the eclectic taste in music, so it was very much fun. In honor of Lorna's birthday, everyone heard: "That River" Jim Byrnes, from his blues album "That River". "Sentimental Journey" done like Barry Manilow on his album, "Singin' With the Big Bands" "One Voice" from Queen's album "It's A Kind Of Magic", all the crowd got to howlin' on that one! "Candle In The Wind" done like Elton John's original version and, to keep things totally weird and interesting, Kiss's "Beth". When the Ravenettes were done serenading Lorna, Kimberly, Teresa, and Claudia helped Felicia wheel out a huge cake, which had been decorated by one of Toronto's most famous decorators. Janette had made a call, and it had gotten done most quickly. A single sparkler shined, in a corner section of the beautiful cake, done in an amazing replica of Toronto's night skyline. Lorna would never forget her birthday she spent in Toronto.......... Love You, Lorna!!!!!!! All the best!!!!!! The Ravenettes and Vacqueros End -- Kimberly Ravenettes faction leader, war 10 aol im kimmertom icq #9306895 http://members.tripod.com/LeeAnnP/raven/index.htm http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IiwT-0006yj-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:30:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1234; Sun, 22 Aug 99 21:28:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1197; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:28:23 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 01:30:27 +0000 Reply-To: morgaine@ATT.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Amber Gorby Subject: WAR: CotK: "The Llama Gets a Klew" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9bfba3b3ee775f66c948e9a3b2659b36 Title: "The Llama Gets a Klew" (01/01) Setting: the CotK Comfy Cottage Time: Thursday night, immediately following "An Uneventful Evening...Or Was It?" Written by: Morgaine, with Margie and Kyer "Margie! Anjali! J.L.!" Morgaine and Lisa rushed full force at the Comfy Cottage front door, Morgaine leading the way...or at least attempting to. "Um, Morgaine, the doorway works better when the door is opened." Lisa smiled at her flustered friend. "Oh, yeah. Makes sense." Morgaine shook her head. The two entered the Cottage, and headed straight for the kitchen. Remembering the door this time, Morgaine raced in, Lisa right behind her. Margie and Anjali, who were busy putting away groceries, turned to greet them. "Hi guys," said Margie. "Something wrong?" Lisa spoke up. "No, something kewl! We found something that might have to do with the war." As Lisa explained what happened to Margie, Anjali, half- listening to what was said, greeted her dueling companion Morgaine. Morgaine began to help her fill the cookie jar. "Hey, Anjali." "Yeah?" Morgaine placed a smaller cookie on the palm of her hand. "Snatch the cookie from my hand." "Huh? Wrong show, Morgaine." "When you can snatch the cookie from my hand, you will be ready to leave this cottage." Anjali wondered whether or not she should encourage her friend's weirdness, but made a try for it anyway, and triumphantly held up the cookie. She popped it into her mouth. Morgaine pouted. "I was not ready." Margie spoke up. "So where's Kyer? I wanna see this thing." Morgaine's pout turned into a puzzled frown. "Good question. She was right behind us." A cry came from the living room. "Aaack! That was totally uncalled for!" Exchanging confused looks, Margie and Lisa bolted out of the kitchen. Morgaine followed, beckoning to Anjali. "Trouble in the temple. C'mon, let's go where the action is!" It was next to the couch, as it turns out. Her faction- mates found Kyer standing there, trying to wipe her eye and shake her finger at Mr. Spitz with one hand. "Bad llama! You do that again, I'm gonna feed you to Morgaine's Space Chickens!" "What happened, Kyer?" The Arizonan spoke while glancing disapprovingly at her puppet. Morgaine stifled a giggle - the look reminded her of that "disappointed parent" glare LaCroix gave Nick in "Father's Day". "Well, I was just telling Mr. Spitz as we came in - no Mr. Spitz, they asked *me* what happened! - so anyway, I was telling him how he should have stayed quiet so we - yes, *we* - wouldn't have to baby-sit a thingy that very well could be fiendish. I suggested we give it to someone else, and of course he refused, being the stubborn mammal that he is. So I asked if I could just *look* at the thing, and as soon as I touch it, BAM! He goes nuts and squirts me in the eye with garlic juice!" Mr. Spitz showed no sign of remorse. "Sounds like your puppet has gotten rather attached to the thing, Kyer." At the sound of J.L.'s voice, everyone turned. Their resident technology expert, who had apparently been listening, waved. Lisa smiled at the sight of their rarely-seen CotK. "Wow, she emerges." J.L. strolled over to Kyer and looked at the strange charm on the llama's new necklace. "Hmmm." "It won't...um...*explode*, will it?" Kyer asked J.L. worriedly as she supported the spaniel-sized puppet. "I'm allergic to close-and-up-personal like explosions--- so is Mr. Spitz." J.L. reached out to examine it more closely. Mr. Spitz via Kyer's arm violently jerked away. "Mr. Spitz! That was rude!" Kyer gave J.L. an apologetic look. "Sorry about that...but he's gotten really attached to the thing. Thinks it makes him look like a 'Star Trek' character or something. You're getting really weird on me, Mr. Spitz." "It's okay, Kyer." J.L. looked at the "thingy" a moment longer and stepped back. "Morgaine, do you remember any 'Star Trek' episodes like this?" The red-haired teen thought for a moment. "Well, it doesn't look like a Tribble. But then there was that one episode of 'The Next Generation' where this fiendish game thingy made everyone go totally nuts. And it seemed so harmless at first..." "Um, Morgaine?" Margie gestured to Kyer, whose eyes were widening at the thought. "Oh, sorry." Morgaine smiled sheepishly. "Mr. Spitz likes me, maybe I could..." She reached for the small cube, and Kyer's puppet-arm promptly dove under the coffee table, dragging the rest of her along. After a moment, Kyer crawled out. "Sorry, Morgaine. Mr. Spitz seems to have claimed it, and he REALLY doesn't want anyone else to touch it. He's never acted like this before." Lisa leaned over and spoke softly to Margie. "I'm worried. Kyer's not joking around - she's shy around people she doesn't know that well. She wouldn't have yanked away from J.L. like that. I bet it has something to do with that thingy...Mr. Spitz is acting really weird." Margie nodded thoughtfully. She thought Mr. Spitz's behavior was odd also, and a bit disturbing. She was re- reading 'The Lord of the Rings' for the fifth time, and this reminded her of...but no, she shook her head. That was a different fantasy from this one, she reminded herself. Still, if Mr. Spitz started talking to that thing, and calling it 'My Precious', Margie was *really* going to be worried. As if reading her mind, Morgaine broke the sudden silence. "Kyer, do you think it would upset 'Gollum' here if J.L. used those computer thingies to try and find out about this thing?" Kyer conferred with Mr. Spitz before she answered. "Nope, long as you don't try and take it." J.L. nodded and headed for the basement. Margie and Lisa returned to the kitchen, and Kyer spoke to Mr. Spitz in a hushed tone before following J.L. Anjali smiled at Morgaine. "You'd better not try that snatching game with Mr. Spitz. That garlic stuff must really hurt." Morgaine gestured to her glasses. "Least I got goggles. So, you think that thingy really has something to do with the why we're all here?" "I think it's pretty likely. Like you said, someone must have left it for us on purpose. I wonder what we have to do with it?" Morgaine smiled weakly. "Do you know of any fiery mountains in Toronto?" THE END...FOR NOW... (Note: 'Star Trek' and 'The Lord of the Rings' are the products of two great minds - Gene Roddenberry and J.R.R. Tolkien - both of whom Morgaine considers to be right up there with the Parriott. No infringement intended.) From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IjBf-0007Ge-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:46:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1284; Sun, 22 Aug 99 21:44:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1946; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:44:07 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 20:45:59 -0500 Reply-To: treeleaf@IO.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Margie Hammet Subject: WAR: Chocolate Fudge Heals All Wounds (1 of 1) Sunday afternoon and evening To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b29b086d62ff04077c8b8b0c4ee59b37 War: Chocolate Fudge Heals All Wounds (1 of 1) Written by: Margie Hammet Time: Sunday afternoon and evening, Aug. 22 Before "The Disappearance of Mr. Spitz" "I got the forms for the Nunkies cookies." said Lisa, coming into the living room of the Comfy Cottage. "We've got the chocolate fudge and everything. Morgaine, do you want to get started baking them with me?" "Sure." The teenager jumped up. "By the way, I found out something, from my Cousinly connections," said Lisa. It turns out the Nunkies Addicts and the Vaqueros traded headquarters for a while. The NA's weren't there the day Morgaine and Anjali went to the Jewelled Peach. "Then they didn't see the holograms," said Margie. "That's a relief." "The Vaqueros might have mentioned it to the NA's, though," pointed out Lisa. "They wouldn't have any reason not to." "True," said Margie. "We better send the cookies, just in case. It's a nice gesture, anyway." "We should put some sort of a note in with them, so the NA's will know who they're from," said Lisa. "I'll write something up," Margie said. For the next few hours, the delicious smell of chocolate fudge permeated the Comfy Cottage, while Morgaine and Lisa baked cookies in the shape of LaCroix. There were cookies all over the kitchen counter, and the last batch was in the oven, when Margie came in. "Here's the note,"she said. She laid it down on the counter. "How's that?" she asked Lisa. The note read: Dear Nunkies Addicts, Please accept this gift from us as a peace offering, not that we've done anything that would require a peace offering! But just in case you happen to hear something from somebody about some incident which might have happened, but which, in reality, _never_ actually happened. Your friends, The Cousins of the Knight "Well...," Lisa said, dubiously. "Good." Margie gave the note a little tap of satisfaction. The timer buzzed on the oven. "Do you want me to get that batch out?" Margie asked. "Sure. Thanks, Margie," said Morgaine. "I'll go find a box for the cookies," Lisa said. She left the kitchen. Margie took the tray of cookies out of the oven. "Morgaine, I thought you said you were modest," Margie said, blushing when she saw the cookies. "I am," said Morgaine. "But sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do," she added, blushing also. "They're for the Nunkies Addicts, and Lisa said this would be the best thing." "I guess so," said Margie, as she put the tray of anatomically correct Nunkies cookies on a cooling rack. Lisa was a Nunkies Addict, as well as being a Cousin of the Knight, so she would know about that sort of thing. "It'll take that last batch a few minutes to cool, and then Lisa's going to pack them all up so you and she can take them to the NA's," said Morgaine. "Do you want to go watch videos until they're all ready to go? "Okay." Morgaine and Margie headed for the movie room. About ten minutes later, Kyer came into the kitchen to make a banana- chili tortilla wrap. She took one look at the cookies and screamed. "AHHH! NEKKID SAVAGES!" she yelled. Muttering about the depravity of certain war participants, Kyer found some small dessert napkins. She put one on each of the cookies, covering each cookie from its neck to below its knees. "That's better," she said. She made her tortilla wrap and took it up to her room, glad that decency had been restored. Lisa came into the kitchen, carrying a box for the cookies. "Oh, look," she said to herself. "Somebody put togas on them. What a good idea." She set the box down, picked up one of the cookies, and removed the napkin toga. "This is fun," she said, chewing happily. When she was through, she lined the box with waxed paper, packed up all the Nunkies cookies, along with their togas, and lightly folded the waxed paper over them. She put the note in on top and closed the box. Lisa and Margie drove over to the NA headquarters. Margie knocked on the door. Bons, the NA scribe, answered it. "Hi. What's that?" Bons asked, looking at the box Lisa was holding. Margie said, "It's a bri..." "A gift!" interrupted Lisa loudly, poking Margie in the ribs. "It's a gift from our faction to your faction." "Right," said Margie. "A gift." "Thanks," Bons said, taking the box. On the way back to the Comfy Cottage, Margie asked, "Do you think they'll realize we're sincere about the gift? They won't think it's a trap, will they? "We can only hope," said Lisa. From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:42 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IjYM-0000Hm-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 22:09:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3540; Sun, 22 Aug 99 22:07:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3047; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 22:07:30 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 19:09:24 PDT Reply-To: Lisa Harvey Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Harvey Subject: War: CotK: The Disappearance of Mr. Spitz (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9bf2a9156928e6cc1f59c8cb5c51fbbd War: The Disappearance of Mr. Spitz (01/01) Written by: Lisa Harvey and Anjali Wierny, with input from Margie Hammet Location: The Comfy Cottage Time/Date: Sunday evening, August 22, sometime after "Chocolate Fudge Heals All Wounds" Lisa looked longingly at the toga one last time before placing it back in her closet. She was going to the Conversion Day party at the NA Shrine on Monday, and she really wanted her faction mates to go with her. After going to the Vaq party and dedicating that Addict song to Kyer, she was slightly concerned about what Kyer might do. Ugh, why did she have those tequila drinks? They'd gone straight to her head. She'd needed a way to ensure that Kyer would behave herself at this particular social function. From the moment the Schitzoid Knightie had heard about Conversion Day and what it was, she'd been working on poems and filks in Lacroix's 'honor'. The displaced Addict was not amused. It was one thing to sing them around the Cottage, but if Lacroix were to hear one of these... Lisa didn't think there was enough grout in the world for all the Grout Duty she'd be assigned. Fortunately, she was sure she'd found the perfect bargaining tool. Earlier that day, she'd snuck into Kyer's room, taken Mr. Spitz, and hidden him where no one would think to look for him. She headed downstairs and found the group in the movie room, where they were trying to decide what to watch. Morgaine looked up and exclaimed, "Lee, where were you? We've been calling!" Kyer teased, "She was probably drooling over her toga again." Lisa arched her brow in her best imitation of Lacroix, and Kyer looked up at the ceiling, feigning innocence. "Would anyone like to go to the Conversion Day party with me?" There was a chorus of 'sure' and 'why not', and Kyer got a manical gleam in her eye. Clearly, Lisa thought to herself, she was going to have to work on her Stern Looks. Kyer jumped to her feet. "I have the perfect song for ole General Pain! Just let me go and get Mr. Spitz..." She bounded from the room in excitement. "You're looking awfully smug," J.L. remarked as Lisa sat down on the couch. "You'll see," she replied cryptically. About a minute later, there was a scream from the second floor. And about thirty seconds after that, Kyer reappeared in the room. "Mr. Spitz is *gone*! Someone's kidnapped him! The Cousins must still be mad at me for the whole radio broadcast thingie. I will have revenge! I wonder which..." Grinning evilly, Lisa gave a small wave to get Kyer's attention. "That would be me." "How could you?!" Kyer sputtered indignantly. "First, that *ABBA* song, and now this!" "I think of it as insurance." "Insurance?" Kyer asked blankly. "Look, I've been good all War. I haven't teased you guys, used the word 'brick' or anything. And believe me, as the only Cousin in a house full of Knighties, it was really tempting. I didn't even freak out when Morgaine and Anjali put those hologram thingies in the Jewelled Peach. I knew it was a show of family support. All I want is one thing -- I don't want you to do anything weird in front of Lacroix at the Conversion Day festivities tomorrow, and this was the best way to do it." She continued before Kyer could say anything, "And don't worry about Mr. Spitz. He's safely tucked away, with my favorite teddy bear for company. As soon as we get back from the party, I'll give him back to you." "Which teddy bear?" Kyer asked suspiciously. "Pooky." Lisa looked pained to admit it. Kyer visibly relaxed. If Lisa had left her favorite teddy bear with Mr. Spitz, then it was safe. Lisa was as protective of her bears as the Knightie was with Mr. Spitz. She didn't talk to them though, and Kyer thought that odd. "Okay, I'll go, but I'm *not* wearing a toga!" Lisa smirked. "Didn't think so. It's no biggie; you can just wear one of your South Amercian outfits, and people will think it's a costume." Anjali started fiddling with her fingers nervously at the mention of her little escapade with Morgaine. Just thinking about being in the same building as LaCroix after making that hologram was enough to put her into a state of panic. She stared into the fireplace, eyes wide. "Are you all right, Anjali?" Lisa asked, waking her up from her unpleasant daydream. "You don't have to wear a toga either if you don't want to. I'm sure we could find something..." Anjali shook her head and grinned nervously, "I'm fine thanks - the toga's cool." She just hoped LaCroix and the members of Nunkies Anomynous had *really* appreciated the tasty baked gift Lisa and Morgaine had made them. ~end~ Lisa lmharvey@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ijr2-0001Ks-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 22:29:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5044; Sun, 22 Aug 99 22:26:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4777; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 22:26:52 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 19:31:31 -0700 Reply-To: Teresita Tazon Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Teresita Tazon Organization: Forever Knight-Vaquera w/ T&V tendencies Subject: WAR: VAQS Disclaimer Addendum for Vachon Turns the Tables To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9ed5293089e84b31c20a8b3a0e2da72a WAR: VAQS, To all War 10 participants Please accept my apologies. I managed to post my story "Vachon Turns the Tables" without its proper disclaimers. The information below should have gone with it originally. Please add this to the post of "Vachon Turns the Tables" by Teresita ******************************************************* WAR: VAQS Vachon Turns the Tables Karaoke at The Pitted Peach Party started on Saturday Aug. 21, 1999 Time: towards the end The MIDI file for Wild Things is publicly available. Tech Mav Vaquero, Scott Greer, has made this available at: Karaoke at the Pitted Peach; a Vaq Jukebox http://www.computeralliesinc.com/karaoke.html Further disclaimers are at the end of the story. Vachon Turns the Tables By Teresita, a Troublesome "T", Vaq Scribe #1 -fin- Wild Thing is/was the property of The Troggs and was written by Chip Taylor. No infringement is intended. The lyrics were from the Lyrics World webpages. The filk "Into The 10th" is by Echo Blackthorn and is used with permission. It is based on a song from the Scarlet Pimpernel. I used the last half of the filk here. ******************************************************* Again let me say how very sorry I am for the inconvenience. Teresita "Mi alma es Vaquera"="My soul is Vaquera" ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IkRn-0002Sx-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:06:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5403; Sun, 22 Aug 99 23:04:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8947; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:04:47 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:01:02 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Tarred of Just Waiting Around 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f505ce657c6ff6150645c5994d6e3c90 NA: Tarred of Just Waiting Around 01/01 by Patt Elmore When: Sunday night; early Monday Morning, August 23, 1999 Where: Roof of the NA Shrine Participants used with their permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After hearing the horror stories regarding what the Vaqs had done to the NA Shrine, Patt was almost afraid to return to her home. Actually, it wasn't so bad. A little leather here, some grease there--nothing that a bit of scrubbing wouldn't take care of. "'Bout time you got back," Kriel growled when Patt went upstairs to inspect the third floor addition. "I have a stack of work orders which need your signature, and those leather chicks were useless." "I understand completely," Patt said, filching a pen from Kriel's pocket. "Where do I sign?" "You're not going to read them all?" Kriel cocked an eyebrow in question as Patt began to write and hum. "Nope," Patt smiled. "I'm very pleased with what I've seen so far and have the utmost confidence in you." Patt looked up at Kriel and clicked the ball point shut. "And, besides, if this isn't up to code, you'll have to deal with LaCroix." The Third Cousin gave the foreman a brilliant smile. "You're feeling pretty sassy, aren't you?" Kriel grinned darkly at the woman. "I like that. Too bad I'm already *involved* elsewhere. That Christy chick did come back, too, didn't she?" "Yes, she did," Patt replied, patting Kriel's arm. "And, you two will make a perfect couple. Just watch your wallet, okay?" Still humming, Patt began walking away. "We're just about finished . . . should be tarring the roof next," Kriel hollered after her. "That's nice." Patt kept walking, humming. "Should be able to do it tomorrow . . . Monday," Kriel said, looking down at his notes. Patt stopped, no longer humming. The Third Cousin did a stiff pirouette and marched back to the ex-vampire construction worker. "Tomorrow? Did you say, 'tomorrow'?" Patt demanded. Kriel held up a work order, bearing Patt's signature, authorizing the roof tarring for Monday evening. "You can't do that tomorrow," Patt pointed out. "That's when we start our Conversion Day celebration, and we don't want the whole place to smell like yucky old tar. That stuff stinks." "Sorry, but I have my timetable and my signed order." Kriel shook the paper in Patt's face for emphasis. "Tar on Monday night it is." Patt tried to snatch the paper, but Kriel just held it higher. Fred raced onto the scene and began yapping at the foreman. "Take your little dog and get off my work site," Kriel ordered, motioning for Sapo to join them. "Show the lady and her *breakfast* to the stairs, Sap." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In the wee hours of Monday morning, several addicts, dressed in coveralls, made their way to the roof. "Explain to me once again why we're up on the roof," Caren grumbled as she picked her way through the construction debris and buckets of roofing compound. "We've got to finish the roofing before the C-Day festivities," Patt explained. "If we can just get the tar spread while everyone is off premises at the 5K run, some of the smell may be gone before we head inside the Peach for eats and the party." "I see," Caren said thoughtfully. "But, I still don't see why *we* are up here, rather than the workers hired to do this sort of thing." "Because, they weren't planning to do it until tonight, while the festivities were in full swing," Patt said. "Think of how smelly that would have been." "Worse than that Peach odor at the Harem," Supaige offered. "Right!" Patt nodded. "This is for the cause, ladies. Get to slopping tar." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the end 01/01 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IkSd-0001Oj-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:07:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4070; Sun, 22 Aug 99 23:04:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8935; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:04:46 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 22:04:25 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR:FoD: We're doing what? Or the FoD's go to the Karoke party 1/2 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 56051e8b639fbcea27fc9ced1a3d2393 WAR: FoD: We're doing *what*? Or the FoD's go to the Karoke party 1/2 Place: The Pitted Peach Time: during the Vaq's Karoke party 8/21 early evening Cheryl N&Npacker used with permisson,all FoD's used with permisson Just after the party started Cindy Brewer stepped into The Pitted Peach and scanned the crowd. Spotting what she was looking for at a back table Cindy quickly manuvered through the crowd and sat down. "Hi Cheryl,how are you?"Cindy asked. The N&Npacker smiled,"Great,how are you? Where's the rest of the FoD's?" Cindy grinned,"They'll be here shortly. I left them a special surprise at the Deli that they had to pick up first." Cheryl raised an eyebrow,"You guys going to sing?" Cindy nodded,"Yep and so are you."She replied as she handed her friend one of the two garmet bags she was holding. ************************************************ At the mooselodge all the FoD's piled into the van and stared at the dashboard clock. "We're already late."Lori pointed out,"We'll never get to the Deli and over to the Pitted Peach in time." "Cindy said she left something for us at the Deli that we had to have for the party."Rav replied as she bounced slightly in her seat. Kathy took the keys from Spiff and switched places with her,"Relax,guys. I'll drive we'll make it with plenty of time to spare." "That's what I'm afraid of."Bev muttered under her breath as Kathy started the engine. ************************************* Deciding it wasn't necassary for all of them to go into the Deli and get the mystery item Rav,Ron and Spiff were elected for the duty. Since the Deli was closed due to the party Spiff quickly unlocked the door. As soon as Rav switched on the lights a strange mechincal somewhat musical voice greeted them. It took the FoD's a moment to spot the three Furby's perched on the counter next to several garmet bags. The trio blinked almost Vaquera like as the Furby's started to sing: 'Chim chiminey,chim chiminey chim chim cheree When you're with a sweep you're in glad company No where is there a more 'appier crew Than them wot sings Chim chim cheree chim cheroo' "Furby's singing Mary Poppins ."Spiff muttered with a shake of her head,"I'm defintely going to have nightmares about this war." "This looks like a Cousin trick."Ron commented as the group warily approached the musical Furby's "It can't be."Rav replied,"Cindy said there was something at the deli for us so this has to be it." "They each have our names on it."Spiff exclaimed as she started sorting the garmet bags. Each plastic bag was stapled shut and clearly marked with a note warning not to open untill they reached the Pitted Peach. "I have a bad feeling about this."Ron commented as she took her bag from Spiff. Spiff only grinned as she gathered the rest of the bags and tossed the keys to the deli to Rav,"Let's go. We'll find out what they are soon enough." From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IkSe-0001Oj-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:07:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4074; Sun, 22 Aug 99 23:04:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8963; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:04:49 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 22:05:25 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: FoD: We're doing what? Or the FoD's go to the Karoke Party 2/2 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fd745924d7ccdcb79283ffffcf0025e5 WAR: FoD: We're doing *what*? Or the FoD's go to the Karoke party 2/2 Place: The Pitted Peach Time: during the Vaq's Karoke party 8/21 early evening Cheryl N&Npacker used with permisson,all FoD's used with permisson The FoD's arrived at the Pitted Peach and quickly found the woman's rest room. Which thankfully was deserted. The garmet bags were hung on the back of the stall doors with an FoD warily standing in front of them. "They can't be that bad,guys."Kathy commented as she reached for the zipper on her bag. The notes on the bags had said no peeking but they hadn't said anything about other forms of examination. During the trip to the Pitted Peach they had discovered the contents were jackets of some kind. "Oh my God."Leah said softly as she took her jacket off the hanger,"I had no idea they could do this to leather." Every single one of the jackets was solid plaid. Different colors but all plaid. On the back in the center of the jacket was a strip of black leather and proudly written in bright orange lettering was: The FoD's. The group slowly came out of their shock and started talking at once: "Does she hate us?" "How could she do this?" "We really have to wear these? On stage?" "Where on earth did she find these?" "I think Cindy's seen Grease one too many times." "I think they're cute." All heads swiveled to look at Rav in astonishment. The brown haired girl smiled,"Well I do." "Karoke or not,"Leah replied as she headed toward the door,"Its still a party and we're wasting precioius party time standing here." ************************************************ Once in the bar it wasn't hard to spot Cindy as she too had on a FoD jacket. Cindy stood next to the table,"There you guys are,I was begining to worry. We're on next." "Ummm....Cin,"Ron asked from the back of the group,"Just wear did you get these....umm....jackets?" Cindy grinned at their reaction she made a mental note to get a group picture taken after the party,"A website in scotland." "Figures."Bev muttered under her breath. "They weren't exactly what I had in mind when I ordered them but they'll do for tonight."Cindy replied as she gestured to the woman seated at the table,"This is Cheryl from the N&Npack she'll be singing with us if that's okay?" Kathy nodded as she stepped forward to shake Cheryl's hand,"Misery loves company. The more the merrier. Nice to meet you." "Nice to meet all of you."Cheryl replied as she stood and the others noticed that she too had a plaid jacket. Bev looked at all the jackets and shook her head,"Cindy,dare I ask what song are we going to sing?" Cindy grinned,"Leader of the Pack." "I need a drink first."Someone muttered just as Rae took the stage. "Next up is the FoD's."Rae announced gesturing them forward. ****************************************** Just as the FoD's took the stage Schanke slipped into the bar and leaned against the back wall out of sight from the stage. With the festivities next week he had been stuck with a doubleshift tonight so he hadn't wanted to get the FoD's hopes up that he would be here. But in the end Schanke knew there was no way he could miss this. He just wished he had a video camera. ********************************************* The FoD's and N&Npacker paired up each taking a verse. Once the familiar music started most of the group lost their stage fright. 'Is she really going out with him? Well,there she is. Let's ask her. Betty,is that Jimmy's ring you're wearing? Mm-hmmm Gee,it must be great riding with him. Is he picking you up after school today? Uh-uh By the way where'd you meet him?' Lori and Ron were next up,'I met him at the candy store He turned around and smiled at me You get the picture? (yes we see) That's when I fell for (the leader of the pack) My folks were always putting him down (down,down) They said he came from the wrong side of town (Whatcha mean when you say he came from the wrong side of town?) They told me he was bad But I knew he was sad That's why I fell for (the leader of the pack) One day my dad said,"Find someone new." I had to tell my Jimmy we're through (Whatcha mean when ya say that ya better go find somebody new?) He stood there and asked me why But all I could do was cry I'm sorry I hurt you (the leader of the pack) He sort of smiled and kissed me goodbye The tears were begining to show As he drove away on that rainy night I begged him to go slow But whether he heard, I'll never know Look out! Look out! Look out! I felt so helpless, what could I do? Remembering all the things we'd been through In school they all stopped and stared I can't hide the tears,but I don't care I'll never forget him (the leader of the pack) The leader of the pack--now he's gone The leader of the pack--now he's gone The leader of the pack--now he's gone The leader of the pack--now he's gone.' The group took a bow and quickly left the stage among applause. As the group filed toward the tables reality started to sink in for Cindy. She grabbed Kathy's arm pulling her back. "Did I really just do that?"Cindy whispered hoarsely the color starting to drain from her face. Kathy laughed,"Yes you did." "In front of people?"Cindy asked shakily. "Yep." Cindy placed a hand to her forehead as she walked past her friend,"I need a stiff drink, several of them." End. From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Iks6-0003TQ-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:34:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5503; Sun, 22 Aug 99 23:31:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0250; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:31:46 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:31:19 -0700 Reply-To: E McCann Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: E McCann Subject: WAR: DP: Indiana Burp To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 16cc7d7dcf59067b9dc8295d6d2db9a6 Indiana Burp Time: Friday evening, after "Just a Nother afternoon 2/2" Place - DP mansion Burp popped back into the mansion as the rat he was "banished" to left the Mansion's grounds. He chittered angrily to nobody in particular. First to be ignored, then stuck on a shelf, and now to be stuck in a *rat!* How dare they! He picked up his black cape and the shiny trinket that it had covered when they had dropped off of him when he'd been exorcised, and strode off angrily. After a nap, he'd get his revenge. ===== Caeryn stretched as she came out of her room. She opened her door just as a three inch tall figure with a black cape went striding past. "What the... " she thought as she stared... wait, it's Burp. She ducked back into the room. Burp hadn't seemed to notice, he just kept walking towards Rose's room. "Could he have kept it..." she thought. Parking herself by her door, she decided to wait a few minutes, then investigate. ==== Burp crawled into his little reserved area by Rose's bed. He looked around - none of the other demons or the dPs had made off with any of his things. Once he was satisfied, he curled up between one of Rose's scrunchies and the blue container, and fell into a contented sleep. ==== Caeryn stopped at the door. The DP's were pretty much honorbound not to invade each others' rooms, but she had to get that blue stuff back before it caused who-knows-what kind of damage. With a sigh and a promise to explain why she had to do this to Rose, she snuck inside. Looking around, she didn't see much out of place. "Now where would he hide..." Her eyes were drawn to the little box in the corner. Rose had made Burp a special place to stay in. It *had* to be in there! Quietly walking over, she looked in. Sure enough, there was Burp, and next to him the blue powder. "Gotcha." She was about to reach in and get it when something else caught her eye. "Ahhh, so *there's* where that thing went." She picked up the piece of the cube, and the blue powder, and started making her way out. Burp hopped up on the bed. Someone had taken his prizes! And she's escaping! He chittered angrily at Caeryn. "Sorry, Burp, we don't know what this stuff is and we can't have you doing who-knows-what with it until we do." Burp chittered at her some more. He would get his things back! This would definately be an adventure, though. He had to prepare. He looked around for the appropriate supplies - yes, there. He grabbed a shoelace, and a fedora from the head of one of the figures in the room. Out from the room, ready for action, came Indiana Burp, adventurer extrordinaire. He climbed up to the railing as he saw Caeryn descending the stairs. He watched closely as she stuck the blue jar in the closet, mentioning something about finding Cat, and walked off. He smiled. This would be easy. Burp slid down the bannister and opened up the door, which hadn't been shut completely. Hopping onto the hem of a trenchcoat, he started shimmying up to the top shelf. He stood on the coat shoulder, trying to find a way to get up to the shelf itself. He looked around, and noticed a bag tipped towards the front of the closet - next to the blue jar. Could it really be this easy? He used the shoelace as a rope, "whipping" it around the handle and starting to climb. The only problem with this was that this bag contained a bowling ball, and was not closed. Burp pulled - And the ball rolled free of its enclosure. Burp looked up and chittered something, then slid down the coat and started to run. The bowling ball hit the floor and started rolling after him. Burp had seen the DPs watching a movie with a similar situation in it last night. He knew if he kept running he could escape. However, he didn't take into account that the actor was not a demon with stubby legs running from a bowling ball. A few of the DP's walked in just in time to see the conclusion. Burp turned as something shook the floor beneath his stubby feet, and chittered something the DP's swore had to be demon cussing. *SQUISH* The Dp's laughed as the (much thinner) demon oozed his way between the floorboards. "Oh, great, Tracy's bowling ball has demon goo on it. Who's turn is it to clean it?" Caeryn looked around. "Who's newest?" She shook her head. "Don't worry about that right now. Let's get that blue stuff back to the lab." She grabbed it and the piece of the cube, and the three DP's went on their way. From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IksM-0003UA-00; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:34:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5506; Sun, 22 Aug 99 23:32:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0278; Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:32:16 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 23:34:17 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: Faer Afield (WAS: Crossing Delancy) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c7aa888df8b1f0a3cfe61d1e8f925111 Sorry for the delay in getting this part out: I had a bit of a problem having written myself into a corner. I had to tear out half of what I'd done and start over again. The answer turned out to be more interesting than I could have ever considered... *************** WAR: Independent/CGW: Faer Afield by Brenda Bell Follows: Experience is a Terrible Thing to Waste TIME: Wednesday afternoon to some time Thursday, probably Thursday evening. Sukh, Heather, Pen, Chris, and Brenda are real and are used by permission. Miguel, Consuela, and all the other Fiendish Glow staff and irregulars belong to the Fiendish Glow. Father Andrew belongs to the Faer Hibernian Foundation and doesn't hang out at the Glow nearly as often as his regular seat would have one believe. Liam O'Neal ("Bad Blood") used because he's antagonized the staff one too many times in War 9 and appears with the permission of FKWarlock. ***Notes to those who didn't participate in War 9: Many of "the boys" around the Fiendish Glow have grown up around "the Troubles" in Ireland and Northern Ireland. A few have caused some of those Troubles; many have had Trouble-some family members -- in short, if they're not experienced in some of this underground stuff, they grew up around it and learned it from their da's. In addition to his vampire-hunting hobby, Liam O'Neal has been hunting the boys for the past twenty-five years or so. As far as we know, none of them are actually terrorists or are guilty of any crime -- most of them were barely out of diapers at the time some of these alleged events occurred. The children just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time -- but O'Neal thinks they're just as guilty as the adults were. ***************** The Fiendish Glow, Wednesday afternoon, 18 August, 1500 Eastern Daylight Time After a few false starts (such as Heather's goopy oatcakes and Pen's exploding cornbread) and several distress calls to Brenda's dad, the Glow Worms had managed to get through Monday's dinner without scaring off offending too many customers or causing the kitchen support staff to run off in a huff and quit (free dinners being very useful apologies to regular customers and all). Tuesday -- despite their being dead tired -- was an improvement. By Wednesday, Sukh and MacHeather had decided that they would be most helpful *in* the kitchen by staying *out of* the kitchen, and took off for NA headquarters shortly after brunch. Pen, Brenda, and Chris began preparations for the dinner crowd, anxiously awaiting the return of the two regular cooks and as normal a life as can be expected the week before a wedding, during War time. This was not to be, however. *Ring* *ring* *ring* *Ring* *ring* *ring* "Fiendish Glow. Ye stake 'em, we'll bake 'em," Chris answered, despite the women's frowns. "Wha'?" he asked into the receiver. "Excuse me?" He held the phone away from his ear and motioned to Pen, who took the receiver from him. Seconds later, a stream of invective in Irish and Spanish flew from the willowy woman's lips while she motioned for a stiff drink with the other. By the time Chris and Brenda returned with the Cuervo Gold and a glass, Pen had hung up the receiver and sat down at one of the prep tables. "They've been delayed at the airfield," she said. "Something about our 'friend' from the 'Irish Culinary Heritage Preservation Bureau' and Immigration." "I thought that was a pretty *private* air strip. How the hell did O'Neal wind up *there*?" Brenda asked. "Delivering goods, following someone coming in or out, checking filed flight plans..." Brenda nodded. It was possible -- but things seemed quite... *controlled*... during her flights in and out of there. "So what do we do now?" "Give it time, babe, give it time. And continue with tonight's cooking. I've got a phone call to make..." *********** Meanwhile, just above the fallow field of a farm far enough from the city to fall into free airspace... "Flaps down, landing gear deployed. Starting final descent glide path. Altitude is ten hundred... " Miguel and Consuela searched for the buckles for their seat belts. "...nine hundred... eight hundred... " Two clicks were heard as the belts adjusted into place. "...seven hundred... six hundred... " A barn-like building came into view off the right of the plane. Unbeknownst to most of the world, the "barn" in question was outfitted for aircraft maintenance and storage. "...five hundred... " An old, beat-up, graffiti'd once-white van chugged down the private road to the ersatz airfield. "...four hundred... three hundred... " A row of flattened plants, leading into a circle of similarly flattened plants, became a potential runway. The Beechcraft approached the ray end of the crop circle. "...two hundred... " The pilot's hand extended towards the controls and started pushing, pulling, and clicking various dials, knobs, and switches. "...one hundred... prepare for landing... " The plane landed unexpectedly smoothly for the apparent roughness of the terrain. Within seconds, the van drove up to its side. "Thank ye, Donal," O'Malley waved to the pilot as he unbelted from the co-pilot's seat, exited the craft, and extended a hand to assist the woman in the passenger area. "No problem, Padraig. Ennatuyme uy get the chence to fluy the Buyeechcraeaft..." he said, crossing aft and moving assorted pieces of "personal luggage" forward. At the same time, both driver and passenger stepped out of the cargo van, guns drawn. "Uy got you did to rights, noa, O'Malley," the older, balding man said, as the two men moved towards the cooks. "You again! What the divvil piece o' tomfoolery d'you think you've got me on, noa?" O'Malley asked. "Same as always, O'Malley. Gun running, evading arrest, acts of international terrorism..." O'Malley shook his head, chuckling. "Y'been drinkin' *wood* alcohol from that flask o' yers, Inspector Vampuyre? E'en if we *were* with th'Aermy, as you *insist* on believin', didna you hair thuyre's a truce? Didna you understand there's been eno' killin'?" "You think you're canny, O'Malley?" the Dubliner taunted. "Well, Uy have news for you - you're goaing doan, an' Uym throwin' uwuy the key." "Then you're goain' to have to fuynd a locksmith to get you oat o' there..." While the men on the ground were parrying jibes, the plane-bound pilot retrieved a cellular telephone and made a pair of calls. In seconds, a small man in a white suit appeared before the tableau, apparently having magically sprung forth from the ground. "Well, well, well. If't isn't muy auld *friend* Liam O'Neal," the man said, sneaking up on the inspector. The Dubliner hid a shiver as he turned, gun still drawn on O'Malley, to meet this new threat. The familiar face was one he'd never expected to see again, its familiar voice one expected never to hear again. "What're ye trayin' this tayme, sohn?" "Thuy've escaped th' law for fair too long -- aen Uy'm goan t'see thae justice is sairved." "Justice?" White Suit chuckled. "You, who'd kill a man of G-d and call it 'justice'? You, Liam Daniel Padraig Connor O'Neal, who was baptized at St. Brendan's, graduated from St. Padraig's, and resided with th' brothers o' the Sacrament o' St. Brigid... I expected better from you." "F-f-father Andrew?" Liam asked, not believing his senses. "The verry seyme priest that you tried t' kill foarty years ago." The inspector looked at the former clergyman up and down, twice, as he soaked in the afternoon sun. "But you're -- you were, a... a... " "Say it, my son," Father Andrew taunted. "A vampuyre," he blurted out. An vampuyres-- " "--aere evil creatures o' the devil," the priest completed. "I know what happened t' yoar mother, lad -- an' wha' happened t'you. Have you ehvur bothered t'ask *why* I became a vampyre, Liam Daniel Padraig Connor O'Neal?" he paused for effect. "'Twas the night o' the century storm at St. Padraig's, an' I was boand t' see Mrs. McNulty, who was tayken with th' grippe. As I approached hur house, I haird an infernal noise -- like the bean sidhe's wail. Right in the doorway she stood, screaming, as one of those creatures of the night set teeth to her neck. I knew him then for a demon-creature... "When I became a priest, I took vows to protect the souls o' my parishoners. Rather than let the demon take Mrs. McNulty's soul, I offered him my oan in return, if only he'd leave her alone. "The demon, as you can guess, was a vampyre -- and rather than just take my layfe, he gave me his oan life -- forced me back acroass the divide, and then parted. An' there was no Father Hurley there for me, lad," Father Andrew related. "An poor Mrs. McNulty..." he crossed himself. Liam and the boyos followed suit. "She was my first -- and my last. When I realized what I'd done, I wished to go straight to Bishop Ahearn for confession and advice -- but the sun had already risen, and I was trapped inside her cot. The next evening, you met me at her door an' tried to kill me... when you left me for dead, I knew I had to leave Ireland. Bishop Ahearn put me in touch with the Faer Hibernian Foundation. They gave me passage and refuge, and a life of seclusion where the Mrs. McNultys of the world are free from my... gluttony. "The boyos you would want to arrest also came here seeking refuge. The Foundation has been helping the Irish make new, peaceful, productive lives for themselves for over one hundred an' fifty years. If you interfere with that noa, that would be a much bigger sin than tryin' to kill a parish priest... or a vampire." O'Neal's head spun with his former priest's story. Was there, could there be, a vampire who was not evil, who believed in G-d, and who was strong enough to lead a righteous... Unlife? Or was he, like all vampires, a perfect, perpetual liar, just telling another story to be able to survive and hunt another day? And what was the *vampire* Father Andrew doing out in the late afternoon sun? Slowly, O'Neal brought the gun down from its target, clicked on the safety, and holstered it -- using his other hand to massage his forehead the whole time. *What* was going on??? Gently, Liam's driver and O'Malley supported the inspector as he all but collapsed. "Come, let me get you something to drink while the boyos load up the van. Still Lager and lime, right?" Father Andrew asked, gently guiding the confused Hunter to the entrance to his subterranean abode. ********************** Back at the Fiendish Glow: Standing right next to the giant cans of crushed tomatoes and not far from the bottled juices, a two-gallon jar stood, filled with an evil-looking condensing gray-brown suspension. Brenda looked suspiciously at it. "What is this?" she asked, removing its cover and taking a whiff of the contents. "PHE-EWW!" She closed it back up again. "Pen? Chris? Does either of you know what this jar is doing here?" "Looks like Heather's tryin' to make 'oatmeal water' agin," Chris said. "Atholl Brose," he explained to the confused others. "It smells like rubbing alcohol and spoiled milk," Brenda said. "She's nae much of a cook," Chris admitted. "Let me check." Brenda held Pen well back of the jar while Chris opened the lid again, sniffing the contents. He covered the jar again and removed it from the shelf. "I doan know wha' the lass put *in* there, bu' tha's nae Atholl Brose. I'll dispose o' it far ye lassies," he said, carrying the heavy jar out to the dumpster and throwing it in. It landed with a satisfying *ding* and *crack*, the contents of the overpowerful alcoholic beverage seeping into the scraps and scrapings normally associated with a commercial eating establishment. Chris returned to the kitchen, never seeing the rash of four-legged creatures running towards the dumpster, entranced by the strong smell of ethanol-laced food. "I need a drink," Chris said, heading towards the bar and pouring himself three fingers of single-malt scotch. It was the first of many he'd drink while his Heather was dining with "Nunkumpoopies". ******************* Somewhere underneath the FHF airstrip "Sshoo you sshee, m'lad, there'ssh no' vampayrezzh in, enny, ennywheressh nearssh Toronto..." Father Andrew said. The bottle of rye in front of them was almost as empty as the half-dozen bottles of lager strewn around the simple inner chamber of the former priest's hermitage. "Firssht time in [hic] yearssh I'm enjoying this ssstuff," he smiled goofily. "But coam, let'ssh get you hoam..." He picked up the remnants of the bottle and led the Inspector back out to the van. "We'll pile in back wi' the cargo... Hoam, boyos!" he toasted as Miguel stepped on the gas. **************** Outside the Fiendish Glow, Wednesday 18 August, about 1900 Eastern Daylight Time A nondescript, once-white van pulled up to the employee's entrance of the Fiendish Glow. The cooks hop out the front and go inside in search of some hands and handtrucks. Unknown to them, the two sloshed Irishmen make their way out the cargo bay and into the main entrance of the Fiendish Glow. ***************** The Fiendish Glow pub, same time Each weaving more unsteadily than the other, Father Andrew led Inspector O'Neal down to the subterranean pub and to his usual seat by the Metro entrance. "Pen! Siobhan! Deirdre!" he drunkenly yelled. "I'd like ye all t' meet an ol' friend o' mine!" The waitresses came over as soon as they'd taken their current customers' orders. Pen and Brenda exited the kitchen shortly after, wiping their hands on their aprons. Siobhan took out her order pad. "An Ulsterman's for you, Faether -- oh, that's right, you're on a different diet this week. You'll have?" "I brought me own," he said, raising the bottle, "but itssh almosht empty. Gimmeanothah rye." "You've had more'n enough to drink, Father Andrew," Siobhan said gently. "Never have enough to drink," he replied. "Then you'll have coffee," she told him. "And what'll you have to *eat*?" she asked. "I'll have the Sshepherd's Pie," he said, after some short deliberation. "And Liam'll have the colcannon." "I'll have the Irish sshtew," Liam contradicted. "One Shepherd's Pie and..." Siobhan looked at Liam, did a double-take, and froze. "You!" she said, looking squarely at O'Neal. "What are *you* doing here?" "Ye've already met Liam, I see," said Father Andrew. "An' ye're lucky you didn't meet up with him any other week o' the year, Faether." "Hush, child -- is that any way for a good Christian to behave?" "It is, if that person's been stalking you and your kin -- all honest, law-abiding citizens -- without a warrant, or if that person's been plotting genocide against a sizeable segment of your clientele," Brenda retaliated. "And *Inspector* O'Neal here has done both," she said, stomping off. "Brenda's 'NOT-Christian'," Pen explained. Father Andrew chuckled. "Well, then, thank the L-rd that we met up again *thissh* week," he said, toasting O'Neal with the remants of the rye. "Givessh ussh both a chance t' turn the other cheek." He turned to Pen and added, "Liam usshed t' be one o' my parisshiionerrs, before... I told him tryin' t' arressht the boyos wud be a bigger sin then tryin' t' kill vampiressh." "Was this before or after you started toasting your renewed acquaintence?" Pen asked, skeptically. "Before, lass, before... an' I esshplained that there are no vampirezzzh in Toronto noa, ssho he izzhn't goin' t' go huntin' ussh, either..." Pen rolled her eyes at the two drunkards just as Deirdre brought up two cups and a pot of black coffee. "Ye'll drink this, and you'll eat your dinner, and not make a scene about it," the head waitress told the two men. "And don't you *ever* pull a stunt like this again," Pen warned the priest. ***************** Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ild4-0005BF-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:22:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6172; Mon, 23 Aug 99 00:20:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8268; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:20:27 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:14:28 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: CUZ: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human!" (3/6) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8c9aa251b08f8864a48c03d31902607e "I USED TO BE A VAMPIRE, BUT NOW I'M JUST A PLAIN 'OL HUMAN!" (3/6) By: Cousin Lisa with input from Cousine Celeste When: Friday Morning, Aug. 20 What time: 10:00 a.m. Where: The studios of the Jerry Tate Show Characters: Same as in post 1 and too many to keep listing :) "Welcome to the Jerry Tate Show...Today's subject...'I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain ol' Human...Now, put your hands together for your host...JERRY TATE." The audience exploded with applause. Ravenette Caroline jumped to her feet, raised an arm over her head, began waving it in a circle and yelled, "Whomp, Whomp, Whomp." Fellow Ravenette Kimberly looked on in horror as the camera started to turn in their direction. "Sit down, Caroline," she hissed stridently, but Caroline was in her glory and just kept bouncing and 'whomping' and waving her arm about -- one might add, again, remarkably like a Natpacker. Realizing the futility of trying to get her friend to show some Janette- like restraint, Kim slumped into her chair in embarrassment and attempted to go unseen. She glanced over at Alexander to see how he was handling things. She needn't have worried. Alexander was barely hanging onto his chair. If he hadn't had on the sunglasses, Kim would have seen that his eyes were nearly rolled all the way back into his head. He just slouched there moaning, "Ear plugs, ear plugs, my life for a pair of ear plugs and a bloody Mary and an aspirin." ************* After Jerry entered the studio and greeted his audience with a big smile and a friendly wave, he said, "Now, it's time to meet our guests. Our first guest's name is Chimera. She's a former vampire and was originally mortal in Romania in the 17th century where she was a humble peasant girl. She was changed into a human recently and has been working at McDonald's for the free french fries. She's obviously having some trouble readjusting to being human. Put your hands together and show some support for... Chimera." Cousine Celeste gave Becky...errr...Chimera, a push in order to get her out on stage. Becky stumbled out onto the stage, having to grab her wig to keep it from flying off since Celeste has shoved her just a little too hard. The five-inch spike heels didn't help much either. As she began flipping the hair from the wig out of her face, she caught sight of herself in one of the camera monitors and screamed in horror, "THAT'S ME? Somebody go get me a wet nap! Quick!" April, one of the Unnamed Faction members in attendance, observed this, stood up, pointed at her and cried, "That's not a former vampire, that's a Cousin!" "Whose cousin," asked an average Toronto resident who was sitting nearby. "No," said April, "not cousin, Cousin." "Right, whose Cousin?" "The Cousin's Cousin! Uncle's niece!" Susan added helpfully. "Uncle who?" "Uncle *Uncle*," UFer Shelley explained. "What are you girls talking about?" "Oh, forget it," April said in frustration. "There are no Cousins, there are no Uncles." "*Excuse* me?" said Light Cousin Arletta disapprovingly. She and the other Light Cousins, along with Cousin Shelley were sitting across the aisle from the UFers. "Ladies, ladies," called Jerry, "why don't we meet our fellow panelists? Next we have Harvey. He was turned into a vampire in the 1960s. As a mortal he had been a television repair man. He enjoyed being a vampire because it helped him pick up babes, although he missed the beer. Let's put our hands together for...Harvey." As the guest emerged from the right side of the stage several audience members began to murmur among themselves. "Hey, isn't that the delivery guy?" Angela, the N&NPacker, asked her friends Tammy and Chana. "Yeah," Chana agreed, "I think you're right." Once Butch and Chimera were settled in the chairs, Jerry said, "And now, for a very special return guest, put your hands together for SCREED!" With that, the crowd of Vaqueras, Ravenettes, UFers, Light Cousins, Natpacker, Cousins and N&NPackers errupted into cheers and applause. Alexander sunk his head into his hands and prayed for the torture to end. "Anyone got a bag of some sort handy?" he moaned before passing out onto the floor. Between Alexander's slumping and Caroline's whomping, Kimberly was at her wit's end trying to remain Ravenly. "Something told me to stay in bed this morning," she mumbled to herself, "why didn't I listen?" ************************* TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 4 ************************* ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ildx-0005VI-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:23:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6181; Mon, 23 Aug 99 00:21:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8411; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:21:26 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:23:16 EDT Reply-To: Ccfrn1@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Forward Subject: WAR: CotK 8/19 & 8/22 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: dd9fc2cc459f122d9de47c34da95db53 Title: "The Llama Gets a Klew" (01/01) Setting: the CotK Comfy Cottage Time: Thursday night, immediately following "An Uneventful Evening...Or Was It?" Written by: Morgaine, with Margie and Kyer Morgaine and Lisa rush into the cottage to tell Margie and Anjali about the=20 discovery of the amulet on one of the space chickens. Mr. Spitz, the llama=20 puppet, has spit garlic juice in Kyer's eye when she asked if she could look=20 at it. As JL attempts to look at it, the llama, via Kyer's arm, jerks away=20 violently, and resists all attempts to get close to it. He eventually=20 "consents" to go down to the basement computer room with Kyer and JL to=20 examine it more closely. Margie's imagination, fueled by Lord of the Rings=20 overload, is in high gear. War: Chocolate Fudge Heals All Wounds (1 of 1) Written by: Margie Hammet Time: Sunday afternoon and evening, Aug. 22 Before "The Disappearance of Mr. Spitz" Lisa, Margie, and Morgaine decide to bake cookies to appease the NA for=20 putting Nunkies/Barney holograms on the tables of the Jeweled Peach, even=20 though, due to switching of HQ's, they were likelier to have been seen by=20 Vaqs. The anatomically correct Nunkies cookies are accompanied by a note=20 saying:=20 Please accept this gift from us as a peace offering, not that we've done anything that would require a peace offering! But just in case you happen to hear something from somebody about some incident which might have happened, but which, in reality, _never_ actually happened. When Lisa discovered the Nekked Nunkies, propriety took over, and she wrappe= d=20 each cookie in a dessert napkin, which actually imparted a nice toga effect.=20 They deliver the cookies to Bons at NA headquarters. War: The Disappearance of Mr. Spitz (01/01) =20 Written by: Lisa Harvey and Anjali Wierny, with input from Margie Hammet Location: The Comfy Cottage Time/Date: Sunday evening, August 22, sometime after "Chocolate Fudge Heals All Wounds" Lisa is worried about whether Kyer will be able to keep her risqu=E9 filks=20 about LaCroix to herself at the upcoming Conversion day party chez NA. She=20 hides Mr. Spitz as a way of keeping Kyer under control. Anjali is worried=20 about being among the NA's and seeing LaCroix after the Jeweled Peach caper. From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IlmN-0005XU-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:32:19 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4754; Mon, 23 Aug 99 00:20:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8254; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:20:21 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:15:36 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: CUZ: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human!" (2/6) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6f4d6a66e9988df9e8d4b791867e468a "I USED TO BE A VAMPIRE, BUT NOW I'M JUST A PLAIN 'OL HUMAN!" (2/6) By Cousin Lisa (also known as Cousinly Merc Lisa), Screedification by Libby, and input by Cousine Celeste When: Friday Morning, Aug. 20, approximately 10:00 a.m. Where: The studios of the Jerry Tate Show Characters: Cousinly Merc Lisa, Cousine Celeste, Cousins McLisa and Becky; Raven Alexander, Ravenette Kimberly and Caroline; Screed, Ratpackers Libby, Johnsie, Michele and Marissa; NatPacker James; Vaqueras Felicia, Tracy, Sue and Scott; Enforcements Cousin Raven, Steve, Kim, Enid, Maria, Katilina, Taryn, Amber and Kadira; Unnamed Faction April and Susan; Light Cousins Arletta, Brandi, Annette and Shelley; N&NPackers Angela, Tammy and Chana; GSS Kim; Dolticus the demon, Tizzie the cat. ***************** Meanwhile backstage ***************** "Hey, Libby...Screed...guys...thanks so much for coming," Cousin Lisa called out to them in greeting. "I really appreciate your willingness to help me out with this." "H'ain't nuthing fer an old war droog o' mine," Libs said. "Don't think about h'it. Johnsie wuz h'able ta doggie sit fer me so's weren't no trubble." "Ol' Screed really luved ya pro-gram-a-rama a couple o' wars ago," Screed said. "Wouldna miss h'it fer such a fiesty wench az ya'self." "Fie...fiesty wench? Ahhhh...okay. Screed?" Lisa asked, "you remember Jerry don't you?" "Screed," smiled Jerry reaching out to shake his hand, "so nice to see you again." "Wot ya said," Screed replied, putting his arm around Jerry. "Maybe we kin get tagether h'after the show, put the naughty h'on a couple o' fiesty wenches, then tuck h'inta a pub fer a bit o' bubble n' squeak - h'an Oi h'ain't talkin' squeakers. Tha' Cuz-wuz Lisa 'i a might' fin' looka', don' ya' thin'." With that, Screed gave Lisa a bit of a leer. "Yes...yes...she is...a fine looker...Well...I'll see you on stage," Jerry said, backing away from Screed a bit nervously, before turning and heading out to the auditorium. The RatPacker crowded around Screed to chat with him before he was called out onto the stage. Every now and then he would glance up from his conversation with them to Lisa a little wink and make little kissy faces at her. "Oh dear," Lisa said while continuing to attempt to breath. "I forgot about that little wench problem of his," she said to Cousine Celeste who had just returned backstage after having checked on the audience. "Well," Celeste said while attempting to keep a straight face, "you're a single woman, he's a single guy; I say go for it. I bet you two would make a really good team." "Ha...Ha...Ha, Celeste. Very funny. Why don't you go check on Cousin Becky?" ***************** Dressing Room Area ***************** "Why do *I* have to do this?" whined Cousin Becky. "Because too many people know what I look like and I have to help out Lisa," Celeste replied. "Now stop fidgetting." "I look like an Elvira-wannabe in this outfit. Can I at least skip this ridiculous wig?" she asked while scratching along the edges. "You look fine," replied Celeste, putting the finishing touches on the make-up of the mortal who was pretending to be a mortal who used to be a vampire, who, at one time, long ago, was a mortal... if that makes any sense. "Now let's go, we've got to get you out on stage." "Wait!" exclaimed Becky as Celeste began pushing her toward the door while attempting to nonchalantly block the mirror. "I want to make sure I look okay." "You look great, Becky," smiled Celeste, "trust me." ************************* TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 3 ************************* ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Mon Aug 23 06:20:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ilsd-0003F3-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:38:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2600; Mon, 23 Aug 99 00:36:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9900; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:36:38 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:38:24 EDT Reply-To: TheLadyT@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "L.J. Conk" Subject: War: UF: "A Honey Of A Day" (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ebf646470e71d475b5e3b74bed5a0bae War: UF: "A Honey Of A Day" By: Susan Ellen Field And Lora C Setting: The Hive, UF HQ Time: Friday, immediatly following Vaquero Rae's kidnapping (sorry this is so late) All UFers, and Vaq Rae, abused with permission; special thanks to Fenris for use of her great story! "Okay, lets get her out of the bag!!" said Lora. Cleo and Presence untied the laundry bag. It fell to the floor leaving a perplexed Rae looking at the group surrounding her. One of Becky's dirty socks was draped across her shoulder. "Whats this all about?" she demanded, shaking it off. "You have been officially abducted by the UF!" said Jules as she and April pushed the UF's captive down into an overstuffed chair in the front room of the Hive. Her wrists were secured with handcuffs and her legs and ankles were tied together. "But guys!! I need to be with the Vaqueros!! I am one of the organisers of the Kareoke party!!" Rae said, hoping it would make them release her.(Yeah right!) "Resistance is Futile!!" said Shan, bringing a Marguerita with a straw to Rae's lips. Rae took a huge sip and, after a moment, realised that struggling would get her no place fast, besides, the Marguerita was really good! Lora left the room for a moment and came back with a pot of The Hives Own Honey, and a honey dipper. She handed the honey pot to Susan as she walked over to Rae, then handed the dipper to Megan to do the deed. Megan slowly dribbled honey over Rae. It went down her neck, her stomach, down her legs into her feet.... "Guys, no please!!!!!" But her pleas went unheeded as the slow torture (although really pleasent sensation) continued. As Megan dribbled, Lora used a stage whisper in Jules ear. "Do We have to clean the upholstry after the War, or does the Don usually take care of things like that? Megan finished with each of Rae's earlobes being fully coated. Rae was feeling just a bit uneasy because outside the front window were a bunch of buzzing bees that seemed to be attracted to the honey! Becky noticed Rae's frantic expression and, after following her gaze, quickly closed the window. Shan refilled the Marguerita glass, then returned it to Rae. (After another couple of those, Rae was beginning to feel pretty good about being held prisoner!!) "Okay guys -- its time for the next phase of UFish torture!!" Lora announced. She motioned to April who quickly ran to the Hive's "Blue Room," which was filled with the very best in UFish reading material. April returned and handed Lora the requested material. "Alright Rae, I am about to read passeges from something; you must give me the correct answer as to what it's from!!!!" "Well, er.... okay, can I have another drink while your reading?" Needless to say, another Marguerita was on the way as Lora searched for the appropriate PG-13 passages. Lora began to read................ "A Classic 1962 Aqua Caddilac cruised along the main streets of Toronto, carrying its increasingly nervous owner to work" Rae thought about it a bit, the drinks were not helping her to concentrate....... "Hmmmmmmmm" Rae searched her memory for UFish story titles. ""Love in the Library"?" "WRONG!!!" the UFers said in unison. Megan scopped more honey and poured it over Rae. "PFTTT!! Rae said as it dripped on her tongue. "We will try again!!! Lora said and began to read another sentence: "Nick was ready for it; had in a way been looking for a cathartic battle with Lacroix"... (just then, Megan, knowing this was a PG kinda WAR, held up her hand to stop Lora, then whispered a few lines into Rae's ear.) Lora contined."....after which he'd hoped they could sit, drink, and hopefully talk while they both healed!" Shan was starting to sip Rae's drink herself -- this was good reading! Rae once again searched for the right answer."Er... is it "Solace"?" "WRONG!" her captors shouted again. Yet more honey was poured over Rae. Susan thought it would be a good time to cook some bisquits to go with all that honey, so she handed the honey pot to April and went off to the kitchen to whip up a fast batch using her world famous recipe! "Well Rae", Lora said squinting her eyes, "looks like that was too hard for you, so being the nice UFers that we are, here is a different line of questioning"..... Scenes from The Train Sequence from "Jane Doe", The "Honey and Wine" scene from "Trophy Girl", and the scene from "NIQ" where LC slices his wrist and Nick's were shown to the captive Vaq... but Rae could not identify anything, and the honey coating her was getting a tad thick!!! "Okay, you get one last chance with the story, Rae!" Lora stared to read again......... Because the War was PG-13 sorta (g) Megan once again held her hand up to stop Lora and whispered into Rae's ear the first part of the passage. Lora continued the passage. "He calmly opened the book and turned to the title page. As he opened it, Nick looking down incredulosly at his master caught sight of the title,"WAR AND PEACE"." ""Station Break"?" answered Rae, hoping it was the right title. Everyone rolled thier eyes around. Surely Rae should have known the right answer after hearing that! Megan was about to pour more honey when, as if a light bulb went off, Rae suddenly knew! ""Light Reading"!!" Just as Lora was going to respond that the torture was a success and that Rae was once again a good UFer, Tybalt began barking. Presence ran over to the window then yelled back to the UFers, "The Vaqueros Are Coming!!" Jules quickly ran over to Rae and uncuffed her, Shan quickly replaced the Marguerita in Rae's hand with a fresh pot of honey. Hopping because her legs were still tied, and she was still dripping from all the honey, Rae headed for the door as the Vaqueros, along with Vachon, entered the Hive. "Vachon!! Thank goodness you've come to rescue me!" Rae shouted. Vachon rushed toward her as Rae hobbled swiftly over to him, then lost her balance and fell into him, spilling honey over them both. "Nice to see a couple stick together like that, isn't it?" Jules said. Just then Susan came out with a tray of fresly baked bisquits."Come and get-um folks!!!" Needless to say, Rae, Vachon, and the Vaqueros ran out of there as quickly as possible. The UFers, however, weren't so lucky.... The End From - Mon Aug 23 06:20:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Iluq-0003Hm-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:41:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4866; Mon, 23 Aug 99 00:37:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0082; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:37:53 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 21:40:36 -0700 Reply-To: Liz the Lucky Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Liz the Lucky Subject: WAR: Nothers: A Nother Fun Time To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6c81ddc10b3c97ad922549805f1fd084 I'm posting this for Fleurette, cuz she was a bad girl and posted it without the War header and now it won't let her repost. ;-) Title: A Nother Fun Time 01/01 written by: Jeanne Stevenson (danjean@epix.net) and Fleurette B. Place: Chateau des Autres & various places around Toronto Time: Tueday, Aug, 17th, morning & afternoon, day follow le Chateau's opening. Disclaimer: jeanne (Mom) and Fleurette used by permission. NightDancer mentioned by permission. ************ Jeanne, aka Mom, aka Fleurette's RL mother, woke up and wondered what was next? So much had happened since she had been here at Le Chateau. Her second thought was to check on Fleurette and see how she was feeling this morning. Reluctantly she got out of her bed. Today it kept calling her back but she started getting dressed anyway. Blue jeans and her Buddy shirt was the most comfortable things she could put on today. She had had the T-shirt made after her toy poodle has passed away. It gives her great comfort to wear it, and today was going to be one of those days. Now off to see what Fleurette was doing. Fleurette's door was ajar and mom walked in just in time to here Fleurette telling Liz to "Take the ratsie's and dye them pink." ??? *********** After Mom had made her phone calls and gotten her paper work done, she decided to get Fleurette and go on a fun run of sorts. As she made her way to Fleurette's room she passed the foyer where NightDancer was still sleeping. "Girls" Mom thought as she continued on. ********** Fleurette was sitting at her desk, lost in thought as she entered the office. "How are you feeling?" she asked. "Fine," replied Fleurette, "Just can't seem to come up with a single thing right now," she sighed. "Looks as if I came by at the right time. I've decided to go into town. Want to go with me and have ourselves a regular Mommy Debbie Day?" "Cool", said Fleurette, "I'll just go and get my things. Seems like ages since we've been out together." ********** They took Fleurette's car--a maroon 1995 Subara Impreza--into Toronto that day, as the Nothers van was being washed. Their first stop was the Post Office. Fleurette had been notified that she had a package from the Snixco Corporation which needed to be picked up. Mom mailed some letters back home and then they were off. Shopping came next. they wandered all the nicer stores in Toronto, looking for baby things and other fun things. Then they found their way to a bookstore and Fleurette got lost in the bookstacks, as usual. her mother should have known better than to take her to a bookstore. However, they both walked away with a bag full of books on Celtic Ireland, so it wasn't a total loss. The day ended at Starbucks. Mom ordered a mocha latte, while Fleurette ordered herbal tea. They talked and chatted for hours, and returned to le Chateau just befere 5 pm. ************* Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm Hugs and Kisses, Liz the Lucky FoD Merc luckyliz@mindspring.com Nanette Nother http://www.mindspring.com/~luckyliz From - Mon Aug 23 06:20:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Imbj-00076d-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 01:25:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5027; Mon, 23 Aug 99 01:23:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3922; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 01:23:14 -0400 Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 22:22:41 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Sunrise Service To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2bb811effa6760dc5a97f71c6ba4580f *********************************** Knighties: Sunrise Service by Chris Rosmini The Loft Sunday Aug. 22, Dawn Nick, the Knighties, Adriana and the Bentley used with permission. Roz woke at the quiet sound of the stairway door opening and peered sleepily over the edge of the balcony where she had built her nest for the duration. There seemed nothing to have roused her in the room below, or it's sleeping inhabitants, until she saw a silent figure watching from the open doorway who raised a finger to his lips and made a little writing motion with one hand before he gently closed the door. She scrabbled around, finding the note on her pillow, "I borrowed your car." before letting her head fall gratefully back to the bedding and hopefully to sleep. *Dear God it isn't even dawn!* she thought. ******************************************* He drove through the waking city, delighting in the brightening air, feeling the immanence of dawn as some inescapable inner call. For nearly eight hundred years the coming and going of the Sun had governed his life as inexorably as the laws of Physics ... more powerful really, since until just recently he'd been able to fly ... and even now he felt the pull of approaching morning on an almost cellular level. *It's just habit* he told himself, and parked the grand old car to watch the Dawn come up like thunder over Toronto the Good. Most of his contacts with the dawn had been literary, he thought, poetry, abstraction; although there were photos now, and lately television that had allowed him to come to a window pane's distance from the Light. He climbed out of the car to eliminate even that barrier. He could do that now. And eyes closed, knowing himself unobserved, he spread his arms and spun himself around in the sunshine in a little triumphant dance that ended when he crashed into the side of the car laughing at his own giddy behavior. He stood there leaning against the fender and thought about his plans for the day ahead; the trip down Memory Lane with the Unnamed Faction would occupy most of it, but he had another appointment he wanted to keep before submitting to their culinary archaeology, a bit of research of his own. And so he stood a little later in front of St. John's Cathedral, of Toronto's churches the one most like, on the surface at least, the ones he had known in his first mortality; and he wondered if this was really as good an idea as it had seemed in the hours before dawn. He watched as a young woman with a bucket of flowers propped open the door and decided the time had come to test this particular question about his return to the human condition, and just possibly, to a state of Grace. "It's always good to know what the other side is doing." he recalled himself saying to his puzzled young partner, and wondered briefly if he'd ever seen himself completely in that light, or darkness rather. But he realized, as he looked around the dim interior at the handful of worshipers out as early as he, that while he had always kept himself informed of what the Church was doing, he didn't really know what churchgoers did. He'd become an expert at imitating human behavior though, he thought a little bitterly, and stood a while watching as people came and knelt and moved through their observances unaware an ex-creature of darkness was among them taking notes. He moved with them, ran his fingers along the stone surface of the font, unprepared to take that plunge quite yet, dropped a coin in a box and took a candle and drifted to one of the smaller chapels at the side, more comfortable out of the sight of the stern angels holding up the gilded arches of the roof. He smiled, startled a little as he read the nameplate at the feet of the carved figure in it's clumsy anachronistic armor that was the focus of this little space. And then, since flashbacks aren't the sole province of the vampire, he remembered the young girl he had known so long ago, saw her as clearly as if she still stood before him. "Take this" she said, holding her simple cross out to him, wrapped in cloth to shield him from it's touch. "To remember that the faith you've lost is always there to regain." A flood of memories followed ... his family ...his real family, kneeling in the chapel of his childhood home; his sister... memories from a time when he knew his place in the world of God and man unquestioningly ... a wall of flames ... and then the image of Natalie holding the same cross out to him. He opened his eyes to the figure in the chapel. "Well, Courage," he said softly, "we have both seen some transformations haven't we over the years.", and he lit the candle and placed it in the holder before her. He stared at the flickering light for a long moment then offered up a wordless prayer, for her, for everyone he cared for ... even the ones he thought lost beyond repair, for wisdom, for himself. He gathered his courage then for the final test and reached out to the tall cross that stood beside her, holding his breath as he laid his hand against it and felt ... nothing. Cool metal ... he ran his fingers down the gilded surface, no choir of angels, no trumpet voluntary, no overwhelming feeling of forgiveness. "No lightning bolts either" he said to himself, "I guess that's an improvement over last time", and suddenly uncomfortable, he shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced around him. **************************************** "Beautiful isn't it, Detective?" said the young priest, who had been watching him since he stepped out of that unlikely car. He recognized him of course. He had always been a puzzle, this young policeman with his pallor and angelic face his ancient eyes, but there was something different now. The man nodded and started quickly back toward the entrance. He followed. "Is it another case that brings you here?" he asked as they paused at the top of the steps. "Did you want to stay for the service?" "No, not this time, I was just looking for ..." the man stopped and closed his eyes for a moment, smiling, clearly enjoying the sudden wash of sunlight over him, like someone who hadn't felt it's warmth for a long time... it's promise. The priest glanced up at the sky and waited, watching curiously a while before saying "It feels like a ... benediction sometimes doesn't it, the sun?" "Yeah, Tell me about it." said detective Nicholas Knight. ****************************************** It wasn't all that late when Nick returned to the Loft, but his supporters were busy organizing and tidying and making room for the arrival of their unlikely guests. Or maybe it was their hosts. Anyhow they had dragged out the folding tables in case of need and even brought some pots and cut flowers down from the roof, a clear indication that it was a special occasion if Roz would allow that. Nick was touched at their efforts to make this a great day for him, and admired the flowers quite sincerely, thinking this was a better version of the "woman's touch" than the garments usually festooning the bathroom. He truly appreciated the momentary return to neatness, but he still felt a little detached from the whole flurry of activity. "I didn't want to get arrested or kidnapped or fed to the penguins." he said as he returned the car keys to Roz. She thought he looked a bit subdued, at least compared to his general behavior since he had rejoined the human race. But she put it down to the thoughts that must be being churned up by the impending reminders of his Before. "So you took something inconspicuous." She smiled "Just had to get away from us for a while?" "Never!" he said in mock reproach, then more seriously, "I was just looking for something. Something I mislaid a long, long time ago.". "Mm, Find it?" she asked. He thought about that for a surprisingly long time and then said, as if coming to an unexpected conclusion "I'm not sure, but may be." He looked around at his friends then with a smile of dazzling contentment, and said to nobody in particular "You know, when I was driving around I thought maybe if we're still here next Sunday some of us might like to go to church." They looked at him in surprise, and then Adriana said "You know, I'd really like that!". And some of the others nodded. And Nick said, very softly "So would I." Finis From - Mon Aug 23 06:20:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11ImeK-0007BI-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 01:28:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6430; Mon, 23 Aug 99 01:25:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3992; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 01:25:55 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 01:27:27 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Vetterburg Vendetta (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: eb4933f8710a46bda2964c5f82bbd9bc Title: Vetterburg Vendetta (2/3) Author: Shelley and Arletta Asbury, with permission = from all used Date: Thursday Evening, August 20th Time: After "Vetterburg Vendetta (1/3)" "Hmmmm, I see opportunity here" Brandi said, looking at Shelley in her current condition. "I mean, we could call the pink, uh, *thing* she's wearing the official tour guide's outfit!" Annette looked hopeful, but Arletta shook her head. "No, I don't think we can risk letting her lead any tours" she replied, also = looking across the room at Shelley who was busy plotting... something. "I think we need to get her back to CERK and find = someone to undo this, this, uh, this..." Arletta finally just shook her = head, not knowing what to call whatever it was that had transformed the woman into a pitch fork wielding, monster hunting, pink wearing = German with a bad accent. "Ah HAH!" Shelley yelled out, then muttered something sounding = like "Doktor Natenstein vill *hate* zat!!" before returning to her = plotting again. She was blissfully unaware of the three Light = Cousins discussing her on the other side of the room. Annette, who had jumped 5 feet into the air when Shelley yelled, = settled warily back into her wooden chair. "Why don't we tell her the monster is at CERK?" she suggested, still eyeing the woman. "Won't that *upset* her again?" Brandi asked with a shudder. "It might" Arletta agreed, thinking about how long it had taken her to calm Shelley down that afternoon. "Well, it *is* nighttime, = maybe she'll want to sleep soon?" she offered. "Worth a try" Annette shrugged. = Arletta, Annette, and Brandi walked over to where Shelley was = sitting, smiling what they hoped were soothing smiles. "Um, Shelley?" = Arletta smiled, "we were going to go back to CERK and go to bed = now..." "Why don't you, well, uhhhh..." Brandi tried. "Come....with us?" Annette finished, voice rising slightly at the = end of the question. The three flashed more soothing smiles. "Vat? Leave here?? But ve have triumphed! Za evil Doktor = Natenstein has no more evil house...it is OURS!" Shelley, much = to the alarm of the three others, picked up her pitchfork and began = whooping and doing a very uncoordinated version of a victory = dance. Backing away slowly, still smiling soothingly, Arletta and the others broke into a run when they reached the door. They didn't stop until they were seated in Shelley's van, doors locked, and engine running. "What now?" Arletta asked the other two. Annette shrugged, "I'm NOT going back in there!" she announced = as she heard another victory whoop go off inside. "Maybe she'll be calmer in the morning?" Brandi asked hopefully. "But what if she gets away and begins wandering the streets of Toronto?" Arletta asked. "Someone has to go back in there" she sighed, getting out of the van. -------------------- Coming back to the van about 10 minutes later, she smiled. "I = think it's taken care of" she announced. "What did you *do*?" Annette asked. "What did you *say*?" Brandi asked. "Well, I told her we'd be back in the morning for her. That we = were planning to go storm the summer castle of Dr. Natenstein = then," Arletta said giggling. "Hopefully she'll wait here for = us," Arletta added as she slid into the drivers seat and started = the van. = ----------------------------------------- (Continued in "Vetterburg Vendetta (3/3)") From - Mon Aug 23 06:20:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11In4U-00007k-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 01:55:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6526; Mon, 23 Aug 99 01:52:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5538; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 01:52:55 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 01:56:17 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: A Knightie Gets a Piece (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5eeecbf3ac5f6e6c5a73440b4a7fadc5 WAR: A Knightie Gets a Piece (1/1) by Sandra Gray Time: Aug 14th, near dawn, sometime after "Private Counsel" Place: the Loft Named Knighties and Nick used with permission. Knighties searched high. Knighties searched low. On the roof, on the second floor, on the main floor, in the basement. The interest generated by the events of the evening powered them, but many were getting tired. No one had yet found any trace of Galen's Cube. Hopeful looks whenever someone entered the living room after searching her assigned area disappeared when the person showed up empty-handed. Suddenly the assembled Knighties heard a shriek from the basement. Fearing some attack, Nick rushed for the door to the lower level, followed by several Knighties. As he opened the door, he was nearly knocked down by Zoe. "I found it! I found it!" she shrieked. She waved an object over her head. Then, calming some, she handed it to Nick. Nick strode back toward the fireplace, the Knighties following closely with excited murmurings. He turned the object over in his hands, then turned to his followers, his expression grim. "This isn't Galen's Cube," he said. "Are you sure?" asked Sandra. "You said lightning struck you. Maybe it...fried the cube a bit." "It wouldn't have changed this drastically." Everyone looked at the object as he held it up between his fingers and thumb and turned it to catch the light. Strange veinings of gold and silver flashed as he turned the many-sided object. "Then what is it?" asked Chris F. "I don't know," said Nick. He lowered his hand. "Then I guess we'll just have to find out," said Sandra. "I wonder if anyone at the ROM can tell us some more about the Galen's Cube, or what this is," said Co-Leader Chris. Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Mon Aug 23 06:20:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Io20-0003Rc-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 02:56:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6716; Mon, 23 Aug 99 02:54:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8299; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 02:54:29 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 16:56:15 +1000 Reply-To: TALIESYN@C031.AONE.NET.AU Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Alexander J. Braun" Organization: access one Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: Ravenettes just want to have fun To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7b614579e8d6c92d0b019b9783b73710 Title: Ravenettes just want to have fun(to the tune of Cindy Laupers girls just want to have fun) Place: The Raven Time: Wednesday night Alex sitting at the bar late at night wednesday drinking wine (so what's new) watching his fellow ravenettes enjoying them selves, LeeAnn dancing with one of the ex-vamp males swirling around in a long black dress that Janette said for her earlier to wear, her short blond hair bobbing around, I notice all the ravenettes were dancing or talking to the ex-vamps especially the male handsome ones typical I thought. Now Kimberly found a interesting ex-vamp a 17th century french musketeer named Aramis(nah couldn't be I thought) she was dancing around him her long blond hair swirling around, he looked interested in her as she was laughing at him. Now Caroline was at the bar eyeing Miklos and he knew it, she was thinking on all the things she would like to do(which I cannot mention as this is a pg13 war) Kathy was watching them both drinking a chocolate drink and enjoying the show and looking at Caroline's black dress thinking she could wear something like that. Lorna in a satin dress was at the bar talking with a couple of ex-vamps who wanted to see how much of mortal life they could enjoy with a mortal, Lorna just kept laughing at them not taking both of them too seriously sometimes tapping one or the other with her cane made of dark mahogany tipped with silver and a black ebony ravens head handle making sure they behaved themselves, Claudia was on the floor dancing in a long dark silk dress with a few ex-vamps one a 16th century pirate long black hair a Spaniard I think the other a norseman blonde hair and beard she looked like she was making them work for her attention. The ravenettes were relaxing after a fast and furious start to the war they had been thinking about making plans and deciding on which factions to align with on taking revenge on the Enforcers after what they had done to Janette. Janette was watching the festivities very happy now her hair restored to to what it was before the Enforcers attack and that dress burned. The plastering went well yesterday and everyone was looking foreword to seeing the finished result. So far Alma had been occupied with some of the other ex-vamps but occasionally looked at me a smile I decided to walk over to Janette as this would keep me out of trouble with Alma, "Janette have you thought of where to have your statue placed?" I asked Janette. "Not yet Alexander that needs more thought" Janette smiled, I'm sure she knows that Alma has been trying to chat me up I thought. "Well I think we will to have a presentation party for your statue, maybe Tracy could have hers here as well have one big party the DP's Ravens and the Vaq's I'm sure they won't to be here" Janette looked at the ravenettes dancing and said "That's an excellent idea we will look in to it when the statues are finished" Janette started to walk to the back of the club, she turned around "Alex, don't drink too much I understand your going to several parties with the girls over the next few days, it would not look good if you have a hangover every day" she smiled and walked away. I decided to cage a cup of coffee from Miklos I'm sure the girls wouldn't mind me taking him away from them for a few minutes then get some sleep it will be a few busy days coming. -- Alex Braun - Taliesyn@c031.aone.net.au - ICQ # 12610993 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe". Marcus, B5 From - Mon Aug 23 18:13:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IvHX-0001Qk-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 10:41:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4930; Mon, 23 Aug 99 10:38:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6126; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 10:38:36 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 10:39:52 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: There are Tours, and Then There are TOURS (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e9e07368b52c770628ba30ad5e8be071 Title: There are Tours, and Then There are TOURS (1/1) Author: Shelley Date: Monday, August 23rd Time: Around 1pm Disclaimer: Thomas Veridelcho is a fictional character created by me and I give me full permission to use him . Shelley looked at the little slip of paper in her hand. On it, the name Thomas Veridelcho was scribbled, next to today's date and = 1pm. Since this was to be her first interview of one of the = applicant's for the tour guide position, she was wishing she = had more information than just a name, date, and time. Well, = it was a normal enough looking name, she thought, trying to find = something positive to concentrate on. The doorbell rang precicely at 1pm, which was a good sign. "This could be it...freedom from tours!" Shelley said under her breath as she opened the door and smiled. "Mr. Veridelcho?" she asked the young man standing there. "Yes, but please call me Tom" he replied, smiling in return. Shelley led him to one of the rooms off the foyer and motioned = for him to sit in a wooden chair. She took another one and = grabbed the list of questions they had all agreed on. Well, = agreed was too strong of a word ... the list that they had all = gotten sick of arguing over was closer to the truth. "Now, Mr., uh, Tom" she smiled again. "We have some = standard questions we will be asking all of the applicants, = so perhaps we can start with those." She saw him nod, and = continued "What kind of tour group experience do you have?" "Well, the group I was with previously spent a lot of time = together trying out different ways of approaching things...", = he replied. As he spoke about the previous group, Shelley's = mind wandered to that first tour she had given. An involuntary = shudder passed through her as she decided that something = would have to be *terribly* wrong with this canidate before = she would reject him. He seemed perfect, after all! He had stopped speaking, so she glanced at the next question. = Ahh, good, her contribution. "Can you explain what the architectural significance of 'Asymmetric Kanting' is?" As he launched into a discussion full of strange architectural (she assumed) terms, she gave herself the luxury of allowing her mind to wander again. How nice it would be to stop all the arguing over who gave the next = tour, and the nightmares of actually giving them. She smiled at the thought. The rest of the interview went on, with Shelley asking one of the predetermined questions, then daydreaming through his answers. = She tried to pay attention several times, but he really was perfect, = never even hesitated before giving an answer. What was there to = worry about? They had found the perfect tour guide. As the interview was drawing to a close, Shelley decided to ask one question of her own. Remembering he had mentioned a previous = tour group, she asked "What was the name of your last tour group?" = She thought it was a perfectly logical question. She thought nothing could go wrong. Then she heard the impossible. His answer. "The Minnow" he replied with another smile. He smiled a lot. = Almost, well, too much. = "The Minnow?? What kind of property was that?" "A tiny ship" he stated. "A tiny ship??" she repeated, feeling somewhat like a parrot in = some bad movie. She had the strangest feeling she knew where = this was going, and it wasn't going in the right place. "Yes, you know, The Minnow!" There was that darn smile again. "Uh, what KIND of tour was it?" she asked, afraid to hear the = answer, but knowing it was coming. "A three hour tour!" came the exact answer she didn't want to = hear. At that, he got up, and began singing at the top of his = voice the entire lyrics to the song from "Gilligan's Island". When = he was done, he just sat down and smiled that smile again. "Uh huh, and where did you say you lived again?" she asked, = now *very* sure she didn't want to know. "Oh, on the island...and sometimes, you know..." his voice = dropped to a whisper, "the hospital." "Uh, yeah, I kind of thought so", Shelley sighed. "It's been = a REAL pleasure talking to you Mr. Veridelcho" she said, = pushing him through the front door. "Don't call us, we'll = call you!" From - Mon Aug 23 18:13:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IwPP-000585-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 11:53:19 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9468; Mon, 23 Aug 99 11:51:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6385; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 11:51:00 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 08:58:12 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR: Nothers: A Nother Opportunity Lost 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8eb3324c0cd44a59bb4385a656db6feb Okay, I sent this out last ight and it never droppped, even after 8 or 9 hours. I figure that means it's not going to. Fleurette Title: A Nother Opportunity Lost 01/01 written by: Fleurette B & Liz the Lucky Place: Chateau des Autres Time: Saturday, Aug. 21, sometime in the late morning Disclaimers: LIz and Fleurette used because they wrote the story. This Follows the DP raid only in as much as it hapened the day after. ************ Fleurette shut the drawer to the desk, totally mystified. She'd been sure she'd left the funny-lookijng pendant in it. But it wasn't there now. Well, maybe if it wasn't in the front parlour, it was in her office. She rushed up the stairs to her office, passing Liz on the stairs. "Going somewhere?" Liz asked her. "I lost something that I think might be rather important," Fleurette replied, telling lIz about the strange gift that had been found by the front gate a few days earlier. "Sounds pretty," Liz said. "But I haven't seen it. Want help looking?" "Would you, Liz? I'm going up to check the office, and that might take all day!" Liz's eyebrows furrowed. "Why would it?" Fleurette sighed heavily. "You haven't seen our office lately, have you?" "That scary, huh?" the redhead teased. "Worse," said Fleurette. ************ Five hours later... "If I get my hands on her, she's dead!" Fleurette grumbled as she picked through a pile of papers on NigtDancer's desk. "Well, I give up," Liz announced. "I need a break." "You can't break! I need to find that thing!" "Well... lemme ask this,' said Liz. "Where'd you see it last?" I put it in the drawer in the front desk for safe keeping," Fleurette told her friend. "It was there right before we wnet over tot he DP mansion." "Then it should be there," Liz stated the obvious. "Unless someone moved it." Fleurette suddenly began to frown...even worse than she was already. "Uhoh," she said. "I think I know what happened to it." ************ Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 23 18:13:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ixf7-0001R1-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 13:13:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0001; Mon, 23 Aug 99 12:57:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3501; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 12:57:42 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 11:59:31 CDT Reply-To: Cousin Erik Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Erik Subject: WAR: NA: Someday My Prince Will Come... But Not Today (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ab4c0c645699b9b76fc50925518dd328 NA: Someday My Prince Will Come... But Not Today (2/2) by: Cousin Erik and Arymede Time: immediately after Part 1 Place: The Lair of the Sherwood Nunksister (Ary's room in the church) Ary rounded on Erik, still dazed and sputtering in the chair in the corner of the room. Fire blazed behind her eyes. Sure, she'd been as impressed with the faction's only male member. And, okay, so she was the one who flattened him in the sewers under CERK, making her, techinically, the first Addict he'd come in contact with. But that didn't mean... well, it didn't *mean* anything! "Of all the pompous, arrogant, pig-headed, *male* things to do! You... you... I can't even *tell* you what you are because this is a PG-13 list! But it's bad! Really bad! You are a really *bad*... word!" "Ary, what -- " Erik attempted to butt in, but Ary was just warming up. "Oh! Don't *even* try to feed me some bogus explanation! You got caught, so don't try to weasel out of it! You may be selling, but I'm not buying, buster." "I don't -- " Erik tried again. There was no stopping her, though. "The Phantom thing? It's actually pretty cute, and I'm sure you have a really great reason for it. But I got out of the secret admirer gig when I graduated middle school. I almost expected a note on my pillow next to the necklace: 'Do you like me? Check yes or no.' Geez!" "What are you -- " "I don't know what sort of person you're used to, but *I* am not overly impressed by wealth. Throwing your money at me is *not* going to make me fall at your feet like you obviously expected." "I never -- " "Oh, right. You never thought that. You just wanted to give me something as beautiful as me. Heard it! Heard 'em all, pal, so don't try feed me some overworked line like that." Ary pulled the necklace out of her pocket. "Now get out! And take this... thing with you!" As she raised her hand to throw the necklace back at Erik, the resident Nunkamale finally decided he'd heard enough. He stood and caught her raised wrist with one hand and gripped her shoulder with the other hand. His eyes, normally a rich chocolate brown, were now coal-black in anger. He stared down the inch or three at her and growled, with the force of every "Angry Nunkies Moment" he'd ever seen, "Enough!" The Evil Freshman swallowed hard as she looked up into Erik's eyes. If she screamed, would anyone hear her? And if they did, could they get there before Erik... did whatever it was he was going to do? What Erik did, in fact, was release her as he took a step beside and past her. "Whoever gave you that necklace, I'm sure wanted you to have it very much. But that person *was* *not* *me*. I've never seen it before, and I have never been in a position where I would have had an opportunity to give it to you even if I had." Erik's eyes had more or less resumed their natural color, and his voice softened as he continued, "I am going to leave now. I would like very much if I never heard about this again." The male Addict turned on his heel and strode out, leaving a very red-faced Nunksister behind him. --- End --- _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 23 18:14:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Iz3q-0006Cu-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 14:43:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9575; Mon, 23 Aug 99 14:36:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4973; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 14:36:01 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 13:37:15 -0500 Reply-To: litemoon@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Prince Subject: WAR: CUZ: "I Used To Be A Vampire..." (4/6) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cab47c0a23e335eea53f2bbe1d5d6260 WAR: CUZ: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human" (4/6) When: Friday Morning, Aug. 20 What time: between 10:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m. Where: The studios of the Jerry Tate Show Characters: Same as in post 1 and too many to keep listing :) WAR: CUZ/MERC: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human" (4/?) By: Cousin Lisa with Screedification by RatPacker Libby and input from Cousin Celeste *************** WE WANT TO WORK YOU OUT!! "We at Fabulous Flora's Fat & Fitness Farm would like to introduce you to a new type of fitness. We'll work you out and fill you up. We'll give you the pleasure of working out without the guilt from secret chocolate binges. How do we do it you ask? We say, 'Binge while you're working out and prevent those guilty feelings.' So, next time you want to work out, drop by Fabulous Flora's Fat & Fitness Farm and bring along a couple of Snickers bars to give you the energy you need to make it through your StairMaster workout. **************** While the crowd was waiting for the commercial spot to end, the RatPackers were having a serious conversation...for RatPackers, that is. You couldn't quite tell that it was serious from the words coming out of their mouths -- I mean, really, who could understand a word a Ratpacker says anyway -- but the looks on their faces gave the tone away. Marissa said, "I's no sur' it was a filinki' good idea lettin' ol' Screedie be so ow-wit in th' open an' vul-la-near-rabble here." "'Eah, Libs, wot if sum'thin 'appens, eh?" Michele agreed. "Nuthin's gonna 'appen," Libby assured her fellow RatPackers. "E's goes on the tee-vee. Who would be stup-i-fried e'nuff ta try sum'thin' in front o' a camel-ra? Be-sides, we're 'ere an' we kin pro-tect 'im, kin't we?" ****************** Meanwhile backstage ****************** The rats flowed in slowly at first and then more and more quickly. As they began making their way out into the studio audience, the RatPackers, who were always keenly aware of rats, noticed them. Johnsie muttered, "Uh, o', spit-et-the-o's. me thinks there moight be a bit o' a prubblem." "Ya h'aren't supposin' tha' Jerry droog will 'ave a prublem wit' a few ro-dentures, da ya?" Libs asked. "Why would 'e?" Michele shrug. "After h'all, they're h'all ratsies an' they did 'ave bathsie-time durin' the last war. They're still kind o' clean an' don't smell h'all tha' strong.... fur ratsies. 'Less tha' ratsie wot ya labeled Kenny shows h'up, o' course." Kenny, the arrogant ratsie from hell, chose that moment to saunter by, making sure his label was plainly visible. He paused long enough to use his lil' ratsie tongue to blow a lil' ratsie raspberry. The Ratpack dove at Kenny, hoping to squash him. They ended up in a Ratpacker Pileup , only Kenny was not at the bottom, Libby was. "Ouch," Libs moaned, looking more than a little dazed as she attempted to breathe from her place under the RatPack. "'ey! Why ya' ratsies do tha'? Ge' off o' me. I t'ink ya' broke me goite'!" The rest of the audience and Jerry were looking at the RatPackers rather strangely so they picked themselves up, dusted themselves off and sat down to watch the show...and keep an eye out for Kenny. That rat could be trouble. ************************* TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 5 ************************* Cousin Lisa aka (The Original Cousinly Merc) litemoon@ix.netcom.com From - Mon Aug 23 18:14:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IzI1-0006yp-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 14:57:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9645; Mon, 23 Aug 99 14:55:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5935; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 14:55:43 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 13:57:34 -0500 Reply-To: litemoon@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Prince Subject: WAR: CUZ: "I Used To Be A Vampire..." (6/6) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 839f649efdd40b770f687f12761a4336 WAR: CUZ: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human" (6/6) When: Friday Morning What time: between 10:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m. Where: The studios of the Jerry Tate Show Characters: Same as in post 1 and too many to keep listing :) WAR: CUZ/MERC: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human" (6/6) By: Cousin Lisa with Screedification by RatPacker Libby and input from Cousine Celeste Ravenette Caroline waved her hand frantically in an attempt to get the moderator to call on her. Deciding the woman was either in desperate need of a psych ward or wanted to ask a question *really* badly -- just the kind of audience member that boosts the ratings -- the moderator walked up the aisle and handed her the microphone. "Screed, have you ever thought of getting a make-over? The Ravenettes would be happy to help you out. We just excel at style. Janette could give you a bunch of pointers. Some new clothes, a little cologne and I'm sure we could have the ladies just crawling all over you. You'd be positively gorgeous," she said. Kimberly looked at Caroline as if she had lost her mind. 'Great,' Kimberly moaned inwardly. 'How am I going to explain this to Janette?' But it looked like Kimberly might be safe when Screed answered. "Wot?" Screed said, shocked. "Put the pretty-dye h'on me mug loik Oi'm down h'on Queen Street h'on a Satter-day 'eve? Ol' Screed's h'already a ladies' type o' manly man. H'as me friend Cuzin Missy Lisa. She kin't keep 'er paws h'offen me." Screed paused, turning to find Lisa and then given her an wink. "Think Oi'll be h'askin' 'er h'out fer some datin' an' maybe some matin'...." With that Screed leapt up and ran over to grab Cousin Lisa where she was standing to the side. It would be an understatement to say that Lisa was a bit concerned at this. She wiggled and squirmed and tried to get away from him. All to no avail. "'ello e luv-er-ly lady," Screed whispered as seductively as he could. Lisa was justifiably horrified. Her horror was about to grow even worse and mortification was about to be added on. (Author's Note: The following scenes involves Screed kisses, any audience member who have weak constitutions, we recommend you go get some chocolate now.) Screed dipped Lisa backward a bit and planted a big whooping kiss right on her lips. The sound effects were quite auditory and most of the audience was attempting not to laugh at this point. All except the RatPackers who just looked on with wistful smiles and sighed. When the kiss ended Screed danced a little jig while holding Lisa's hand, then he gave her a little spin and sauntered proudly back to his chair in a very 'I'm the man' sort of manner. Lisa wound up sitting in a heap on the floor desparately wiping at her mouth saying, "Icckkk, I've got Screed germs on my lips. Bring me some rubbing alcohol. Bring me some anticeptic. Bring me some bactin, polysporin, anything." Cousine Celeste was too busy rolling on the floor laughing to be of much help. Jerry looked from Screed to Lisa to Celeste and back again with a mixture of horror and amusement. Before he had a chance to continue on with his show, Dolticus the demon came storming through the studio. He bellowed a few times trying to scare people, but he was kind of tired because he'd had a busy day. So instead of killing audience members, he headed into the basement of the studio where he had made a home for himself since his arrival in this dimension. "Lewk h'at tha!" Screed cried. "Over-sized, smellin' bad dee-mans ruinin' the funsies. Worse than De-fec-a-tive Won't Nibble h'a Neck." ****************** Down in the basement ****************** The Enforcement team were huddled together chuckling about Lisa's predicament and trying to listen to what else was going on through the sounds of laughter. They were so occupied with their task that they didn't notice Dolticus behind them. Luckily Dolticus was a bit worn out from terrifying the countryside. Instead of turning them into little crispy critters where they stood, he had to settle for something else -- something a bit less permanent. His demon mind took a moment or two to process the information and decide on a mode of operation. With a grin that was all sharp pointed fangs, he got their attention with a bellow. The Enforcements closest to him -- Raven, Taryn, Amber, Amy and Kadira -- turned around *very* slowly. Dolticus continued grinning, bellowed one more time and began powering up. When his eyes began to glow brightly, the Enforcements started to back away from the creature. But there was no escape. In a flash of blinding electricity the Enforcements were turned a bright neon green. In addition, the electricity melted all of the equipment the Enforcements had been using. Because of his weakened state the coloring would only last a few days, but the equipment was gone for good. Dolticus was satisfied with his efforts...for now. All in all, he'd had a pretty good, demonic sort of day. ********************* Back in the studio ********************* Jerry had lost all control of his show. People were jumping up and asking questions, totally oblivious to any of his attempts at reinstating order. "What exactly *is* going on between you and Vachon?" UFer April asked with a leer. "Goin' h'on?" Screed repeated. "Whadda mean? ''E's me mate, best mate a droog kin 'ave, tha's fer sure, but ya gotta clar-i-cell yar verb-age." "Yeah, sure," said UFer Shelley "What's the real relationship between you two? "Re-lation?" Screed repeated again. "Wot h'are ya gettin' h'at? Loik Oi said, me n' Vachonetti are maties. Partners. Joined h'at the 'ips. We're...." "Yeah," asked N&NPacker Angela, "why did you always interfere in the relationship between Vachon and Tracy?" "Wot? Enter-fear? Moi?" Screed said. "Ol' Screed's friends wit' the missy. Oi loik 'er. She's a roight pretty thing wot ta put yar peepers h'on. Smells loik flowers, real nice. V'man an' 'er are roight friendly, ya know, real cute loik h'a pair o' pups. Be'sides, oi got me a roight nice goilie," he smiled over at Lisa. Lisa simply looked at him from her place on the floor and with a hand to her forehead said, "Oh the humanity. I think I need a doctor." Then she asked to no one in particular, "Where's Nat when you need her?" At the mention of Nat's name Cousin Shelley lost all restraint, leapt to her feet and bellowed, "DEATH TO THE OPPRESSOR." Then, pitchfork in hand, Shelley ran for the stage. Arletta, who had been sitting next to Shelley, attempted to grab the delusional Cousin as she raced by. When she missed the pink woman on a mission, Arletta groaned and tried to crawl under her chair. McLisa saw what Arletta was attempting and walked up to her to offer some advice, "My cat always says, 'If your whiskers don't fit, don't try to squeeze your body through. You'll just get your head stuck between the bars and your human will laugh at you." A 'whatever,' could be heard coming from under the chair where Arletta wished she could disappear entirely. Meanwhile, Cousin Shelley was yelling into the microphone trying to get the audience to join her cause. "WE MUST PREVAIL. OUR LIVES DEPEND UPON IT. OUR PEOPLES HAVE LIVED IN HARMONY FOR DECADES. NOW IS THE TIME FOR US TO COME TOGETHER, RISE UP AND DESTROY OUR OPPRESSOR. THE DOCTOR AND HER EXPERIMENTS MUST BE STOPPED. "Coo! Lewk h'at tha! H'all pretty n' pink," Screed remarked as Libby and the other RatPackers dragged him off the stage before the pitchfork waving madwoman could harm their man. "You know," Chana remarked to her companions as they inched their way toward the door, "I do believe she's talking about Nat." After much cajoling, Arletta had Shelley under control and was bringing her to the Cousinly Leaders so that someone could cure her of her lingering mental problem. ************************ "Oh guys," Lisa apologized, "I'm really sorry things turned into such a mess." Lisa had finally gotten all the audience out the door safely. "No pro-blem-o h'at h'all," Libs said. "Been h'interestin' 'angin' wit' ya, an' Hogtown Toronto h'iz ne'er dull." Screed wiggled his eyebrows at Lisa as he left the studio. *********************** "What a disaster," Lisa sighed as she continued sweeping the studio floor.. "Oh, I don't know," Celeste replied, holding the dustpan. "At least we weren't bored out of our skulls for a morning. I mean, it was a roight h-in-trestin' 'alf h'our or so, and we learned a second language, sort of." "But I didn't 'get' the Enforcement faction. That was the whole... point..." Lisa trailed off as she noticed a group of people in black trying to sneak out the side entrance. "Aren't *those* the Enforcements? I'd swear that's Raven. Why are they all neon green?" Lisa wondered outloud. Lisa and Celeste looked at one another, looked back at the blinding brightness of the green Enforcement team, and began to chuckle evilly. "Well," Lisa said, "my plan didn't come off like it was supposed to, but the Enforcers *are* neon green and that should satisfy the people who hired me. Although I do feel a bit guilty for accepting payment when I didn't actually do anything." "Oh, that's okay, Lisa," Celeste answered, "I somehow suspect they aren't going to mind." ****************** THE END...FINALLY :) ****************** Cousin Lisa litemoon@ix.netcom.com Quote for the day: "Well, it looks easy enough." From - Mon Aug 23 18:14:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Izxr-0007YV-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 15:41:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7868; Mon, 23 Aug 99 15:29:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4941; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 15:29:46 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 12:29:12 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War:NA: Harem Holiday 04/04 (rewrite) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b155ee52651bf02d5032903c4aefc5dd This is posted with McLisa's permission. NA: Harem Holiday 04/04 (rewrite) by Patt Elmore When: Evening, Thursday, August 19, 1999 The party at Nick's Harem Concurrent and wedged in between segments of "War: Knighties: A Knight out (1/1)" Where: Harem HQ Addicts all used with permission and input; Harem wives and staff used with permission of the Harem leadership. Nick used with permission of the Knightie leadership Vaqs used with permission and input Rewrite requested by the Knightie leadership ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "You addicts have the most terrible taste in decorations," Vaquera Teresita sneered at the Third Cousin. "I hope that you properly appreciate the work we've done on your Shrine." "As I hope you enjoy what NA has done for your church," Patt replied, trying to push past the Vaq. "I think the worst example of bad folk art was the bottom of your pond," Vaq Tabitha joined in the taunting. "A little water- color took care of the problem, though." The two Vaqueras began to laugh. "You mutilated our mosaic?" Patt's voice raised a notch. "Well, we'll see how you feel when Uncle greets you at the Church every morning." "Oh . . . I'm shaking in my boots," Tammy shivered dramatically as she joined the group. "I need a drink to compose myself. How about a visit to that pit of a Peach?" The Vaqs chortled and punched at each other, delighted with their joke. "Have to admit, your trashing was more extensive than ours," Patt said. "But, then again, our ethics are more extensive. We'll chat more on this later, but I really need to run." Patt reached out, intent on forcing her way past the Vaqs. By now, the addicts on stage had noted their Third Cousin's situation and had hopped off the dais. They headed en mass toward the Vaqueras. Felicia caught Patt's arm, her glittering eyes meeting those of the Third Cousin. "We look forward to the opportunity." Then, the Vaqueras melted into the crowd. "Where did they go?" Caren said anxiously as she reached Patt's side. "Doesn't matter," Patt said, again looking for Amethyst. "Plenty of time to ventilate Vaqueras in a later story. Right now, we're running out of daily posting opportunities and I still don't have my truck." "Here." Patt felt a slight tap on her shoulder. The Third Cousin turned to face a smiling Amethyst, who dangled Patt's truck keys in front of the addict's nose. Instinctively, Patt made a fist and popped Wife#2's proboscis. Amethyst's eyes flew open wide and she fell *splat* on the floor. "Hey!" Nick vaulted off the stage and pushed through the crowd. "You can't do that to Amethyst! You're under arrest for assault!!" "Well, arrest her for auto thieving while you're at it," Patt cried as Nick reached Amethyst's side. He lifted the red-haired woman to a sitting position and cradled her in his arms. "Ith al rite, Nick," Amethyst said through her depressed nasal cavities. She turned to look at Patt. "Didn yu geth my mettage? I thent it to the Thrine." Patt looked over and glared at the group of snickering Vaqueras. Behind them, Javier Vachon dangled a piece of paper from his fingers. "Better hurry," he shouted. "The truk ith at Bob'th Thofa repare," Amethyst continued. "An the cuthionth are at the cleanerth nex door." "But, Amethyst," Nick said, his face contorted with worry and anger. "Your indiscretion still doesn't excuse this awful indignity that she has perpetrated on your person." "Why don yu juth kith it an make it bette?" Amethyst suggested. Patt grabbed the truck keys and gestured it was time to leave. The addicts picked up their skirts and sprinted for the lobby. "Toga!" Nite shouted as she ran. "Has anyone seen Egrus?" There was a crash behind the bar. In a whir of motion, three blenders hit the floor, spilling their contents. The barman did a wonderful job of trying to stay vertical, but to no avail. "There he is!" Glennis shouted, spying the bot trying to escape the liquid goo which held him glued to the floor. Monica grabbed up Egrus Toga and continued racing after the other NA's. As the addicts, closely followed by the Toenotes, burst into the reception area, the most awful Peach odor assaulted them. "You think they'll blame this on us too?" Jesse shouted, holding her nose against the noxious fumes. "You betcha," Erik nodded, shifting his half-mask so that it covered his nose. "Peach poop is nothing!" KC cried, running back into the room. "Wait until you see what I did to these inferiors." The addicts all turned and stared as KC began to cackle the most evil sound they'd ever heard. "She *is* more evil than Tiff," Dee conceded, handing Allie the $10.00 they'd bet earlier. "What did you do, KC?" Patt confronted the other addict. "I'm taking care of all our War problems in one big boom!" KC replied. "I planted a patented Snixco Mustard 'n Cheddar bomb under their stage." "You didn't?" Ivy was impressed, but scared to show it. "I hope that you're kidding, KC," Patt said softly. "Bombing is not good." KC just sneered. "You asked for idea snips and that's what I suggested for us to do. Deal with it!" "Toga, run!" The little bot struggled in Monica's arms until the woman was forced to release him. He began rolling back into the ballroom. "Bomb! Bomb!" he cried. "Hey, the little guy has another batch of drinks ready," one of the guests said, popping the blender's lid and dipping in. "Tasty!" "We've got to do something, Patt!" Caren said. "We can't let that bomb go off." Patt thought for a minute. "Erik, Caren . . . come with me. We'll see if we can defuse it. The rest of you--get to the van." She darted back into the ballroom, followed closely by her chosen team members. Ducking and weaving quickly through the party goers, the addicts reached the stage in record time. They burst through the access doors and headed under the stage. There, set by timer to go off in thirty seconds, was the Snixco Special. "We really need to get KC another hobby, something other than world domination and economic upheaval," Patt said, grasping the CC bomb. "No time to defuse--what do you suggest?" Caren and Erik looked at each, shrugged and took off. "Wonderful," Patt said, watching as the device ticked off to twenty seconds. Carrying the bomb, the Third Cousin clambered back out from under the stage and ran out the door into the parking lot. "Give it to me and I'll throw it in that vacant field," Tiff shouted as she raced toward Patt on her skateboard. "No time--we're at T-minus ten!" "Then toss it!" Tiff skillfully slipped off the skateboard and flipped it up with her foot, catching the board in mid-air. She held it ready, like a batter waiting for the pitch. Patt threw. Bomb connected with skateboard and rebounded with a loud *thwop*. It arched gracefully, then fell downward. Alas, the weight of the device caused it to fall short of the intended landing place. The bomb fell back to earth at the far end of the parking lot, rolling into position under a very nice van with Texas license plates. *KABLOOM* The addicts stared, aghast, as the very nice van seemed to implode, then suddenly appeared again, sporting an interesting new color. Yellow muck dripped from every inch of it, encrusting into dry patches with quick precision. "She's gonna be more p**sd about this than she is the nose," Patt nodded. She patted her pocket, found the two-for-one wash and wax she'd been given while in Trine's captivity and quickly stuck it under the slimey wiper blade. "It is definitedly time to move out now," Patt declared aloud. Giving a roundup wave with her hand, the Third Cousin herded the addicts into the van and the group quickly drove away, the Toenotes and Toga following in the Beetle . ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End 04/04 patt79ad@juno.com From - Mon Aug 23 18:14:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J0FQ-000121-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 15:59:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1620; Mon, 23 Aug 99 15:47:35 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7340; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 15:47:35 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 13:56:33 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP: Have Cape Will Travel (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6483ce94906524ef92c7416fcae5dc74 WAR: DP: Have Cape Will Travel (1/1) Place: the Vaqs party Time: Saturday night By: Cousin Mary The DPs showed up en masse at the Vaquera's Kareoke party. They were all dressed rather oddly, even for Dark Perks. Martin was looking a bit like...well, and Andrea was wearing... Then there was Maya, Carly, Ren and the others all looking... It wasn't 'til Caeryn swept in, in a full black cape, that it became glaringly obvious. The DP Thugs had come dressed as vampires. Shana was vamping it up in a long red Lucy Westenra-esque gown, complete with black velvet choker. Martin had chosen a more modern vampire, from a certain popular TV show on the WB that shall remain nameless. And Eric had gone for simplicity with an old fashioned tux with a "Hello my name is Vlad" sticker on the lapel. All in all, the lost boys and girls of the DP were just pleased as spiked punch to have a chance to run around and taunt the vampires before they got befanged again. Tracy, in her little black dress, just rolled her eyes and let her faction have their fun. Some people thought their shenanigans were quite amusing... others didn't. When some of the Thugs got on stage and sang any and every song mentioning vampires they could think of (Smashing Pumpkins, Sarah McLachlan, Rob Zombie) the Dark Perks in the audience cheered... and that was about it. Later on some of the Thugs sucked in some fake plastic fangs and went hunting their friends from other factions. Grabbing them, squealing with laughter, into the shadows before releasing them back into the party. ...After the war... they'd come back as DP themselves! (Bwhahahahahaha! ;-) Near the end of a great night, Mary, in her 'punk-vamp extra' costume, happened to notice someone in the back avoiding the stage like it was a guillotine. "Hmm," Mary set down her iced coffee and went to investigate (her DP curiosity working overtime) On closer inspection the loner turned out to be Emma. Mary's eyebrows shot up as she watched the Vaquera, Emma was dressed all in black and sipping a Dr. Pepper... and was quite unattended. The DP Godmommy looked around, signalling some of the other DPs to her side. "Look," She whispered as Miranda and Ren came closer. "Isn't that Emma?" Miranda peeked over at the oblivious Vaq, "But she isn't fighting with the DP." She pointed out. "She chose... poorly," Ren grinned, quoting her fav movie trilogy perfectly. "Yeah," Mary nodded, her eyes lighting up evilly. "So... what you guys think?" "About what?" Miranda frowned, then her eyebrows shot up when she caught on to the plan. "Yeah!" Soon the DP had congregated into a tight over-caffeinated huddle. "mumble, muble, muble, Emma." "mumble, mumble, potato sack." "mumble, mumble, mumble, get the car." "Kay, we're ready!" Mary straightened, "Places everyone!" Some of the Thugs headed out to warm up the car, others moved to make a line of bodies between Emma and the crowd, one snuck around and open a side door. Mary was grinning and just about to set the final parts of her hasty plan into action, when she was tapped on the shoulder. "Ack!" Tracy raised an eyebrow as she watched the college student clutch at her heart and hyper-ventilate, "Mary, you look guilty." "I look -nothing- like Nick," Mary declared, "Well, the blonde hair, but that's-" "No," Tracy smiled, "I mean, it looks like you guys are up to something, again." "Well, um, we," Mary hedged, glancing over to where the other Thugs were waiting for her signal, "Nothing really important or anything, we, uh." "Spill it," Tracy crossed her arms and waited. "We're going to kidnap Emma!" Mary blurted out, then her eyes widened, "Not forever, just a bit. You see she -is- a DP, she's just fighting as a Vaq this war, she has no taste you see and-" "Okay," Tracy snickered, "Go ahead, I'm going to go find Vachon." Her eyes took on a wicked gleam then, "I'll keep him busy while you grab Em." "Busy, how?" Mary asked, but Tracy was already out of earshot (not that she would have answered anyway.) Mary turned back and gave the signal, in less than a minute Emma was being hauled out the side door to the Pinkmobile waiting outside. Casting one more look around for witnesses, and seeing none, the DP Godmommy quickly slipped out herself. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cousin Mary ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Mon Aug 23 18:14:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J0FS-000121-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 15:59:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1632; Mon, 23 Aug 99 15:49:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7511; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 15:49:38 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 13:50:24 -0500 Reply-To: litemoon@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Prince Subject: WAR: CUZ: "I Used To Be A Vampire..." (5/6) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 43e346f2bc08c791a5ac1c6e57391ce9 WAR: CUZ: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human" (5/6) When: Friday Morning What time: between 10:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m. Where: The studios of the Jerry Tate Show Characters: Same as in post 1 and too many to keep listing :) WAR: CUZ/MERC: "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just A Plain 'Ol Human" (5/6) By: Cousin Lisa with Screedification by RatPacker Libby and input from Cousine Celeste ************************** Backstage at the Jerry Tate Show ************************** Lisa scanned the audience again. "Celeste, where are they? I figured this talk show would definitely bring them out into the open. They're supposed to be protecting the Code and we're blatantly violating it here." "Oh, don't worry, Lisa," Celeste responded. "I'm sure they'll show up -- how could they keep away? I bet you they're even here already." McLisa, who was always around at the perfect moment, added, "My cat always says, 'There's nothing quite like waking up your human then by sitting on her head.'" Lisa looked at her quizzically before saying, "Thank you, McLisa. That was very helpful." Satisfied, McLisa wandered off to continue imparting kitty-wisdom on unsuspecting victims. ******************************** Meanwhile in the basement of the studio ******************************** The members of the Enforcement faction were setting up all their equipment. They were going to make sure that no one in the audience actually believed in the topic of the show. No one, that is, besides the hundred or so faction members who knew about the vampires. Actually, at this point half of Toronto was in violation of the Code, but that's neither here nor there. They had special listening devices that allowed them to hear everything that was being said. There were Enforcers listening in on every conversation in the studio. They even had a special camera that allowed them to see through the ceiling. They'd had to move it once already. They had originally set it up directly under where the Jerry Tate Show's production assistant was standing -- you know, there really are quite a number of sights that human beings were just not meant to see. Anyway, there were all set. The taping equipment was working perfectly. "All right," Cousin Raven, the leader of the Enforcement faction, said, "let's settle in for some serious surveillance." ******************** Meanwhile back on stage ******************** Jerry asked with interest...or what passed for interest -- this guy should win an Emmy or something -- "So, tell us, what's it like being a vampire who has been turned human?" "Well, I got to stay up real late and sleep real late," Cousin Becky in Elvira-mode answered uncomfortably, "now I have to wake up and go outside and...you know...do human-like...stuff." Becky's make-up was beginning to run furiously due to the heat from the lights and she was getting more and more unhappy about her situation. Actually, she appeared to be sulking. Her lower lip was thrust out and she was staring at Celeste sullenly. But, as we all know, Cousins don't pout, so it must have been something else. Meanwhile the next guest was answering Jerry's question. "Hey, I'm rediscovering the joy of beer," replied Harvey, aka Butch the delivery guy. "And you, Screed," asked Jerry, "how do you feel?" "Now, Ol' Screed was ca-rouche type before. Immoral n' immortal. Now Oi gotta worry about the fevers an' ever'thingee an' h'all these squeakers keep 'angin' round. Now, Ol' Screed slurped them sorts when I wuz a vampy, an' they were roight nice type o' vit-eat-tles then." NatPacker James couldn't contain himself any longer. He bounced out of his seat and, not waiting to get to the microphone, asked, "But what's *wrong* with being human?" "Yeah," cried N&NPackers Chana and Angela in totally agreement. Their fellow N&NPacker Tammy remained firmly planted in her seat. "I can tell you what's wrong with it," she muttered darkly. "Loik Oi'ze wuz tellin' ya, gotta worry 'bout them germs. Na tha' Oi' dinna get the bit by the germ an' get a fever h'az a vamp, but tha' wuz a fluke-a-duke. An' Oi'm alwayz gotta be goin' ta take a whiz...." Screed paused in his description when he noticed Kenny, the rat, had climbed up on his head, and was now leaning over to look him in the eyes. Once again, Kenny let go with a very long, very wet ratsie raspberry. Screed lept to his feet, batting at Kenny. He made contact, sending Kenny right into Jerry's lap as the talkshow host yelled, "Cut to commercial...NOW!" There suddenly was chaos as all of the rats came pouring, literally, over the audience. Chana, Angela and Tammy of the N&NPackers were all attempting to climb into NatPacker James' lap for protection. Unused to this sort of attention, James was considering the possibility of N&NPacker affiliation. 'They are an awfully nice group of girls,' he thought with a wicked grin on his face. Meanwhile, Ravenette Kimberly was standing sedately on her chair calmly contemplating the rats. She was more concerned with getting her fellow Ravenette Caroline to stop exclaiming about the cuteness of rats, getting her onto a chair and making her behave more like a Ravenette should. Raven Alexander? Well...he was eyeing the moving furballs -- which promptly sent him into a Star Trek flashback. With a slight tic in his head he wondered, "Who let the tribbles out, Bones?" As Alexander attempted to keep his equilibrium while staring at the moving floor, the rats continued to stream back out of the studio -- with Kenny bringing up the rear -- their job there was done. ****************** Do you drag through the day? Need a little extra bounce in your step? Then you need to try Buffy's Best Bouncing Brew. Made from all nature ingrredients like caffeine and chocolate, Buffy's Best Bouncing Brew is just the thing you need to bring that bright, bouncin' bubbliness back into your being. ****************** Jerry was once again all smiles as the cameras began to roll again. "We've got a caller on Line One. Go ahead caller. What would you like to ask our panel?" "Hi, my name is Kim and I'd like to know if Screed still eat rats?" "H'ain't given h'it a try," Screed admitted. "The Ratpack droogs pre-fer cheesy poofs n' cheese dip-me-h'in. We went ta this fancy-loik rest-u-rant owned by some droog named Denny an' Oi h'asked fer a squeaker. Would ya be-lieve they wouldna serve h'us. May be 'irer'in' lawyer, Oi might jest." Some audience members looked decidedly grossed out at that so Jerry hurried on to the next question. Unfortunately, it wasn't much better. UFer Susan asked, "Is there a difference in taste between a gray and a white rat?" ""A squeaker h'iz a squeaker az far az most o' them goez," Screed explained. "Now iffen they've been 'angin' h'out in a dump-yar- trash roight a'fore a droog puts the slurp h'on 'em, they've got a real nice flavor-taste ta 'em. Ya know, tha' gar-bage juice 'iz the nec-tar o' the diet-ties." "Ewwww," the N&NPackers Chana, Angela and Tammy exclaimed in unison. Before Jerry could regain control, UFer Shelley stood up and asked, "Does rat really taste like chicken?" "Wot? Squeaker taste loik one o' them nasty cluckin' birds...? Wot h'are ya, daft? Chicken tastes loik ratsie!" "And on that note," Jerry sighed, "I *think* it's time for another commercial." ************************* TO BE CONCLUDED IN PART 6 ************************* Cousin Lisa aka The Original Cousinly Merc litemoon@ix.netcom.com From - Mon Aug 23 18:14:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J0da-0003sk-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 16:24:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8304; Mon, 23 Aug 99 16:21:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1808; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 16:21:19 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 13:27:53 -0700 Reply-To: "Laura K. Griffin" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Laura K. Griffin" Subject: WAR: DP: I Bid Thee Farewell 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 59744e3effa523bfbbb587ca8622b898 WAR: DP: I Bid Thee Farewell 01/01 by Laura Griffin and Shana Nolan Time: August 23, Just after midnight Place: Dark Perk Mansion "What do you think you're doing?!" Laura jumped at the sound of Shana's voice, knocking over an empty bottle of Buck Star's mocha frappucchino that had been sitting near her right hand. "Look what you made me do!! What if that had been a full bottle?" "Then you would have had a mess to clean up. Lucky for you, it was empty," Shana said. "But you didn't answer my question. What do you think you're doing?" "Uh....I was just...er..." the Dark CERK Perk tried to think of a reasonable lie, but failed. "Nothing?" Raising an eyebrow, the DP Angel shook her head; she knew something was going on and it had "Nunkies" written all over it (literally). After all, she'd been standing silently behind Laura and knew exactly what she'd been doing. "You're trying to bid on the tapestry! And you're using DP coffee to do it! Mary is *not* going to be happy about this!" "Better DP than lower grade stuff... and, do we have to tell her?" Laura asked quietly. Thinking about it for a minute and struck by the image of a coffee mug hurtling her way, she shrugged. "No. I won't tell her....BUT..." "But?" "But...you have to promise to keep your dark pink fingers out of the auction! The bidding ends tomorrow at 10pm, and you are NOT to bid on that tapestry!" The Dark Perk Angel looked sternly at her friend. "See? This is my resolve face." Laura frowned but nodded. "But... oh, okay, resolve face. No more bidding." Shana put her hands on her friend's shoulders. "Look. I know that tapestry means a lot to you, but we have to sell it. Tracy's orders, and I don't even want to think about that credit card bill waiting for us. Come on downstairs. We'll have a couple of Anne's brownies, drink a few frappuccinos, and pop a movie into the VCR. That'll get your mind of your troubles." "Can I choose the movie?" Laura asked hopefully. "Sure. Whatcha got in mind?" "Harrison Bergeron." "You got it." Shana made certain that the Vee-Bay auction page still displayed a bid that was *not* made by the Dark CERK Perk. "Anything to get your mind off of Lacroix." "Oh, um, yeah, sure." And Laura followed Shana out of the room. ***COMMERCIAL BREAK: yup, that's right, we're closing bidding and we've got some good offers... if you want a last shot at the Nunkies in Repose Tapestry, speak up now or forever hold your piece...and your peace. *** Cousin Laura -- The Dark CERK Perk http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Portal/6866/Laura.htm "Even though you're refracted, you're still you." -- 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile' From - Mon Aug 23 18:14:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J1zy-0000Ht-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 17:51:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8978; Mon, 23 Aug 99 17:49:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0271; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 17:49:08 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 14:48:30 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Transportation Device To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 443ceb717603067dc8dde873a1086d7d Knighties: Transportation Device by Chris Rosmini Late Monday night The Loft Nick and the Knighties named used by permission Too many Knighties had crammed themselves, giggling, into the warehouse elevator along with the eponymous ex-vampire for whom they had been acting as gophers and bodyguards most of the day and into the night. This had special advantages for the ones who were getting mashed up against Nick of course, but nobody wanted to wait for the next train to bed. There were other compensations, though. After their final exhaustive and exhausting search at the Museum buildings they had somehow thought might hold another clue to the current Mystery, being packed in like sardines kept them from falling down from fatigue. And disappointment. It hadn't been a totally fruitless venture, mind you. There was an exhibit of inlaid pianos from the Eighteenth Century that had Nick looking nostalgic and Beth looking covetous, a short film on medieval medical practices that had Chris fascinated and Nick looking like there were things he'd rather forget, and a closed cafeteria which had them all looking hungry. In the book shop Nick had located a monograph on early ritual healing in Mexico, which he thought might be useful, and Sandra found a reproduction of an antique pin she thought her daughter might like (Nick said it was a very accurate copy). Which just goes to show that a Museum is a very interesting place; especially if you are 800 years old. Of course nobody found anything that looked anything like the amulet although when they passed the cafeteria on the way out there was a big bowl of candies covered with glittery metallic wrappers and a sign that said "Take One" and everybody did. *I don't remember seeing that before* Roz thought in passing, and took two. But nobody was thinking much about cubes or amulets or other doodads, only getting back to Adriana's big van that held eight comfortably or all of them in a pinch and getting back to the Loft. At any rate, there they all were, thinking blissfully of bed, or food first then bed as were their natures, when Nick finally slid the door open and came about as close to using a naughty word as they would ever see him. "Bloody Hell" said Roz who hadn't been as gently reared as Nick; for there in the middle of the Loft, gleaming in the lamplight with the shine of a much loved car, stood the Caddy. "Kind of smallers up the room" she said, mindful of a contractor friend with a colorful vocabulary. And it really did. It's a big room, the loft, but fitting in a 1962 Cadillac had meant shoving all the original furnishings, the piano, the couch, the big rolling paint table and Nick's easel to the sides of the room where they huddled along with all the extra chairs and rolled up rugs. Sleeping bags and other belongings were piled everywhere on top of and under the rest. It did seem pretty clear that no one was getting to bed right away. Eeeeeeeeeeooooww!!! wailed Gemsong who slid down the wall to the floor of the elevator and buried her face in her hands. Everybody else agreed that just about covered it. Screaming aside, things were pretty calm; it's not like the loft hasn't been attacked before. Liz ran to check over the precious car, Nick walked around it admiring the polish and the detailing, Roz stalked to the hidden microphone next to the sink and yelled NANCY!!! They could all hear the sudden crashing sounds from the radio shack on the roof, and Jenn and Katrinka headed for the stairs at a run, taking them two at a time in their concern for the Knightie 2IC who had been monitoring the security system while they were out. "If those slackers have hurt her..." Zoe said, and Nick looked up in surprise. "What makes you think it was the Vaqueras?" he asked, "This took a lot of hard work and careful planning and they don't usually ..." he broke off as several of them pointed at the bumper sticker. "Start Seeing Motorcycles?" he read, glancing over at his own Norton, relieved to see it sitting safely on it's tarp. "Whatever that m..." He stopped again as a disheveled Nancy stumbled down the stairs, trying to process a Cadillac in the living room with her sleep-fuddled brain. "How'd _that_ get up here?" she asked, and then voiced the awful question that was slowly materializing in every body else's minds, "How is it going to get out?" "They must have taken it completely apart and reassembled it" Liz said, "and they seem to have done an excellent job. No loose seams, no dirty fingerprints. Just look at that detailing!" she said with outright admiration, "I didn't know they had it in them." "Well, maybe we can send it to them for it's regular servicing." Eowyn said sarcastically, then turned to Nancy. "Just how did they happen to have the time to accomplish all this without somebody noticing it?" Their would-be-watchdog briefly considered crawling off under the car and waiting for the street sweeper to take her away, then hung her head and abjectly mumbled something in which the words "sleepy", "late night", "videotape" and "sorry" were audible. "Look, let's not worry about who's fault this is." said Nick (an astonishing enough statement considering the source), "We have the tapes from the security cameras, we're all tired, what we need to do is get the car out of here so we can all go to bed." He gave Nancy a reassuring pat on the shoulder and smiled genially at everyone. "And just how are we supposed to _do_ that?" Chris snapped, as tempers were getting a bit frayed all around, "Roll it over to the window and push it out? It'll take us all _night_ to disassemble this thing and haul it downstairs!" "And we won't have to do that. Nick said evenly. Thinking *They never talked to me this way when I was a vampire.*, he said "We'll take it down in the freight elevator. Can you give me a hand here?" and he busied himself moving sleeping bags onto the piano. Several pairs of Knightie eyes swiveled to look at the box they had just come out of then back at the car, and a small voice said "I don't think it will fit, Nick. It barely fits in here." Beth, who was helping Nick move stuff onto the piano, as protective of it as Liz was of the Caddy, said "No he means the _freight_ elevator, that big one over on the other side of the building. You could fit a boxcar into it, the Caddy wouldn't be a problem." Nick walked over and unlatched those folding doors behind the kitchen that everyone has always wondered what was behind, and swung them open revealing a sizeable rectangular storage area with a garage-type door on the other side. He pushed a button that opened this in turn, and they were staring out into the cavernous reaches of the warehouse itself, where dimly lit piles of boxes made dark islands on the expanse of concrete floor. "Cool!", "Spooky.", and "OK, Cool and spooky." was the general reaction. But it would be possible, even easy, to drive a car through there. Once you had moved all the stuff stored in the storage area of course, and made room to maneuver the car into it; which since there was already stuff in the places they needed to move stuff into was like one of those puzzles where you slide little plastic chicklets around in a box. By the time they were done most of the knighties were swaying with exhaustion and beginning to face the fact that once the Caddy was gone a lot of the stuff would have to be moved back if they were going to sleep there. Nick finally judged that there was enough room to swing a Caddy, ordered the windows opened, and the ventilation system turned full, on and everybody out of the main room and into the stairwell. They took exception to that of course, being disinclined to move at all, much less climb stairs; but he insisted. Arguing that they didn't know whether the car had been booby trapped and if the Loft was going to be bombarded with paint bombs or sprayed with itching powder, he didn't want them in it when it happened. After all there were only two bathrooms. There were a few mutters of "We're big girls, you know", quickly squelched by a "Brook no Argument" look Nick had learned from a Master, and then they trooped into the concrete enclosure and waited a little anxiously while he turned the key. Nothing happened except the engine roared smoothly to life, and after some backing and filling (one minor scrape), and a scrambling of knighties to climb into it, the huge car glided majestically into the darkness trailed by the rest of the gang. Navigating between the islands of Nick's accumulated artifacts with ease, the Foot Followers humming "I Love a Parade" and Sue waving from the back seat as grandly as any Rose Queen, the Caddy was finally tucked safely into the big elevator. "I think we really should do something equally nice for the Vaqs" Katrinka said, waving adieu as the Caddy (and Roz and Jenn who had gone along for the ride) disappeared from view. "Something to cheer their place up a little?" Stephers said hopefully. ******************************************** Somewhat later the usual elevator opened and disgorged a tired Nick and a rather dripping wet Jenn and Roz. "Is it raining?" Nancy asked, thinking it was a good thing they got that skylight fixed in time. "No!" Roz said grimly and strode off towards the downstairs loo. "They got out to open the door and the exhaust fumes set off the fire sprinklers." Nick explained as he helped Jenn out of her sodden sweater. "You put it back in the Garage?" Liz called, and he answered. "No, it's outside on the loading dock. It'll be fine there for the next few hours." And it was, and it wasn't. Finis Chris Rosmini (aka "Roz") chrismin@earthlink.net Knightie Co-leader From - Mon Aug 23 18:18:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J2Nr-0001PY-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 18:16:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9190; Mon, 23 Aug 99 18:13:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3794; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 18:13:38 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 15:15:25 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs:--The V-Team To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 072c2d8c7694b76583637d71fb0c7722 22 Aug 1999 A shopping centre, The DP Mansion Toronto, ON 9:00 am Disclaimer: The DP Mansion is used curtesy of Mary, Shana, and the rest of the Thugs. Thanks! 'The V-Team' filk by my Vaq Amiga Melissa. We don't own 'The A-Team', don't sue! The V-Team By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia In 1999, a group of slackers was forced into action/retaliation by the kidnapping of one of their own. These women and men promptly snuck out of the place they called home while the VaqMom wasn't looking. Today, still in fear of her whifflebat o'doom, they sneak around Toronto the Good. If you have a mission, if your own faction can't help, and if you can stand their singing, maybe you can hire. . . The V-Team. The Vaqs were jogging to the Mansion when they passed a shopping centre. "Halt," the Vaq Adj cried. "We are gonna need supplies." She quickly gave her orders and deployed the troops. Melissa, Cliff, Echo, and Becky went to the grocery store. Stephanie, Tammy, Tabitha, and Sarah headed for the department store. Nafs, Imajiru, JoAnne, and Scott went for (yet another) toy store. Donna, Erica, Laplor, and Rae headed for the gourmet shop. Vachon just stood around and blinked a lot. Felicia and Teresita ventured into a card store. "What are we doing in here," Vaq Twin 1 (and Scribe #1) asked. "My friend has a birthday coming. I thought I would find her a card while we have a moment." The two headed down the aisles when a brightly colored card caught Felicia's eye. On a red background, there was a drawing of a cow wearing a blindfold and a gag. The bovine was tied to a straight-backed chair and a bright light was shining in its face. Felicia picked up the card and said, "Twinner, look at this!" Above the cow, the card read: Sorry to hear about your fellow Vaq's cownapping. The inside caption read: Hope you're able to re-mooooooo-ve them from their pen soon! Teresita pointed to a sign that hung above the card display. "Maybe that it explains it," she said. The sign proclaimed: August is Kidnap a Vaq Month. "I guess they really do make a card for every occasion." Felicia shook her head. "Our reputation has preceeded us. . .again. C'mon, let's go check on the others." The Vaq Wonder Twins quickly exited. The rest of the Troops were back with the requested supplies. The Vaq Adj gave the command, and they moved out. As the approached the Mansion, they spread out to look for signs of the DPs. "I don't see any of their cars," Melissa said. "Wonder where they've gone off to," Laplor mused. "Perhaps another Buckstar's run," Teresita said. They cautiously crept up to the door. "How'll we get in," Tabs asked. Felicia dangled her keyring. "DP, remember." Vachon took in her dark pink t-shirt. "How could we forget?" She cut him a look. "Okay, a few things I should mention for those of you who haven't been here before. Watch out for the demons." Tammy made a face. "The demons? What the he. . ." Vachon cut her off. "Trust me, ya don't want to know. "They're pink, of course, and they run off with things that are left laying around." "So *that's* why Tracy is so neat," Imajiru said. "Err, something like that." Felicia opened the door and whispered, "Okay y'all, come in, and beware of traps." The Vaqs walked in slowly and looked around. "Wow, this place is amazing," Stephanie breathed. "It's huge. How will we ever find Emma," Donna asked. "We'll split up and go room to room," Felicia said. "Oh, no! I'm not getting lost in here. You and Vachon are the only ones who have been here before, and we'll be blind without you," Echo stated. Felicia and Vachon exchanged looks. He nodded. "Okay, then. Stay close." They began moving down the hall. Passing *the* mirror, Felicia pointed, "That's the one I was telling y'all about." "Does it really look into Nunkies' bedroom?" Rae looked to be on the verge of another meltdown. Teresita sighed. "Focus, Rae, focus!" She carefully removed the mirror, setting it carefully on the floor. "Who's got the replacement?" Tammy handed over an exact duplicate. Teresita hung it and stepped back. "Okay! Echo?" The OID stepped up. "Stencil!" Becky handed over the calla lily stencil." Echo placed it on the mirror. "Tape!" Melissa taped the stencil in place. "Blade!" Nafs handed a small straight razor over. Cliff grinned evily. "Do your worst, err, your best, Echo." The assembled group watched as Echo etched a lovely lily design on the mirror. "What'll we do with the real one?" Felicia looked around briefly. "Here, I'll put it in this closet." She carefully picked it up and slipped in. "What's next," Sarah asked. "Follow me," Vachon said. He led the way to Mary's room. "Here, guys!" He quickly jimmied the lock and the door swung open. "What have you got for this room? Scott laughed. "Oh, nothing much," he said slyly. He and JoAnne moved into the room. "Just give us five minutes." Teresita turned to the Vaq Adj. "Well?" Felicia nodded. "Okay, we're gonna check out the kitchen." "Okay, we'll come meet y'all when we're finished in here." The Vaqs sans Scott and JoAnne continued on to the kitchen. On the counter sat five coffee urns, gleaming in the early day sun. "Oh, my! *Five* urns! Why would they ever go to Buckstar's?" Felicia shrugged. "They make a mean iced mocha." "Okay," Melissa said, "where do they keep the coffee?" "That cupboard, third shelf, between the coca and the cookies." Vachon let out a snort. "Should've known!" Felicia turned and grinned. "You know you love it," she said. He smiled faintly and blinked. Rae skipped over and opened the cupboard door. "Geez, there is sooooo much! Well, looks like you were right, VA! I thought ten bags was excessive!" "Ten?!" The Vaq Adj sighed. "Yes, ten. Alright, now. Move those bags. Put them, oh, next to the Jell-o . They'll look forever. Put *our* bags in the correct spot." Rae placed the decaffeinated coffee, which was in regular blend bags, in the proper place on the shelf. "Good enough," Becky said triumphantly. Scott and JoAnne walked in, giggling. "Hi, *peeep*le! We're done!" The two laughed. Vachon looked at Felicia. "What did they do in there," he asked. Before she could respond, Scott said, "You're not getting a *peep* out of us!" They errupted into more giggles. "I take it that everything is in order," Felicia said. "Oh, is it ever! Hope Mary looks in her *peep* hole before she opens the door!" Teresita turned to Scott and JoAnne. "How many of those things did you use?" "I lost count after the first one hundred packages." "Wow." "C'mon, y'all! Let's go and find Emma. My money says that she's in the basement. They found the stairway and went down slowly and carefully. "Ack! What is that," Tabithat screamed. "Demon," Felicia and Vachon said flatly. "This place is weird. It's dark down here." Felicia pulled out her pink flashlight and flipped it on. "Emma? Em, you down here," she called softly. From the corner came a muffled sound. "Emma?" The group rushed in the general direction. The Vaq Adj flashed her beam of light, and there in the corner was Emma. She was tied to a chair and wore a blindfold and a gag. "It's just like that card," Teresita said. Several puzzeled looks greeted her. "Oh," she said, it's nothing. Quick, untie her." The Vaqs struggled with the rope. Felicia whipped out her butterfly knife and cut the knots, freeing Emma. "What's the matter, Kenpo Queen," Scott kidded, "ya left your really big knife at home?" "Kitana, Scott, it's called a kitana. Well, I thought it would be a bit much for cutting rope. It would come in useful if we ever had an inter-series war with those other fans, though." "Those other fans?" "You know, the ones who watch that show where the people run around cutting off heads with swords." "Ah." Emma sighed. "Thanks, guys. I can't believe they left me! I could use a good cappuchino." Vachon smiled. "Let's get outta here, guys. I'm not anxious for a run-in with the Thugs." Teresita gave him a sly grin. "So sure about that, Javier? Maybe not even one tall, thin, blonde Thug with blue eyes who works as a cop?" He blushed. "Let's just go." "We'll follow you," Cliff said. The troops followed their leader up the stairs and they quickly exited the Mansion. "Hey," Emma began, "where's Tracy Sue?" The Vaqs looked guilty. Felicia said, "Y'all, let's go get her and get back to *our* Church. I'm soooo ready to get home. With that, the Vaqs headed off toward the Jeweled Peach to collect their VaqMadre. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2, Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!) Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 23 18:39:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J2gR-0002Cu-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 18:35:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2840; Mon, 23 Aug 99 18:32:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5484; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 18:32:58 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 18:33:25 EDT Reply-To: Libratsie@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: RP: To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 18292422b44383ee282fd408c9183ec8 THE SCREED AND NAT FORNEVER NIGHT (01/01) TIME: Sometime Monday afternoon, August 23. By Libby Singleton DISCLAIMER: Everyone used with everyone's permission. Dr. Natalie Lambert abused with the Natpack's insistence .... uhr, permission. "AAACCCHOOOO!" "Bless ya me child, fer ya 'ave sneezed," Libs said. "Uhr... Screed, why do ya got tha' weird lewk h'on ya mug?" "Be-cuz Oi sneezed an' wheezed!" Screed exclaimed, panicked. "Could be sum sort o' terry-ble di- sease!" "H'or allergies," Johnsie pointed out. "Libs kin tell ya h'all 'bout those." "Johnsie speaketh the truth o' the matter," Libby agreed. "Oi'm lar-thar-gic ta h'ever thing. Molds. Fun- gas. John-Lennon. Fuzzy h'ani-mauls...." "The squeakers!" Screed interrupted. "Could be the squeakers! Ol' Screed needs a doc!... 'Ey, wot about tha' pretty missy o' Knighty-Knight's? She must be a bit lonely-loik seein' 'as the war's 'alf o'er an' Oi've yet ta drop h'in fer a howdy n' kissy-the-lips! Oi don't feel so gewd. H'ain't long fer the livin' so's we best make h'it fast." More to shut Screed's whining up than to appease his worries, the Ratpack trekked through the tunnel to one directly below a morgue. They weren't ones to really enjoy morgues despite the abundance of shiny pretty metallic shelves and beds and such. Morgues were just so ... depressing. Given a choice, the Ratpack much preferred to pay their regards at funeral homes and cemeteries where there were free flowers ripe for the picking. But Dr. Natalie Lambert didn't work at a funeral home or a cemetery, she worked at a morgue. When they reached the tunnel entrance, they decided wisely to hoist Screed up through it first. After all, startle the good doc too badly, and she might throw a scalpel - or even worse, give them a shot. "'Ey there, me Natsie Ratsie! Wanna .... EEEOOOOWWWW! Ya dinna 'afta try ta shut the door on me noggin!" Screed cried. "Then in or out," Natalie growled. "You're letting in rats." "An' the Ratpack!" Johnsie squealed, jumping up into the morgue with the rest of Screed's followers. "Okay, what do you guys want?" Natalie said. "I'm very busy right now and don't have any cheesy poofs." "Screed's got h'a dold h'in 'is dose," Libs explained, pulling Barnabas up out of the tunnel. "Ya gotta fix 'im." Natalie crossed her arms and smiled. "Oh, I'd like to fix him okay. If he's mortal, it might just work this time." Screed quickly used his hands to cover his privates. Barnabas, who'd long ago experienced being fixed, rolled over on his back and displayed the results. Johnsie crossed his legs as well. "Wot we 'ave 'ere h'is a fail-ure ta commune-wit'-h'a-cake. We want h'is cold fixed." "Well, hop up on the vacant table then," Nat said, retrieving various medical tools from her desk. "Screed, go ahead and take off your coat and shirt.... SCREED, I SAID YOUR SHIRT! For all that is decent, leave your pants on!" Screed obeyed, but sniffed loudly. "Ya h'ain't no fun." "Ummmm," Natalie muttered neutrally. She started the examination, looking into Screed's sinuses, eyes and ears, then listened to his chest. "You do seem to have a mild infection. Normally I'd suggest waiting and seeing if your body can fight it off without help, but being newly mortal, I don't want to take any chances. Are you allergic to anything?" "Squeakers, maybe," Screed said, brushing one roughly off the table. "Any meds, Screed, MEDICATIONS." "'E's allergic-loik ta Penny-sellin'," Libs said quickly. Natalie looked surprised. "Penicillin's a recent development. At least when you are talking about a 450 year old former vampire. Has he had any since reverting to mortality?" "Uhr, no," Michele said. "But he's h'alleric h'all roight. Said so h'in FEVER, so h'it must be so." Natalie rolled her eyes. "Don't believe everything you hear on television. Remember the Battle of Hastings fiasco? Still, don't want to take chances. My personal doctor gave me some samples of a new antibiotic. I ended up with a prescription, so I'll pass the samples on to you. Just read the information carefully... Screed, what's wrong?" "Ya dinna try leeches or nuthin'," he replied, genuinely hurt. Jumping off the table, he threw his arms around Natalie's shoulders. "H'ain't ya h'at least gonna kiss me an' make h'it h'all better...." "Screed, I'm warning you one time. Get. Your. Arm. Off. Me." "Cooo! Listen ta tha', Johnsie! She's quiet the feisty we....." WHACK! Natalie didn't normally believe in physical violence. However, there was a time and place for everything. Her punch sent Screed head over heels right into the tunnel. She really didn't harbor any ill will to the Ratpack under normal circumstances. If anything, they were mischievously charming in normal circumstances. These were not normal circumstances by any definition. A warning glance in their direction, and the Ratpack jumped en masse back into their tunnel, unfortunately without some of the rats. Natalie started to shut the tunnel's entrance when she heard Marissa cry, "Wot about Screed's clothin'? I donna wanna lewk h'at 'is skinny bare chest innymore than ya do! Oh, the in-hu-man-ity!" Natalie grabbed Screed's clothes, then as an afterthought the medicine samples out of her purse, then tossed them all down into the tunnel. She quickly shut the entrance, and mustering all her strength, pushed her heaviest file cabinet over it. "I've got to call the exterminator," she said to herself looking around at all the remaining rats. "I wonder if any of them offer a Ratpack free guarantee?" -END- LibRatsie@aol.com From - Mon Aug 23 18:44:43 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J2kV-0002Kf-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 18:39:32 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9365; Mon, 23 Aug 99 18:37:15 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6086; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 18:37:15 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 18:38:50 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Libby Singleton Subject: War: OOPS, unlabeled post X-To: fkwar10leaders@egroups.com, fkwar10leaders@onelist.com To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fe4424e777d6d34f4efd40e1d237c7b3 I just dropped a War story and got the War: RP: header, but filed to put the story's title: THE SCREED AND NAT FORNEVER NIGHT (01/01) Sorry about any Knightmares this title may cause. --Libs From - Mon Aug 23 19:33:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J3BI-0000ae-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 19:07:12 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1867; Mon, 23 Aug 99 19:05:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8450; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 19:05:03 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:06:58 GMT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Mildred G. Cady" Subject: WAR: Could the Harem and contact me? To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f42c694c85b493dc93a7877176c6c266 I realize that your leader, Amy, is in Texas and with the hurricane and all, she hasn't been on. So I need someone in the Harem to contact me, about a job I'm doing. ~Mildred G. Cady~ Merc Mommy General and Computer Genius _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Mon Aug 23 20:24:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J4JZ-0003Yb-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:19:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9921; Mon, 23 Aug 99 20:17:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3648; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:17:36 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 19:15:13 -0500 Reply-To: eowyn3@JUNO.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Terri Wadsworth Subject: War: Knighties: Chasing the Birthday Blues Away 1/2 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e9b5d068896570f8033a5168facf3592 War: Knighties: Chasing the Birthday Blues Away 1/2 by Eowyn and Katrinka Time: Friday (August 20) afternoon and evening Place: The Loft All Knighties used with permission. Once again Gemsong looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. It was Friday around noon and her birthday was less than 24 hours away. She wandered around the Loft not finding anything to do that appealed to her. Nick noticed Gem's dejected mood. He quietly rounded up some Knighties and whispered something to them. A few seconds later, Mindy, Gemsong's new friend, came over with the Knighties that Nick had been whispering to. She took Gem's hand firmly and commanded her, "Come on Gem, we're going to show you the sights of Toronto!" Not knowing what else to do with herself, she reluctantly allowed Mindy to lead her toward the door but her heart wasn't really into sightseeing. "But what about the rats?" asked Eowyn. "Rats, what rats? What are you talking about?" Mindy answered the question with a question. "The ones that are rumored to be taking over the city and that we're obliged to mention in this war," replied Eowyn. "Oh, those rats! So far they've only infested some of the other FK faction HQs so I'm sure we'll be safe enough in public places," Nancy reassured the group. The group surrounded Gemsong and she had no choice but to go with them. They headed out the door, one thought foremost on their minds. They weren't returning to the Loft until they had made sure Gemsong had seen all the best tourist spots in Toronto, which, according to Nick, would be long enough for him to accomplish another task. As soon as the sight-seeing group had left, Nick called some of the other Knighties, who seemed to be doing nothing in particular, together. He began scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. When he finished writing he looked up at the assembled group. "Would you do me a favor?" he asked them. "Yes." "Sure." "Of course." "Anything." A chorus of voices rang with enthusiasm for doing their favorite ex-vampire a favor. "I need you to go shopping and pick up these things. I want to surprise Gemsong with a birthday party tonight. Think you can find all this stuff?" He handed the list and his platinum credit card to Roz. "Sure Nick. No problem." "Why don't you come with us? It'd be a chance to walk in the sun for a change," Roz tempted him. He rubbed his temples with his fingers. "I'd like to but I have a little headache." His face had a quizzical look as if he was having trouble remembering something...like the last 14 hours. The last thing he remembered was dancing with Gemsong and Mindy at the Harem party the night before. The assembled Knighties gave knowing looks to each other that silently indicated some of them had "been there, done that." The second group of Knighties left the Loft, intent on their mission. Nick smiled to himself. His plans were going well so far. Katrinka, who had been busy in the kitchen, walked over to Nick. "What are you planning, Nick? Can I help?" she asked. "As a matter of fact you can, Katrinka. Can you bake a birthday cake for tonight?" "For tonight? Nick Knight, I've already spent nearly the entire day in the kitchen and I'd have to start a birthday cake right now. I'll be in the kitchen the rest of the day!" "You've done a wonderful job feeding the rest of the Knighties and me this week. I *know* I like eating now, especially your cooking!" Nick smiled at her. Planting a small kiss on the tired-looking Knightie's forehead, he whispered, "Please, for Gemsong and me?" Nick Knight was the most persuasive man she knew. Katrinka looked up into sky-blue eyes, saw that melt-you-into-a-puddle grin and whispered back, "Oh all right. I'll do it." A birthday party. Katrinka could handle a birthday party. She busied herself putting the ingredients into the automatic ice cream makers she had rented. All a person had to do was put the ingredents in, and turn it on. No need for ice or anything. She decided that she had to bring one of those back to Oklahoma with her. "Thirty isn't old. It's young!" Katrinka heard Nick Knight say as he talked to Adriana. "Perhaps to someone who has lived hunderds of years it is, but to Gem it's old!" Adriana pointed out. "You know, when I was a boy, girls got married at 12, and were considered old at 35." Nick mused. "You better not tell her that!" They walked past the kitchen. Several moments later, Nick came back. "Yes?" Katrinka didn't look at him. Nick grabbed a spoon and opened an ice cream maker. He tasted the thickening goo. "This is good. What is it?" "It will be ice cream when it's finished." Katrinka took the lid from him, and put it back on. "It needs time. So leave it alone!" "I'm curious, that's all. Can I have some when it's done?" "Nope, it's being saved." "It's my loft." He tried to reason with her. "You used my platinum card to rent the machines. I deserve to have at least a gallon of ice cream." "Nick! It's for Gem's birthday party!" Nick got an almost wicked grin. "So you're making ice cream for Gemsong's party too." "Yes, I am! You can't have cake without ice cream." "So that mean's I get some." "Yes, it does." "I want to help!" he grabbed an apron and put it on. "Nick, if you help, you must listen to me!" Katrinka said firmly. "Don't I always?" he asked innocently. "No! You don't! Just look at what happened with the cookies!" Nick touched her shoulder and smiled. "I will do what you tell me to." "So, what kind of cake are we making?" Nick asked as Katrinka began to pour water into the steamer. "Chocolate." Katrinka put the steamer on the oven. "Chocolate? Nothing exotic?" Nick seemed to be disappointed. "Have you ever had chocolate cake before?" she asked him. "Well, no." "Grandma Purceli's Death By Chocolate cake is to die for." When Nick blanched, Katrinka quickly said. "It's only a figure of speech!" "I'm a little sensitive about death." "I am too. That's why I got out of nursing." Katrinka got out a bowl. "So now you're a teacher." Nick picked up the recipe and began to read it. "Well, for now." "Do you like teaching?" "It's what I've always wanted to do. I will probably get fired once the school board finds out about my arrest." "Why would that happen?" "State law of Oklahoma. A teacher loses her certificate if she is arrested on a felony charge. I was, so I guess it's back to nursing." "It's not a conviction, simply an arrest!" "An arrest is what can get you fired. They don't care if your convicted." Katrinka got down the cocoa and coconut. "I really didn't want to go back to nursing. But those are the breaks." "Why don't you get the ingredients ready?" Nick patted her shoulder. "I need to make a phone call." "Sure Nick." Katrinka felt a tad guilty for pouring her woes out on Nick. He had enough problems learning to cope with being human again. **************** Nick was surprisingly well behaved as they made the cake. He didn't mention the arrest once. Instead he worked hard in making the cake 'just so', helping Katrinka put in the ingredients and putting the cakes into the steamers. As Katrinka checked one of the cakes, Nick said. "There's something I always wanted to give you!" "What's that?" She turned towards him. He threw a handful of flour at her. Then started laughing as the Knightie's hair turned white. //This is War!// The cook decided. Katrinka got a package of sugar out of the cupboard. She opened it, and threw a handful of sugar at him. In response Nick threw two handfuls of flour. Katrinka got a mug and threw a cup of sugar at him. The flour and sugar flew fast and furious. Hearing the noise, Zoe stumbled into the kitchen, and was greeted by Nick dumping flour on top of her head. Zoe grabbed a large package of instant oatmeal and began to throw handfuls at Nick. Katrinka nodded at Zoe and they began to pelt Nick as hard as they could. Then Nick ran out of flour. He spread his arms. "You won." Katrinka and Zoe threw the rest of the oats and sugar at him. Zoe smirked. "Yep, we won all right!" Nick hugged both woman. "You guys make me glad to be alive." The Knightes hugged back. "I'm just glad we were here to see it!" Just then the second group of Knighties returned. They were carrying bags and bags of party gear. Roz stopped short at the sight that greeted her. "Ooof." "Sorry." "Hey, those were my toes." "Watch out." Knighties plowed into and over each other in an effort to keep from running over their Co-Leader who was oblivious to the mayhem she had just caused behind her. Hats, noise-makers, rolls of streamers, hundreds of balloons and other party gear tumbled out of the bags. Knighties now lounging on the floor in various poses froze also. Standing before them were three white ghosts. Upon closer inspection, the Knightie Co-Leader, who was miraculously still standing, realized she was staring at Nick, Katrinka, and Zoe. "OH MY GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Eowyn thundered as she got to her knees. "WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED? DID ZOE BLOW SOMETHING UP AGAIN?" Other Knighties, who had been taking naps during the flour fight, awoke. They stared at the mess in amazement. "What happened? Why do you three look like ghosts?" Roz asked with an edge to her voice. "Um, we had an accident with the flour we were using to make the birthday cake for tonight?" Katrinka answered her unconvincingly. "Why do I get the feeling this wasn't an accident?" Roz sighed. She wasn't convinced by the innocent looks on their faces. "I didn't do it. I wasn't the one cooking!" Zoe insisted. "Hummm, I let the flour fly away?" Nick put on his winning smile. He walked over to Eowyn, helped her to her feet and gave her an oaty/sugary hug. "All right, who ever made this mess has to clean it up!" Roz ordered. "Eowyn, why don't you entertain Nick while Katrinka and Zoe clean? Then when they are done, they can pack their bags!" "Pack our bags?" Zoe yelped. "Did you really think that you could stay in the loft when you have no regard for it? You attacked Nick and threw sugar and oats all over him! That's no way for Knighties to act!" Roz tried hard to control her anger. "The two of you are out of this faction! As soon as you've cleaned the mess, go!" Zoe burst into tears. Katrinka patted her shoulder. Then she got a broom and began to sweep up the flour/sugar/oats mess. Tears poured down the cook's face. Katrinka didn't look at Nick. After bailing her out of jail once she didn't expect him to speak up now. Her career was over. She was out of the faction. What was left? Nick went over to Katrinka. He took the broom out of her hands. Then he began to sweep. "Nick! What are you doing?" Roz demanded. "I am helping to clean." "I know this is your loft, but the two of them need to take responsibility for their actions!" Eowyn told him. "That means cleaning up their own mess!" "It's okay, I will help clean. Then I will pack my bags." Nick said. "You're leaving the loft?" "Nick, don't leave." Katrinka begged. "We deserved our punishment. But this is your home. You should stay!" Nick reached out, touching Katrinka's shoulder. "I started this fight. If anyone needs to have a punishment, it's me for getting you in trouble." "Wait a second!" Roz said. "You started the fight?" "Yes, I did." Nick admitted. "The only reason they threw things at me was because they were defending themselves. Katrinka was sad, I thought a good old fashioned food fight might cheer her up." Roz closed her eyes for a moment as she thought. Then unexpectedly she smiled. She walked over to Zoe and hugged her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper." "Am I out of the faction?" Zoe asked in a small voice. "Of course you're not!" Nick said firmly. "No matter. We have a party to decorate for. Katrinka, you and Zoe finish cleaning up and get back to the cake. Uh, Nick, maybe you'd better go clean yourself up and then come help us. The rest of you, start decorating." "But why does Nick get to clean himself up and I don't," wailed Katrinka. "Because he's the main character," replied Roz matter-of-factly. "Oh, all right." Katrinka humphed back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on one of her most splendid creations. End Pt. 1 ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Mon Aug 23 20:24:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J4Je-0003Yk-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:19:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2260; Mon, 23 Aug 99 20:17:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3662; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:17:38 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 19:09:08 -0500 Reply-To: eowyn3@JUNO.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Terri Wadsworth Subject: War: Knighties: Chasing the Birthday Blues Away 2/2 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: eb599dfe11ae470108456ba282f473df War: Knighties: Chasing the Birthday Blues Away 2/2 by Eowyn and Katrinka Time: Friday (August 20) afternoon and evening Place: The Loft All Knighties used with permission. Even later... The buzzer on the door sounded twice. It was the signal that the group had returned with Gemsong. Stephanie had been stationed downstairs as the lookout for the returning sightseers. "Shhhhh, I hear them coming." "Everyone, look natural." There weren't enough good hiding places to accommodate the Knighties so they had decided to arrange themselves as if it was just an ordinary day which of course made them look very unordinary. The group stepped out of the elevator. Mindy and the others made sure that Gemsong was the first one into the room. "SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" It came from behind and in front of Gemsong creating a Knighties in stereo effect. Gemsong stood there rooted to the spot and speechless. Nick walked up to her, took her hand, kissed the back of it and said, "Happy Birthday, Gemsong." Eowyn handed her a neatly folded pile of clothes. "You'll need to put these on." Gem returned to reality from the trance-like state that the Knighties in stereo SURPRISE had put her in and looked around. She realized that everyone including Nick was dressed in black silk pajamas. She headed for the downstairs bathroom while the other sightseers hurried to other parts of the loft to put their pjs on too. Gem felt ready to party as soon as she had changed. "This is your party. What do you want to do first?" Nick asked her when she had rejoined the Knighties. "We can watch a movie, have cake and ice cream, open presents, or play a game." Gem looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'd like to watch 'Ladyhawke." "Ladyhawke it is." Nick found the requested tape and popped it into the VCR. The lively strains of the opening theme filled the loft. Knighties lounged, sat, and draped themselves around and on the furniture in as many different comfy positions as there were Knighties. They left the couch to Nick and Gemsong, who was given a coveted seat next to the handsome ex-vampire. Katrinka brought in several large bowls of popcorn. She set one in front of the couple on the couch and the other amid the Knighties on the floor. Midway through the movie, Gem glanced at Nick. She was surprised to see a melancholy expression on his face. Sure the movie was sad in places but not that sad. "What's wrong? Don't you like the movie?" she whispered in Nick's ear. "Nothing's wrong. Of course I like the movie," he whispered back. He couldn't tell her the real reason for his sadness. The movie reminded him of the centuries he had spent fighting the same despair that threatened to overwhelm the main character in the movie; the same fight to keep the hope alive that one day he would conquer the beast inside him and be able to be with the one true love of his life. It seemed to good to be true that his dream might have finally come true. He was mortal. But for how long? Many of those who had been transformed with him were enamored of the "gifts" that being a vampire had bestowed on them. They would stop at nothing to have those "gifts" again. And there was at least one ex-vampire who would go further than that to make sure Nick's "gifts" were returned also. "This is a party. Snap out of it. Don't ruin Gem's birthday," he told himself. He put his arm around Gem shoulders, gave her a little squeeze and smiled at her. "Let's watch the rest of the movie, shall we?" Gem nodded and turned her attention back to the two lovers on the screen. She worried a little that the movie she had chosen was hitting too close to home for Nick. After the tissues had been passed out during the final reunion between Nevar and Isobo and the Knighties had dried their eyes, Nick announced it was time for cake and ice cream. Katrinka wheeled in a cart piled high with paper plates, forks, napkins, two drums of home-made ice cream, and a scrumptious looking cake. The cake was covered in dark chocolate gloss icing, with red and white piping. There were red and pink roses on it. The handwriting in red piping was Nick's and it said "Happy Birthday Gem!" Three glowing candles were stuck in the cake near the edge. Nick walked over to the grand piano and began playing a familiar tune. His resonant voice enthralled the Knighties as he began to sing, "Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, Dear Gemsong. Happy Birthday to you." The Knighties recovered their voices and joined Nick for another chorus. "Make a wish and blow out the candles," came the traditional command from Nancy. Gem closed her eyes, thought a moment and blew lightly on the candles. Her look of triumph turned to puzzlement as the candles burst back into flame. Gem tried again, blowing harder this time. The candles seemed to go out but once again were burning a second later. Roz looked at Katrinka. "Don't look at me. It was Nick's idea." Katrinka, Roz, Gem and the rest of the Knighties turned to look at Nick. "I thought the candles would be fun. And...they were. Don't worry. All you have to do is dip them in water and they'll go out." Katrinka handed a cake knife to Gem, pulled the still flickering candles out of the cake and took them to the kitchen. Nick followed her. "I need you to come with me for a few minutes." Katrinka let Nick drag her upstairs into his bedroom. She was surprised to see that the rest of Nick's Six, with the exception of Gemsong were there. "What's up?" Adriana asked. "Yeah, why did you call us away from the party?" Mindy asked. "We're missing the cake and ice cream. And they're my favorite flavor," Zoe told him. "Don't worry, there's plenty of cake and ice cream. I told the others they'd better save you some." He looked the women over. "I expect you want to know why you're here." "Yes, we would." Stephers crossed her arms. "Earlier today, I helped Katrinka make the birthday cake." When he heard groans from the Knighties he said. "I worked very hard to do exactly what she said." "Is that true?" "Yes, it's true." Katrinka told them. "He was a wonderful helper." "Katrinka was very upset. It seems she would be fired as a teacher if she has an arrest on her record." Nick explained. Mindy grew pale. "Oh no! Katrinka!" Tears of regret stung Katrinka's eyes. "It's okay, it's the price I have to pay for being in the war." "But teaching means so much to you!" Zoe said. "You worked hard to get through college!" "I really don't want to talk about this." Katrinka turned to leave. Nick grabbed her arm. "Stay, Katrinka. I have a present for you and the others." The former teacher looked up to Nick. "You don't have to give me anything." "I called a judge friend of mine. When I explained what happened, she agreed to have all charges against the six of you dropped, and your record sealed." "You're kidding," Adriana said in disbelief. "I wouldn't kid about something like this." Nick hugged Katrinka. "You won't lose your job." Katrinka cried, but this time it was tears of joy. ******************* Gemsong looked around for the rest of Nick's Six. All of them had vanished. She asked Eowyn who told her she thought she saw them go upstairs to Nick's bedroom. Gemsong decided to follow. The door to the room was partially open. She could see Nick holding Katrinka close, and stroking her hair. Her fellow Knightie was married! Nick had feelings for Natalie! In indignation, she burst into the room. "Nick! You can't do this!" "What do you mean?" Nick asked puzzled. "Katrinka's *married*! You can't fool around with her!" Suddenly the entire room filled with laughter, as Gemsong realized for the first time that the rest of Nick's Six were there. "What's going on?" she demanded. Nick pulled away from Katrinka. "Why don't you guys leave us alone." "Sure, Nick." Adriana said. Katrinka smiled at Nick. "Thanks." The rest of Nick's Six left the room. Mindy shut the door. Nick explained about the charges being quashed to Gemsong. "No wonder Katrinka was crying." Tears stung Gemsong's eyes. "I have a present for you, for your birthday." "Having the charges dropped was present enough." Gemsong told him. Nick went to the drawer, and took out a small package. He handed it to Gemsong. Then Nick smiled. "Happy Birthday." Gemsong took the present and opened it. It was a pentagram necklace studded with small diamonds. She could tell it was an heirloom. "I can't take this!" "It was given to me by someone very special. She made me promise that I would give it to someone on their thirtieth birthday." Nick paused. "I would like it if you accepted it." Tears stung the woman's eyes. "Thank you." "Let me put it on you." Nick took the package out of her hand. He took out the necklace and unfastened it. "Turn around." Gemsong did as she was told. Nick put the necklace around her neck and fastened it. Then his hands rested on her shoulders for a few moments. Nick walked around her, then kissed her gently on the lips. "Happy birthday Gem." Small crumbs of cake, a ribbon of icing here and there and smears of ice cream were all that remained of the birthday repast when Nick and Gemsong finally came downstairs. The other Knighties wondered what had transpired between the two. They noticed the pentagram necklace she had not been wearing before and wondered even more. Nick looked at the cart where the cake and ice cream had been. There didn't seem to be any left at all! "Hey, I didn't get any cake or ice cream!" Nick lamented to no one in particular. Katrinka heard him. She went out into the kitchen when his attention was occupied elsewhere and took something out of the refrigerator. With her hands behind her back, she walked over to Nick. Carefully holding the large plate behind her back in one hand, she tapped him on the shoulder and waited for him to turn around. When he did, she held out the plate to him. On the plate were a very large piece of chocolate cake and 3 large scoops of ice cream. A huge grin broke across his face. She gave him a fork and spoon and urged him to sit down at the table. He took a bite of the cake. He took another bite and another and another. "Do you like it?" Katrinka asked. He hadn't said a word since he started shoveling the cake into his mouth. "I luf ith." His mouth was so full of cake he couldn't speak clearly. Then he started on the ice cream. When he was finished, he held the plate out to her and said, "More?" "Nick, that's enough for now. Besides there's no more cake or ice cream." His disappointed look spurred her to promise that she would make more ice cream and cake later in the week. "Besides, I think it's time for presents. Why don't you go and announce that and I'll take care of the plate and silverware." Nick's announcement of gift-giving time had Knighties scurrying all over the loft to retrieve packages from various nooks and crannies. The Knighties gathered around Gem on the sofa. Nancy retrieved a notepad from the telephone stand behind the sofa and sat down next to Gem. She recorded each gift and who it came from. "Me first, " Mindy handed her a small, dark-velvet jewelry case tied with a simple ribbon bow. The small box held a sterling silver claddagh brooch. Ooooohs and aaaaahs broke out as Gem pinned it to her pajamas. "It's a symbol of friendship," Mindy explained. "It's beautiful. Thank you." Gem hugged her friend. After Sandra had discovered that Gemsong's favorite movie of all time was the same as hers, she knew what she would do for Gem's birthday gift. She hoped Gem liked her drawing of Rhett and Scarlett from "Gone with the Wind" as she handed her the brightly wrapped box containing the picture. Gem ripped the paper off and held the gift up for everyone to see. "Did you draw this?" she asked Sandra. "It's wonderful! 'Gone with the Wind' is my all time favorite movie!" Sandra blushed a little and said, "Yes, I did. Thanks. I hope you enjoy it." "I know I will. Thanks!" Katinka's gift came next. She handed Gem a small gift bag. Reaching down through the crackly tissue paper, Gem pulled out a Beanie Baby (tm) vampire bat. The tag named the little bat 'Nick.' "He's perfect!" Gem chuckled. "Thank you Katrinka!" Zoe handed Gem a white bakery bag. She reached in. She eyed Zoe warily as she held up a chocolate cookie. Keeping a firm grip on the edge of the cookie she asked innocently, "Did you make these, Zoe?" Zoe, looking slightly hurt, replied, "No, I didn't make them. They won't explode. They're store-bought. They're called 'To-Die-For Chocolate Cookies'. Try it." Gem bit into the cookie and a look of pure bliss covered her face. She quickly ate the rest of the cookie and reached for another one. "Mind if I share them?" "Not at all." Gem passed the bag around. Silence befell the room as the Knighties one by one found themselves in chocolate heaven. The next gift came from Eowyn. When she had unwrapped the package, Gem found an 8x10 color picture of Nick and his Knighties. It was signed, "All our love, Nick and the Knighties." "Thanks Eowyn." Stephanie handed Gem a small squishy package. Gem unwrapped a soft, downy pair of colorful socks with individual toes. "I love them. Thank you, Stephanie." A small envelope was placed in Gem's hand. She pulled a certificate out and read, "Good for one visit to the Canadian Pacific Royal York Spa." "This'll be good for after the war! Thanks, Adriana." One by one the gifts were unwrapped. Gem couldn't believe the incredible generosity of her fellow Knighties. "Thank you all so much." She could say no more. She didn't believe her birthday could get any better. "One more gift, from me." Nick told her to close her eyes and cup her hands together. He placed a smooth, cold object in them and folded her fingers over it. "Ano." She had been about to say "Another one?" but Nick had put a finger to her lips and commanded, "Open your eyes." Gem looked at the object in her hands. It was a hand-painted, porcelain sea creature lying on its back. "It's a manatee! I collect them. Nick, how did you know?" "I make it my business to know about my Knighties." Impulsively Gem threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Thank you for everything." He put one finger under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. The kiss took her breath away and once more she stood speechless. She continued to cling to him because her legs had turned to noodles and she was afraid she would collapse in an undignified heap at his feet if she let go. Two kisses in one day. She was one lucky Knightie. She finally regained her equilibrium. She stepped back to admire the little manatee still clutched tightly in her hand. The little creature's flippers were resting on its stomach and it looked like it hadn't a care in the world just floating there on the waves of an aqua sea. "No more tears about turning 30, okay? After all, think of the alternative." Gem nodded her agreement, her eyes shining with happiness. Beth walked over and whispered something in Gem's ear. The smile on Gem's face grew wider. She launched herself at the unsuspecting ex-vampire with a cry of "Puppy Pile." The rest of the Knighties piled in with squeals of excitement and Nick Knight, crusader and former vampire, once again found himself at the bottom of the Knighties most beloved form of affection. The End Happy Birthday Gemsong! ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Mon Aug 23 20:29:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J4PP-00076t-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:25:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9941; Mon, 23 Aug 99 20:22:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4031; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:22:49 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:24:18 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Vetterburg Vendetta (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 783858d7d2d6174337c406a0f35539eb Title: Vetterburg Vendetta (3/3) Author: Shelley and Arletta Asbury = with permission from all used Date: Friday Morning, August 20th Time: After "Vetterburg Vendetta (2/3)" Before "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm = Just A Plain 'Ol Human" "Okay, here's the plan...we tell her we need to make a quick stop to get directions to the summer castle", Arletta told Annette and Brandi as they walked to the van in the CERK parking lot. = "Think she'll buy it?" asked Brandi. "I hope" Arletta sighed. "And why are we doing this again?" Annette asked. "Because we need to keep her close to us today until we can = figure something out to change her back..." Arletta began. "Into a human??" Brandi interrupted, snickering. The other two snickered as well. It was hard to imagine any = *human* CHOOSING to wear THOSE clothes. "I don't think she's dangerous, as long as we keep her far away from Nat" Arletta continued, hoping she was right. "Maybe we'll run into someone who can help her at the taping..." she trailed = off. ------------------------------------------------------- Outside the Monastery --------------------- "Uh oh, bad news," Arletta said returning to the van. "Where's Shelley?" Annette asked. "Good Question! THAT'S the bad news," Arletta replied. "I guess she didn't wait..." Brandi began but noticing the look on Arletta face, Brandi decided to keep the rest of her thoughts to herself. "What do we do now?" Annette asked. "We have some time before the taping, let'd drive around awhile and try to find her," Arletta answered. --------------------------------------------------- Shelley still wore the traditional shocking pink = storming-the-castle outfit when they found her = outside a bank. Her previous night's wanderings had = put a few wrinkles in it, but otherwise it was still extremely and obnoxiously pink. The pitchfork was clutched in her hand, as always. Heaven knows what Shelley must have *thought* the = bank was, and its guard was eyeing her and the = pitchfork suspiciously, when Arletta succeeded in = dragging her away. Shelley's limp was now more pronounced than usual but = she was managing quite nicely with the help of her = pitchfork to lean on. Arletta presumed her cane was = where ever her regular clothes had ended up. The wild = and half-crazed look in her eyes seemed to be intensified = by sleep deprivation. All in all, it was not a promising = sight, and Arletta sighed deeply. Annette and Brandi had helped to convince Shelley to join them on their 'mission' to attack Doctor Nateinstein. "Vat is vrong, Arletta?" Shelley asked in her bad B-movie = German accent. "Ummm, well, uhhhh...." Arletta began, stalling while = waiting for divine inspiration to hit. "We need to go = to this taping, um, for the good of Vetterburg...yeah, = that's it, it's a community service kind of thing..." = she trailed off, hoping the explanation would do the = trick. "Ahhhh, zis is a good thing, ya, I vill go too" = Shelley declared, not waiting to be asked. "No one is more proud to be a Vetterburger zan I AM!" she declared proudly. "Yeah, so we've noticed" Annette replied dryly. "We're here" Brandi announced, pointing to the = television studio parking lot. = As they piled out of the van, Shelley naturally = grabbed her pitchfork. The other three glanced = nervously at each other with looks of panic. = "Shelley, you can't take that in there" Annette = said. = "Und vhy not?" Shelley asked, clutching the weapon = tightly and stroking it soothingly. "Well, for one thing, that big guard over there = won't like it" Brandi said, stifling a giggle. Shelley was torn. She simply HAD to go to this = taping thing, if it was for the good of Vetterburg. = But to leave her precious pitchfork in the van all = alone? Where anyone might find it and take it away? = Shaking her head from side to side in an attempt to = clear it, she tried to *think*. Just as her addled = brain began to wonder just WHAT she was doing, the = power of the whammy took hold again. = "NEIN, NEIN, I MUST HAVE MY PITCHFORK" she began to = yell at the top of her voice. People were beginning to = stare. "IF ZIS IS REALLY FOR VETTERBURG, VHY VOULD ZHEY = NOT LET ME HAVE IT??" Arletta realized the situation was going downhill = fast. The guard had gotten to his feet and was giving = them a hard look. They needed to salvage what they could out of this. "Okay, okay, Shelley, take it = easy..." she said soothingly. "DEATH TO THE OPPRESSORS!!" "Ummm, yeah, that's what I always say" Brandi lied. "If you quiet down, we'll figure something out" Annette = threw in, hoping someone else had an idea. Shelley grew quiet, still clutching the pitchfork. She = looked at the three other women and noted the looks of = desperation in their faces. Of course, they were as upset = about Dr. Natenstein as she was, she reasoned. Well, okay, = maybe not *reasoned*, more like concocted. Given her = present state of mind however, she wouldn't have known = the difference. "I think I have a plan" Brandi said, snapping her fingers. = "Follow me!" As the foursome approached the guard, he eyed them = suspiciously. Brandi turned to Shelley and, hoping like = mad the woman would follow along, said "Okay, now that = was great, but can you do it with a bit more *feeling* = this time? Like that pitchfork was your, uhhh, best = friend in the world!" Shelley looked confused but said "Ya, okay....DEATH = TO THE OPPRESSORS!" "Great! Just GREAT!" Brandi gushed. = "Actors, what can you do?" Arletta quipped, shrugging = her shoulders at the guard. He continued to look at = them oddly, but let them pass without incident. Three = of them breathed sighs of relief, while Shelley had the = strangest feeling she had just missed something important. --------------------------------------------------- (Continued in "I Used To Be A Vampire, But Now I'm Just = A Plain 'Ol Human") From - Mon Aug 23 20:43:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J4c1-0004Jb-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:38:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2333; Mon, 23 Aug 99 20:33:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4960; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:33:20 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:37:20 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack - Follow the Liter To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5bec862acd53accfa4dd0dc60cc73557 I'm posting this for Carrie Brennan who's having trouble posting. --------------- WAR: N&NPack - Follow the Liter ( NNPACK) By: Carrie B. Everyone appears with permission. Time: Sunday Aug. 22 Afternoon Before 'Pictionary Party' Place: N&NPack Theatre -------------- "Is the coast clear?" Nir asked as she walked into the crowded kitchen where the N&NPack cooks were preparing for their upcoming party. Mary shook her head. "No sign of Carrie yet. I heard the cat dander still floating around had her sneezing so bad she went downtown to the BCE festival to scout for Nunkies." "Good. I like Carrie but we can't let her near the kitchen after last War." Marci looked up from her calculator. "Who? Carrie?" "Someone forgot to tell her to convert all of the recipes into metric and we ended up with a truck load of tortilla chips." Mary grimaced. She was just now able to look a jar of salsa in the eye again. "Besides, who wants her sneezing all over the place?" Marci smiled. "Well, not to worry. I have my handy dandy calculator here to convert Mary's cookie recipes from cups to kilograms." "It's supposed to be LITERS!" Nir cried out. Mary let out a heavy sigh then dumped the current bowl full of batter into the trash. "Ooops." Marci stared at her calculator. " I guess I slipped a digit." Amanda watched Mary trash the dough from the other side of the room. " What happened? Did Carrie screw up the recipes again?" "We're just having a minor technical difficulty." Nir crossed the room to check on Amanda. " At least one Salmon converts to one Salmon for your recipe." "Yeah, but how much cream do I put in this dip? Two cups is how many kilograms again?" "LITERS! LITERS!!!" The kitchen staff yelled in unison. Amanda silently tipped the bowl over and let the dip roll into the trash. "Whose going to clean all this fish?" Nir asked. Marci pretended to be very interested in her calculator. Mary looked up at the ceiling and began whistling `Here's a howdy doo' from the Mikado and Amanda quietly went in search of more cream. "Has anyone seen Kevin?" Nir scanned the room. " Don't men like to clean fish?" Marci shrugged and jokingly replied. "I always leave it to my husband and son. It's part of the three `F's' of manhood, right? Food, Fish, and Forever Knight." Nir picked up the fish scaler as she mumbled something under her breath about men being like cops- never one around. (end) Carrie B. NNPacker@prodigy.net I wonder how much deeper the ocean would be without sponges. From - Mon Aug 23 21:09:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J53a-0005VP-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 21:07:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3597; Mon, 23 Aug 99 21:00:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7206; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 21:00:38 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:58:09 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS: Of Wives and Men (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ce2fe086536d3f79c983953289435212 WAR: MERCS: Of Wives and Men (01/01) by Laurie MercBard Nick, Happy Souvlaki and Nameless, Faceless Customer # 1 used with permission Time: Sometime Monday evening, whenever Nick's not elsewhere Place: The Happy Souvlaki The Mercs were enjoying a rare dinner out, when Nick Knight entered the Happy Souvlaki alone and placed a take out order. The Grand High Poobah could not stop staring at Nick from her table in the corner. She stared and stared, as a very peculiar look came into in her eyes. Soon everyone in the Deli noticed, except of course, for Nick, who engrossed in a newspaper he had picked up while waiting for his order, still had difficulty getting a clue. "Why is she staring at Nick that way,?" asked nameless faceless Customer #1, who happened to be sitting right next to the detective, thus making his lack of super hearing no problem at all. "I mean, I know he's gained weight recently, but ..." Nick, at the mention of his name, looked up. As he scanned the room, Laurie caught his eye and waved. He rose from his counter stool and walked over to the Poobah. "Yes? Did you want something from me?" he warily asked the Merc leader. "I want a lot of things from you, Detective Knight, but none of them are mentionable in a PG war," the MercBard replied. The other Mercs snickered. "Then why are you staring at me?" countered Nick. "I'm not staring at *you* exactly," the GHP retorted smugly, her gaze moving downward from Nick's face. "I was just wondering if ..," she paused and smirked. "Wondering if *what*?" Nick was losing patience. "If ... if it's true." Laurie leaned back in her chair, staring pointedly at the region of Nick's body containing (censored in a PG war.) Nick, who bore an astonishing likeness to a crumbly adobe object, still didn't get it. "Is *what* true?" he said in an exasperated tone. He suddenly realized exactly what the Poobah was staring at, and turned bright red. The Poobah and the other Mercs were clearly enjoying the detective's predicament. "Well, according to your wives, you're quite the specimen," Laurie declaimed smugly. That caught Nick up short. "Wives? What *wives*? I don't *have* any wives," the detective replied, in that irritating bewildered tone of voice he did so well and so frequently. "Really? According to the Warlock's list of factions playing, along with several war stories that have already dropped, to say nothing of Harem member signatures, you've got a whole parcel of them. In fact, I understand they're multiplying like ... " the Poobah shuddered, "... rats." "Look, I don't have any wives. If I was going to have a wife, I would have only one, and that would be ..." The Mercs all leaned forward in their chairs. This could be useful information for future blackmail. Nick caught himself, remembering exactly who he was speaking to. "Never mind! I'm telling you, I don't have any wives!" "Well, if you don't have any wives, how come in some war stories, you're there talking to them, addressing them as 'wife? Huh?" Nick had the grace to look abashed. "What can I say, I have an extremely selective memory, depending on who's controlling my character at any given moment," he answered apologetically. "Besides," he quickly added. "All that's been corrected in reposts." "That's okay, I understand," the GHP airily waved her hand. "You're not the one making these decisions. It's not your fault." The entire room suddenly went quiet, and as one turned to stare at Nick. Something not his fault? Impossible. Absolutely against canon. Laurie continued, "Perhaps lack of air under all those puppy piles ... I mean, puppy piles are so *you*, don't you think? ... has cut off circulation to your brain, causing you to periodically lose important segments of your memory." One of the Mercs giggled. Nick stared at the Poobah. She was starting to get on his nerves. "I *AM NOT* losing my memory! And I *LIKE* puppy piles!" "Okay, if you say so," the Poobah replied, raising an eyebrow. "But if I were you, I'd *want* to remember my wives. Especially if all the tales they tell are true." She grinned at Nick. "What *TALES*?" Laurie delivered the coup de grace. "I didn't get the specs for the anatomically correct Nicksickles out of thin air, you know." Nick opened his mouth to reply, then shut it. One thing he *did* remember was the box of Nicksickles and Nunkies pops that had been anonymously delivered to the loft at the end of the last war. Nick's (censored in a PG war) had been, well, huge, while LaCroix's had left, shall we say, something to be desired. Despite his best efforts, he felt a grin spread across his face. After all, mortal or immortal, he was still a man. He *had* been flattered, and had spent some quite enjoyable moments imagining his master's reaction to the Merc products. "Yes, well ... " he stuttered. "Those *were* quite well done," adding grudgingly, "I owe you one." "I'll remember that," the GHP smiled. While the Merc books were full of IOUs, very few were from actual FK characters. This could prove useful in the future. "I'm sure you will," the detective replied, wishing he could take back the words. He ended the conversation by turning away from the Mercs, and addressed the room at large. "Anyone know a good divorce lawyer?" -finis- From - Mon Aug 23 21:14:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J57h-0001K6-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 21:11:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2501; Mon, 23 Aug 99 21:09:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7887; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 21:09:33 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:12:32 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: CLone Star Software Subject: Re: WAR: Open Circle Reminder To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU In-Reply-To: Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2fdb9307d83e7a6708240784f9af7576 Sorry this is so late. Please include me in the circle. I'm Wiccan. Marci C. (NNP ) cstar@airmail.net At 12:32 AM 8/23/1999 EDT, you wrote: >A couple of days ago, I realized that I hadn't sent out a reminder about the >open Circle the NatPack is holding. So, here it is. > >== >The NatPack would like to invite all Witches, Wiccans, Pagans (techno and >otherwise) and anyone else open-minded to an open circle on August 26, 1999. >If you wish to attend, please RSVP (i.e., giving permission for you to be >written into the story) to Robyn (Josette@aol.com) by August 22. More >details still to come. >== > >Since I've been lax about getting a reminder out, I'm extending the RSVP >deadline to Monday, August 23 at 11:59 PM EDT. If you are interested, please >let me know OFFLIST. Later details will be sent via private email. > >Similarly, if you have already RSVP'd and will be *unable* to attend, due to >war plot-twists or what have you, please let me know ASAP so I can take your >name off the list. > >Thank you. > >========================================================== >Robyn ~ Josette@aol.com ~ http://thor.prohosting.com/~nanette/menu.htm >Nanette & Associate *NatPack* Webmistress ~ XPhile * Slayerette * Xenite ~ >========================================================== >"Sanity is relative. For some of us, it's just a distant cousin." > > From - Mon Aug 23 22:32:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J6Ep-000190-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 22:23:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0435; Mon, 23 Aug 99 22:20:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4941; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 22:20:53 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 21:22:38 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: A Perfect Tour Guide (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2fec2875dfb87b76f472e30c10466ac2 Title: Cousins LCL: A Perfect Tour Guide (1/1) Date: Thursday August 19, 1999 Time: Mid-Morning Miss Johnson is not real, created by me with permission to use her. "Miss Johnson, welcome to the Monastery. I'm Annette and you're right on time. Please come in." "Thank you Annette," she replied "Why don't we chat as we walk the actual tour you'll be giving?" Annette asked. "Sure, that's fine." "Let's start with you telling me what experience you have," Annette said as they walked around the foyer. "I gave tours at the art museum for the past 3 years. I was down sized when they started using the optional audio cassette tours. They didn't need as many guides anymore." Miss Johnson explained. "Are you familiar with the architectural style represented here?" Annette asked as she led them towards the library. "Yes I am," Miss Johnson continued, "Actually this is the first representation of Asymmetric Kanting in all of North America. The style is especially prevalent in the foyer and here in the library." "You've studied up on the style," Annette smiled broadly, "I'm impressed." "Thank you, I actually took a few architectural design classes in college. It's sort of a hobby." "Well your credentials look to be in order and your background more than qualifies you for the position," Annette ventured, "I'd say you're perfect for the job." "There are just a few things I'd like to point out right off the bat Annette." Miss Johnson hesitated a beat and said, "I'm the tour guide, not the maid." "Exxxcuse mmme..." stammered Annette "I don't do windows, I don't dust, no emptying trash cans, no picking up behind the guests," Miss Johnson said firmly. "I repeat, I'm the tour guide, not the maid." "oh, ok," Annette said hesitantly. "I don't work on Tuesdays, Friday afternoons or weekends. I have a life, you know what I mean." "uh, yes.." Annette was not quite sure how to take all this and was totally caught off guard. Only a moment ago she thought she'd finally found a tour guide. "I believe in promptness," Miss Johnson continued. "Tardiness won't be tolerated. If visitors come late, they miss the tour, I won't start over and I won't be interrupted. No questions till the end and only for 5 minutes." "I see..." Annette said starting to get more than a little irritated now. "If you don't have a cashier I'll expect 10% of the fees in addition to my 50k salary. I get all holidays off with pay, 2 weeks vacation and paid sick time. I'll also need a room to myself for quiet reflection in between tours. Is all that understood?" "Perfectly," answered Annette. "I assume you have 401k and profit sharing..." queried Miss Johnson. "Before we go any further," Annette said quickly, "Let me just say this. Tours are given daily, we accept all visitors and answer all questions. There's no cashier, no tips, no paid time off sick or otherwise, no benefits, the salary is minimum wage and we do need a maid. Is all that understood?" "Perfectly." said a very tight lipped Miss Johnson who promptly turned on her heels and walked away. "We could probably work out the room thing though..." Annette said as the front door was very firmly shut. From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J6dw-000793-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 22:49:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0584; Mon, 23 Aug 99 22:46:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7670; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 22:46:52 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 22:43:31 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: NA: What's 5K When You've Got a 6.1K Hard Drive? (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c1e101f0a3ec8e0b43311aa254c86933 WAR: NA: What's 5K When You've Got a 6.1K Hard Drive? (01/01) by Laurie MercBard who loves writing under pressure, really, I do When: Conversion Day afternoon, Monday, August 23. Where: Outside the Shrine of Nunkies Why: Because we like to party Excitement filled the air, as the participants in the 5-K race, the first event of the festivities, lined up outside the Shrine.Factions of all races, colors, creeds, and species came together, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm, to watch the runners take their places. Somewhere in the background "We are the World" was playing. It was a lovely scene. Exactly what a war should be. It made the GHP want to gag. But hey, that's another story. This one's a Nunkies (with an s) Anonymous story. As the eager runners and flyers warmed up, HP Jules escorted LaCroix to the podium. "If you would be so kind as to start the race?" she asked the ancient vampire, handing him the mallet for the newly acquired Sacred Wind Chime Start the Race Gong. LaCroix nodded in acquiescence, turning to look at the assembled crowd. The gathered folks instinctively quieted; mortal though he might be, the ancient's gaze still held power. The GHP met his eyes and stuck out her tongue. Well, ok, she thought about sticking out her tongue. She wasn't actually stupid enough to do it. Because after all, this was a Nunkies (with an s) Anonymous post, and it was time to start the race. LaCroix, though, chose to lay down the mallet, much to the surprise of everyone. Instead, he picked up a small, yellow daisy pattern toga. "Let the games begin," the General announced, dropping the toga. And they did. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J6yE-0003Cs-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:09:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4394; Mon, 23 Aug 99 23:07:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1458; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:07:53 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:07:57 EDT Reply-To: Libratsie@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: RP: Run for the Ratsies (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 91e70fda4cffe607226dddc30c464fa5 RUN FOR THE RATSIES (01/01) Time: The NA Conversion Day 5K Everyone used with everyone's permission By Libby Singleton "Wot do ya do h'in one o' these 5 K thingees, Libs?" Screed asked,=20 swatting aside a rat who was chewing on his well-worn running shoes=20 =91borrowed' from Bourbon's belongings several years before. The Ratpack an= d=20 thousands and thousands of wee lil' ratsies were waiting at the Conversion=20 Day 5K starting gate. "Ya run," Libs explained. "Why?" Johnsie asked. "Sometimes h'it's so's ya kin raise money fer charity," Michele said. "Coooo! We raisin' moo-la fer h'ourshelfishes?" Marissa asked. "Uhr, no, this h'ain't for such this time," Libs said. "Sum'times folks runs fer =91ealth o' h'it," Michele said with an =91oh,=20 yuck' expression. "Don't need none o' tha'," Screed said. "Oi'm fit h'az h'a=20 fiddle-dee-dee." The entire Ratpack paused in their race preparations to consider exactly=20 why they were there. "Put yar thinkin' caps h'on ya noggins," Johnsies=20 ordered, something the group immediately obeyed as they each donned a=20 colorful beanie complete with propellers. Since most of the running outfits they could see around them did not hav= e=20 pockets, it seemed unlikely a lot of change would fall to the ground ripe fo= r=20 the snatching. Some of the Ratpackers occasionally hung out with the Nunkie= s=20 Anonymous crowd sponsoring the event, but they saw themselves as above the=20 Addicts since they refused to lower themselves to running around in togas=20 (which was not the same thing, after all, as running around in bedsheets=20 borrowed from Merc Central, something that was very Ratpackerish and thus=20 could not in any way be compared to the silly habit of running around in=20 togas). The Ratpackers, despite their guaranteed genuine no-money-back=20 thinking caps bought from a gypsy at a swap meet who looked strangely like=20 the Merc GHP, could not think of any one good reason to be running in a 5K=20 race. While the Ratpack was deep in concentration on this very important=20 matter, LaCroix dropped a yellow daisy toga, announcing "Let the games begin= !" In unison, the Ratpack shouted, "Now we know why we're runnin', ta keep=20 from bein' run-ded roight o'er!" Libs then leapt on Johnsies' back, and=20 Screed onto Michele's, so they would not have to run for themselves. Mariss= a=20 quickly put on a pair of rollarblades, and lassoed Libs and Johnsie to be=20 pulled along, having been inspired by the blind Basset Barnabas' similarly=20 powered skateboard. (Barnbas being very round pooch so not up to long runs= ,=20 besides he could thus travel along while on his back whining and barking to=20 be petted.) As the Ratpack ran for their Ratpack lives, the thousands and thousands=20 of lil' ratsies also scurried along with the crowd. Other lil' ratsies=20 joined in, creeping from buildings, sewers, drainage ditches, and some=20 seemingly out of no where. Many runners, concentrating at the task at hand,=20 didn't even notice their rodent competition. Kenny the rat, though, did not run. Instead, he peered out of a window=20 observing the other rats. There were lots of other rats, to be sure, but=20 Kenny wasn't satisfied at all. There'd have to be many, many more. He wrun= g=20 his lil' ratsie pawsies together in anticipation, thinking up a brand new ol= d=20 saying: When Screed's a mortal, the rats will take over. --END-- LibRatsie@aol.com From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J76G-0003ZM-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:18:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4432; Mon, 23 Aug 99 23:10:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1826; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:10:24 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:11:58 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA: Unconsciousness Can Be Bliss (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9559527233fdb6613d87ccc93eb8735c Title: Unconsciousness Can Be Bliss (1/1) Author: Christy Stillman Time: During the running of the 5K on Conversion Day Notes: Evil Cousin Tiff and her creation, the Toenotes, used with her kind permission. Surely there were worse things than running a 5K, but at the moment Christy couldn't come up with any. Perhaps she should end her pain by simply passing out, she thought glumly. If she didn't start tossing her cookies first. Where was that second wind runners always talked about? Forget the second wind, where was her first? Where were the endorphins? She looked down the length of the course ahead of her. Where was the bloody FINISH LINE??? Behind her, she heard a strange noise, sort of a combination of a "meep" and a goose being strangled. Turning, she saw Evil Cousin Tiff and the Toenotes, who had apparently decided to film the Conversion Day activities. To that end, the boys were piled into a golf cart with all their camera equipment and were pacing Tiff as she jogged along. The odd noise was the sound of the cart's horn warning unsuspecting runners of their presence as they serpentined their way through the crowded street. Chip drove the cart while Chad, the navigator, continuously shouted out directions, "Yo, like, left dude! No man, your *other* left." Balanced precariously in the back seat were Trevor, with the boom mike; Travis, struggling with his ever-present spotlight; and Daryl, who was wielding the camera. Swaying with the cart, they focused all their energy into immortalizing their Evil Leader, Tiff's, run on film. The huffing and puffing redhead turned back to her running...er...plodding, and grumbled under the breath she no longer possessed. The cart passed her, and Tiff pulled alongside her, looking the very picture of youthful vigor. Christy momentarily considered backhanding the 19-year-old. "Hi there! Isn't this a great day for a run? Wow, I haven't done this since high school track!" beamed Tiff. "Hhuuffff," Christy answered. "Hhuuffff, pppuuffff, pppuff." Ahead of them, Chad yelled out, "Dude! Pothole alert! Like, turn right!" Chip swerved left. The boys in the back swerved right. The boom mike swung free and tagged Christy's forehead. Staggered by the blow, she T-boned the golf cart and executed a very graceful arc over the cart, did a half twist, eyes and mouth wide open as Daryl turned to go in for a close-up, and landed on her back on the grass beside the roadway. "All right!" Daryl crowed. "Now, that's entertainment!" As the darkness closed in on her, Christy smiled. From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J76H-0003ZM-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:18:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4470; Mon, 23 Aug 99 23:15:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2516; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:15:28 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:17:15 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR: Nothers/Mercs: A Nother Day's Journey (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: be842300b2f0b1f56d53aa93113e5022 All real people used by permission. Daf is the joint property of the Nothers faction. This story takes place sometime before What's 5K When You've Got a 6.1K Hard Drive? A Nother Day s Journey (1/1) by NightDancer Chateau des Autres Monday, August 23 11:00 AM EST "Okay, the horses are loaded," Daf announced, thumping the side of the trailer. "Now, where's this chariot?" "Right here!" Liz sang out chipperly as she and Kat wheeled a large object out into the courtyard. It was draped in a king-sized white sheet, but the shape was fairly discernible. "What's with the sheet?" NightDancer asked. The two other girls grinned wickedly. "It's a surprise," Liz stated. "You'll see when we get there." Shrugging, Dancer helped load the chariot into the back of the van, resisting the temptation to peek. The last two rows of seats had to be removed to fit it in, which unfortunately left the group short of space to transport everyone to the NA Shrine. "Well, we can squeeze six in, I'm sure," Fleurette deduced after counting. "But not seven." "That's okay," Daf said. "I can stay here, or ride in the trailer with the horses." "Oh no you don't!" Kat grabbed his arm. Liz agreed. "You're coming with us!" "But there's no room!" the hapless stableboy protested. "There is if you sit across our laps," the redhead retorted with an evil grin. "Oh. Well if you put it that way..." Still grinning wickedly, the group piled into the van. Fleurette was driving, and her mother, Jeanne, had the front passenger seat. After a little quibbling, the backseat arrangements were finally settled when Daf agreed to sit between Liz and Kat so his butt would technically be on both their laps. Poor Elladara, as the only non-drooler over Daf in the back, got stuck with his feet and Dancer had to make do with his knees, since the other two put their feet down quite firmly when she suggested having him lie down with his head in *her* lap. Once everyone was in, Fleurette started the engine and headed into the city, towards the newly-restored Shrine to Nunkies where the day's festivities were being held. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J7Fv-0003xp-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:28:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4518; Mon, 23 Aug 99 23:25:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3306; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:25:54 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 20:27:41 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--Vaq Attack Radio To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 52d3732c782567fea1280934d42b34b2 23 August 1999 The Church (again!)/a remote location Toronto, ON 11 pm Cousin Tok used with her gracious consent. Disclaimers at the end. Vaq Attack Radio By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia The Vaq troopers were laying around the Church slacking as usual, when Cliff dragged out his radio. "How about some tunes, guys?" There was a general consensus, and he flicked the power switch to 'on'. The Church was filled with static. "Aaaccckkk," the Vaqs cried in unison. "Oh, sorry! What station do you guys want?" Tracy Sue uncovered her ears. "Put it on CERK, Cliff, let's hear LaCroix's pearls of wisdom for tonight." Cliff turned the dial, and the General's voice flowed into the room. "Tonight is call-in night, gentle listeners. Tell me what you are thinking and feeling. Tell me your loves and fears; your darkest desires. The Nightcrawler is listening." "Oh, brother! Listen at him, y'all," Felicia groaned. "As if he reeeaaaalllly cares!" "Yeah! I'll bet he hears the caller's comment, thinks of an appropriate response, and then tells them the *opposite*," Teresita put in. "Shhhh," Echo said. "He's got someone on the line." They turned their attention to the radio. "Good evening, you have reached the Nightcrawler," LaCroix purred over the airwaves. "What is on your mind, caller?" "Ummm, I-I don't know if I should be telling you this, but, well, I'm terribly depressed." The caller voice was dull and monotone. He did indeed sound depressed. "Boy, did he *ever* pick the wrong call-in show!" This was from Tabitha. "No kidding," said Melissa. "Wait, I want to hear what he says," Vachon said. "This could be interesting." "Sure, if you have suicidal tendencies," Tammy giggled. Vachon looked at her. She stopped laughing. "Yeeeessss, well. What is it that troubles you so? A lost love? A poor business deal? Perhaps something more serious?" The shaky voice came back. "Oh, Nightcrawler! My life is sooooooo horrible. My wife just left me! I just lost my job, and I've got 3 kids to feed. . ." JoAnne said, "He should get a dog. They are great company." ". . .and my dog just died." The church was filled with "oooohhhhs", "aaaaaahhhhhs", a couple of "oh, mans" and one "geez." "Hmmmm, you have had a run of, shall we say, bad luck, caller. Let us see what the masters say about misfortune. "Was it misfortune for Oedipus to kill his father and bed his mother? Was it misfortune for King Lear to raise horrible children? Was it. . ." Imajiru let out a moan. "That is hardly a comparison, those are works of fiction!" "What do ya wanna bet that the *children* comment was aimed at Nick," Stephanie asked. ". . . No. I say it was not misfortune at all, but fate, my listeners." Rae sat upright. "No, he didn't! He did *not* just say that!" Becky sighed. "Who would want to hear that if they were depressed?" "I'm *not* depressed, and I don't want to hear it," Donna returned. Felicia sat up, a wicked gleam in her eye. "Y'all wanna know what I think? I think we could do that show ten times better." Vachon cut her a look. "Only ten, Feleesh? Modesty becomes you." Felicia returned the look. "Hey, I'm just getting you back! Admit it, you've gotten me enough to warrant that one." She shrugged. "Touche, Javier." "Felicia's right," Teresita said. "We could do a number on that show." "It would be pretty funny at that. It couldn't be too hard," Erica said. "Actually, it wouldn't be that hard. There's a way to override the signal." All of the Vaqueras and Vaqueros regarded their leader. He blinked at them. "Care to explain that, bro," Echo asked. Vachon shrugged. "It's nothing, really. I worked as a DJ once, and we had to have a back up transporter for emergencies. All we'd have to do is locate the transporter and kick up the juice a bit." Tabitha looked at him in amazement. "What are you, McGyver?" "Oohhh, good show! Did y'all see the one about the. . .", Felicia began. "*No*!" Felicia looked around sheepishly. "Sorry." "You really think we could do this, Javier," Tammy asked. "Sure." The room was quiet for a moment as the Vaqs thought. LaCroix's voice could once again be heard. He was droning on and on about fate, and how there was no way to escape it. "That's it! Count me in!" Teresita jumped to her feet. "Who is with me?" "I'm there." "And me!" Soon all of the Vaqs were standing and nodding in agreement. At that moment, Juan walked in. "Oh dear, what's happening here?" "Not here, brother of mine," Vachon said with a sly grin. Felicia turned and bowed to Vachon. "Carry on, oh wonderful, exalted, superior Leader." Vachon smiled. "I resemble that remark," he said brightly. "C'mon, troops." Tammy leaned over to Becky and whispered, "What a ham!" The Vaqs, complete with a puzzled Juan, filed out of the Church. ********************************************************************** Some time later, the Vaqueras and Vaqueros were huddled en masse over Vachon's shoulders. "How much longer, Javier," Melissa asked. "I'd hate for the broadcast to be over before we hit the air." Rae snorted. "No chance of that. The Nightcrawler is very much like that Delilah woman. You know what I mean. The show goes on and on for hours." A groan arose from the group. No one noticed Cliff slipping out the side door. "Okay, that should do it. Are you guys ready to go 'live'?" "OOOhhh, can I be first?" "Sure, Tracy Sue. Seems only fitting that the VaqMom gets first crack at it." Tracy Sue sat at a table that was serving for a control panel and eyed the switches. "What do I do?" Vachon explained this switch and that button. "Oh, and this is the 'on air' light, and this light will flash when we have a caller on the line." "Sounds easy enough. Okay, I'm ready." Vachon hit the switch. Over the air, CERK listeners heard LaCroix's silky voice, a moment of static, and then maniacal laughter. "Are we on?" "Look at the light, guys." "Ha! We did it. Ahem. Good evening. Tonight's show has. . ." "Tracy Sue, you forgot the 'gentle listeners' bit." "So, true, JoAnne, I did. I'll begin again. Good evening, gentle listeners. Tonight's show has been, um, has been. ." "Commandeered," Erica suggested. "Good. Commandeered. This is *not* Nightwatch. I am *not* the Nightcrawler. Do not attempt to adjust your radios. Resistance is futile." "Bwahahahaha!" The call indicator began flashing. "It appears that we have a caller. You're on VaqAttack radio, caller. Go ahead." "Um, I'd like to request a song." The voice was oddly familiar. Tracy Sue looked around at the Vaqs. They nodded. She shrugged. "And what song would you like to hear?" "Desperado." "Is it me, or does that sound like Cliff," Teresita asked. "Nah, can't be. He's right he. . ." Vachon stopped and he and the Vaqueras scanned the room. There was no sign of Cliff. Tracy Sue turned back to the microphone. "Um, okay, caller. Here it is." She spun the disc and stood up. "Where do you think he went?" "He can't have gotten too far. I'm sure he'll be right back. My turn next," Becky slid into the chair. The Vaqueras exchanged puzzled looks and shrugged. ********************************************************************** Across town, the Cousins were listening to CERK as well. When they heard the static, and what came next, a cry rang out. "Oh, no! Is nothing sacred to those *cow* people," Cousin Tok shouted. "I can't believe this!" Just then, the phone rang. "Hello? Oh, yes Uncle, we did. I don't know. I--we--. .yes, Uncle. We will!" Cousin Tok faced her commarades and said, "Are we just gonna sit here and let them make a joke of Uncle's show?" Several "nos" could be heard. "Then follow me!" With that, the Cousins stormed out of Cerberus, determined to find the source of Uncle's irritation. ********************************************************************** Meanwhile, back at the tower, the Vaqs were having a swell time. Tammy, who had also worked as at DJ, had taken over controls, and each Vaq was having a turn at talking to callers and spinning tunes. The call light flashed, and Teresita said into the microphone, "You've reached Vaq Wonder Twin number One, caller! What can I do for you?" A nasaly squeaky male voice said, "Well, Vaq Twin, I have acne. . ." "That's Vaq *Wonder* Twin, caller. Okay, so you have acne. I'm assuming you have trouble finding dates." "Yes." "Ah. Well, we here at Vaq Attack Radio have the solution. Apricot Scrub! Yes, Apricot Scrub gets rid of the worst acne problems. Just wash with it twice a day, and say 'good-bye' to pimples. Will you try Apricot Scrub today, caller?" "Ummm, yeah, why not?" "Good for you! And now, let's have some more music. Here's 'Leader of the Pack'." Teresita flipped the switch and the motorcycle's roar could be heard over the air. "Love that sound!" "Don't we all!" "Okay, who's next?" "Me!" Scott slid behind the chair. The call light was again flashing. "This is the Vaq Tech-Mav, caller! Go ahead!" "Can you play 'Desparado', please?" "Cliff! Is that you again? We've played it five times. . .in an hour! C'mon, man!" The line went dead, and Cliff shuffled back into the room with a guilty look on his face. "The time has come, gentle listeners, for a poetry moment." Scott cleared his throat before continuing. "From the wisdom of Dr. Suess. . ." The Vaqs giggled uncontrollably as Scott delivered the poem in a most dramatic way. ". . .I would not, could not, on a train, I would not, could not, in a plane. I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them, Sam I Am. . ." Tabitha shoved Scott out of the chair and sat down. "My turn! Oh, another caller! We're just popular, aren't we? Okay, caller, you're on Vaq Attack Radio!" "Hey, where's that Nightcrawler guy?' Tabitha huffed. "He's *not* here! Whaddya want?" "Oh. Okay, well can you play a really happy song for me?" "Really happy, huh?" "Yeah." Tabitha glanced through her collection. "Got just the thing, caller!" Tammy, working the controls, flipped the switch. They heard: "Things are swell, things are great, gonna have the whole world on a plate. . ." Felicia and Rae broke up laughing. "Oh, how funny," Felicia said through the tears in her eyes. Vachon looked confused. "What's so funny? It's just Esther Merman." This caused Felicia and Rae to crack up all over again. "It's *Ethel* Merman," they said together. Vachon looked at Juan, who shrugged. They just blinked and wandered off. Juan could be heard muttering, "Those two laughed at the strangest things." Cliff, meanwhile, had begun to construct a booby trap to buy time for a quick escape. He carefully rigged his cauldron of stuffed animals in a net and set it so that the cauldron and its contents would fall and trap anyone coming through the door. He was checking his work, when he noticed several cars coming up the hill. "We've got company! Looks like the Cousins," he cried. "Wait," Echo said, "one more song." She carefully changed the CD and hit the switch. The Vaqs were out the door and revving their bikes when the Cousins arrived at the door. Cliff's trap worked like a charm. It was a bunch of unhappy Cousins stuck in a huge pile of stuffed animals listening to 'Spanish Eyes' "Wow, did you see the looks on their faces," Tracy Sue asked. "Yeah! Boy will they get us, but it was worth it," Donna replied. Vachon only hoped she was right. Disclaimer: I don't own any of the songs contained with in. They remain the property of the writers and producers. I don't own Dr. Suess or "Green Eggs and Ham" either. I made up Apricot Scrub, and don't know if there is a product which bears this name. If so, please don't sue. I'm just an unemployed Graduate Student! Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2, Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!) Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J7bq-0000eq-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:50:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4621; Mon, 23 Aug 99 23:48:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4578; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:48:43 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:52:41 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack: Pictionary Party (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c208a847901d2e8f3c4cecb53430e422 WAR: N&NPack - Pictionary Party (1/3) by: Susan B. & The N&NPack with input for their segments from: Libby (Ratpack), Kathy and Beverly (FoDS), Kimberly (Ravenettes) & Knighties. Permissions obtained from the Ratpack for Screed, the Knighties for Nick, and the Natpackers for Nat. Ratpackers Libby, Johnsie, & entourage; Knighties Chris F., Tina, Eowyn, and Adriana; Natpackers Debra Ann and Linda; FoDS Kathy and Beverly; and Ravenettes Kimberly, Alexander, Caroline, and Lorna all appear by permission. Whew. I hope I left no one out. Thank you all!! Time: Scattered throughout the period 7:00 PM August 22 - 2:00 AM or so, August 23 Place: Nick&Natpack Theatre ***** Soulseeker had made a quick survey of the Lobby moments before the first guests arrived. Kevin had spent several hours overseeing the relocation of various pieces of furniture from throughout the theatre to set up a comfortable seating area here for the Pictionary game. The immense lobby, with its gleaming marble floor, wooden staircases and ornate plaster ceiling was an elegant setting, although its distance from the basement kitchen left a lot to be desired. "Looking for something?" Marci asked as she approached Soul. "Just a final look-see. I don't want anything going wrong tonight. There are a lot of people here who have been waiting for years to see a mortal Nick with Nat." Marci nodded in agreement. "I think I'll mosey on over to the buffet and check out the job Chana and Shannon did arranging everything." She wandered over to the buffet table and scanned the feast. Sliced French breads filled with various meat mixtures and veggie mixtures, several types of cheese, crackers, a myraid of vegetables and dips, and several desserts and cookies provided a colourful and tempting display. At least it was a tempting display until she eyed Amanda's salmon dip concoction which looked like naked road kill. Marci shook her head and wandered off to greet the first visitors who had just come through the door. Over the next hour, members of several factions arrived and spent time mingling and enjoying the refreshments. Boomer finally called everyone together for the first round of Pictionary. "Who would like to be our host, explain the rules and open the game?" she asked the crowd. Before the words had finished leaving her mouth, Screed had come forward and nonchalantly shoved her off to the side. "Now this h'is 'ows h'it goez, see," Screed explained. "One o' ya droogies takes a scribblin' thingee an' scribbles h'a pict-o-picture h'on a scribblin' pad an' the udder droogs h'on the udder team-h'em-h'up gotta put a guess h'at wot the scribble h'iz. Ya gotta do h'all this h'in a certainty a-mount-a-seconds. An' tha's h'all there h'iz ta h'it." Every member of the audience had their full attention on Screed, it didn't help. "WHAT DID YOU SAY!!" everyone shouted in unison. "Ol' Screed jammy-jammed the rulz, youze peoples," he snapped. "Oi h'ain't gonna da no re-peatin' o' the facts h'if ya weren't listenin' the foirst time." While Screed was speaking, Kevin turned to Cheryl and quietly whispered, "Is it my imagination, or is that stack of pictionary cards smaller than it was five minutes ago?" "Uh, Mr. Screed," Boomer said cautiously. "I think maybe someone else ought to explain the rules of the game. Kevin silently rushed up and whispered into Boomer's ear. Boomer cast a Get Lost' gesture in the Ratpack's direction. "Wot, ya kickin' h'uz h'out?" Libby protested, not being a stranger to that Get Lost' gesture. "Jest loik them Nick luvs Natters, alwayz puttin' a Ratpacker down." "H'ain't very 'o-spit-able h'if ya aske me," Johnsie snorted. "Oi know when Oi'm not wanted," Screed sniffed. "H'ain't never gettin' no re-spect." The entire Ratpack exited, but not before grabbing handfuls, even bowls full, of munchies as if they were sharks tearing apart raw meat. They had also secretly managed to pocket a number of the shiny pretty Pictionary cards figuring if baseball cards and such could bring trade at the swap meet, so would the game cards. Just as they entered their tunnel, Screed paused. "Gotta a gift for ya N&Ner types, Oi do." He turned so his back was to the crowd, then quickly lowered not only his trousers, but his very old boxers with the Forever Knight logo cross stitched across the seat. "Let Nick n' the Natter ro-mince be-neath THA' full moon!" A stunned crowd tried to rush him, but he was too fast for them. Michelle, one of the Pack's prized Nick and Nat good scenes' cross-stitchers shook her head dismally. "I'm going to have nightmares over this one," she muttered. Marci headed over to the tables to clean up the mess the Ratpack left, and the rest of the crowd went back to the play area. Boomer and Chana decided to host a practice round using N&NPackers to show everyone how the game is played. Boomer stood next to the easel which held a large pad of paper for drawing. "Before we start," she said, "Chana's going to tell you about the wonderful prize we have for the big winner of the evening." She gestured towards Chana who immediately stepped forward. "That's right," Chana announced. "The grand prize is an hour in the hot tub we have set up in a private room under the stage, complete with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame' 1989, and a quart of the freshest, ripest, strawberries from California coated in the richest, smoothest chocolate from Switzerland... Oh, and a yellow rubber duckie," she hastily added, earning some "oohs and aahs" from some of the Nick&Natpackers. Chana glanced at Monique and Wendy in particular, "Sorry," she said, "you're not eligible." "Marci, Monique, and Casey," it's your turn," Chana directed, "we're playing a team of three for this round." Marci rolled the dice, moved, and pulled a card. "The category is person, place, or animal'," she announced, and then started to draw a straight line. "Thong!" Monique shouted. Chana gave her a stern look. A "thong is neither a person, place, nor animal," she declared. "Peach!" Casey exclaimed. "Thong!" Monique countered. Chana looked at the drawing. It was now a perfect rendition of a cat that any preschooler could interpret. "Peach!" Casey yelled louder. "THONG!" Monique insisted. A full sixty seconds of repetition elapsed before Chana joyously decreed, "Time's up!" Monique suddenly scanned the room to ensure Shannon hadn't been trying to get her attention, having been fully immersed in the game. In the meantime, Carrie, Mysterie, and Susan were lolling around the buffet table and talking amongst themselves. "Can't you just imagine LaCroix crashing our party and trying to take over the game, " Mysterie said. "Here. You be Nick and I'll be LaCroix." She stood erect and stared at the fresh blank paper on the easel for a moment. Then, in a fair imitation of LaCroix's voice guessed at the imaginary drawing, "Supercalifragilisticexmealadocious". "That's not a word, LaCroix," Carrie responded, in a poor imitation of Nick's voice. Mysterie returned an arched eyebrow and a pompous stare, "But Nicholas, that word DOES exist. It's Roman!" The three girls suddenly froze when they heard the word "Cousin" in the distance. "Oh my God!" Carrie shouted, "The followers of the ex-vampire supremist are here!!!" They raced for the stairway and flung open the first door into the utility room, and then the secret door, racing full speed down the winding narrow tunnels and stairways towards the secret carpet covered room. "At least the Nuts were the last ones down here!" Carrie shouted over her shoulder, "Guaranteed reading material!" "I hope that's all they left down there," Susan added. "Geez, I hope we don't miss what might be our only opportunity to see a mortal Nick and Nat together!" Mysterie cried out. "Don't worry," Carrie replied, "I heard a rumour that the Knighties have a tape." Mysterie stopped dead in her tracks. "Better than NiQ?" she asked hopefully. (Cont'd. In Part 2/3) Susan B. freestyle@idirect.com "That which you know, you ignore because it is inconvenient. That which you do not know, you invent." (Delenn, B5, TDoFS) From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J7hX-0000u3-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:56:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4643; Mon, 23 Aug 99 23:54:35 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4958; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:54:36 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:58:37 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack: Pictionary Party (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ac15ac58390fb3d26a562ebcf4e0687d WAR: N&NPack: Pictionary Party (2/3) by: Susan B. & The N&NPack with input for their segments from: Libby (Ratpack), Kathy and Beverly (FoDS), Kimberly (Ravenettes) & Knighties Permissions as posted in Part 1 Time: Scattered throughout the period 7:00 PM August 22 - 2:00 AM or so August 23 Place: Nick&Natpack Theatre ****** Back up in the Lobby, Boomer was about to start the legitimate game of Pictionary when a flash of colour caught her eye. "What are those people doing over there?" she asked, glancing at the women hovering over the buffet. "They're sticking things in the food! Things like... like tiny umbrellas for crying out loud!" Cheryl looked towards the tables. "And leis!" she gasped. "It's the FoDS. Wasn't Angela supposed to keep them away from the tables?" "Someone should have been assigned to keep the Ratpack away from the tables," Boomer moaned. A sudden look of horror swept across Cheryl's face. "They're decorating our food with the leftovers from the Hawaiian Luau they had last year! Marci's going to have a fit!" Boomer suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs, "Next Faction up is the FoDS!" Kathy and Bev dropped the rest of their colourful gear, which they were happy to bring to liven up the place, and scrambled over to the player's area, clueless as to how to play, but instructed by their leader to "have fun". That was one thing they knew how to do! "Kathy, you roll first," Cheryl ordered. Kathy rolled and picked up a card. "The category is apparel'," she declared, and then immediately started drawing a picture of a moose. "It's a moose!" Bev guessed, as soon as one half of what was supposed to be an antler was complete. "That's right!" Kathy announced. "Gee, that was easy!" "It's *not* right!" Boomer interjected. "A moose could not and would not be in the apparel' category. Let me see that card!" She snapped the card out of Kathy's hand. "The card says pajamas'." "My moose PJ's are the best pajamas I own," Bev declared in her own defence. "That's right!" Kathy agreed, turning proudly and heading back to the food. Cheryl and Boomer looked at each other and sighed. Mary and Chana were standing just outstanding the playing area when Mary pointed towards the front entrance. "Look over there!" she said with a mischevious grin. "The Ravenettes have arrived." "With a Raven in tow, I see," Chana added, admiring the tall man sporting a pony tail. "We see so few men during these things, don't we?" She and Mary went over to greet the latest arrivals. "Hello, I'm Kimberly." The tall blue-eyed blonde said as she offered her hand to Mary. "We're happy to see you," Mary said. "I'm Mary and this is Chana." Kimberly introduced her faction members in kind, "Alex, Caroline, and Lorna." "The game's already started," Chana said. "So why don't you help yourself to the buffet while we co-ordinate a slot for you." "You wouldn't happen to have any herbal tea over there would you?" Lorna asked. "I'll fix you some," Mary offered. "In the meantime, help yourself." Alex and Lorna wandered over to inspect the offerings while Kimberly and Caroline spoke with Mary. Mary took a package from Kimberly and then scurried off through the theatre to prepare a pot of herbal tea. The FoDs were just finishing up their round of games by the time the Ravenettes made it back to the play area. Boomer divided the Ravenettes into two teams, the lucky, or unlucky winner depending on your perspective, was scheduled to compete with the Dark Perks. Caroline and Alex played first. "The category is object'," Alex said at the appropriate time. He picked up the pencil but was obviously having a bit of a problem trying to remember what the item in question looked like, having spent 55 seconds mulling over it before putting the pencil to paper. He hated fast food. A simple rectangle was almost complete when Caroline blurted out, "Platinum Credit Card!!" Alex shook his head dejectedly. "French fry," he mumbled. Kimberly and Lorna both shook their heads in mock sympathy, anxious for their own turn. Kimberly rolled the dice and picked up a card. "Person, Place, or Animal," she announced. Unlike Alex, Kimberly started to draw right away and had completed her masterpiece within ten seconds. Unfortunately, her mad scribbles were totally unrecognizable to anyone but herself. Lorna sat in stunned silence, gaping at her Leader's handiwork. Kimberly stared at Lorna. "You're supposed to be guessing what it is," she said. "You shouldn't be talking," Cheryl interjected. "That is you shouldn't be talking, Kimberly. Lorna should be guessing." "Uh... uh... uh... an ocotopus?" Lorna stumbled. "A spider? Pompeii after the eruption? A chaos demon?" "Time's up!" Cheryl announced. You will all have to play again and see if one of your teams can move forward. Several more rounds between the two teams of Ravenettes ended similarly. Kimberly, Alexander, Caroline and Lorna were having a wonderful time playing pictionary, even though neither team was really getting anywhere. Almost too much fun! Kimberly poked Caroline in the ribs and winked. Kimberly then caught Natpacker Mary's eye and made the referee "time out" sign with her hands. Mary whispered to Cheryl who then suggested everyone take a break. She eyed the group of Ravenettes, and when Alexander had Lorna deeply engrossed in a conversation, she covertly escorted Kimberly and Caroline through the theatre and down to the kitchen. "I found a good knife and here are plenty of plates, and we had enough candles--" Mary said. The trio carried the goods back through the theatre towards the row of seats nearest the Lobby where Mary had left the cake. Caroline and Kimberly put the candles on the cake and lit them. Caroline walked behind Mary and ahead of Kimberly to shield the surprise as much as she could. They made it partway across the Lobby when Lorna and Alexander both looked up at the same time. Alexander escorted Lorna across the Lobby to meet the three women, and everyone started singing "Happy Birthday to You!" to Lorna. Lorna beamed happily at the yummy birthday cake. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LORNA!" (Cont'd. in 3/3) Susan B. freestyle@idirect.com "That which you know, you ignore because it is inconvenient. That which you do not know, you invent." (Delenn, B5, TDoFS) From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J7v5-0005he-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:10:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1441; Tue, 24 Aug 99 00:08:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7434; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:08:33 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:12:33 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack: Pictionary Party (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4cd7155a6b00ee54d0eb803796150b33 WAR: N&NPack: Pictionary Party (3/3) by Susan B. & the N&NPack with input for their segments from: Libby (Ratpack), Kathy and Beverly (FoDS), Kimberly (Ravenettes) & Knighties Permissions as posted in Part 1 Time: Scattered throughout the period 7:00 PM August 22 - 2:00 AM or so August 23 Place: Nick&Natpack Theatre ***** It was around midnight when Natalie finally arrived, accompanied by Natpackers Debra Ann and Linda Rose. Several of the N&Ners present had met Debra Ann at their first Minicon and expressed their pleasure at seeing her again. She graciously introduced Linda and hugs and handshakes ensued. The two eventually parted to make way for one of the guests of honour, Dr. Natalie Lambert. "Natalie!" several Nick&Natpackers shouted as they swarmed around her. "We're so thrilled you could make it!" "Thank you," Nat replied. She idly gazed around the Lobby. "I'm surprised you're not putting on another play this year." "Soulseeker thought it would be nice to do something a little different this time," Chana explained, "and a Pictionary Party won the final vote." Stephanie beamed at Natalie. "Nick will be here soon," she said. Natalie smiled back. "So I've been told. I'm looking forward to seeing him again." "What's it like?" Wendy asked. "How do you feel about Nick being mortal now?" Natalie's mood turned a bit sombre. "Elated but cautious," she replied. "It's difficult for me to believe that mortality could come so easily to him, so... mysteriously." "Maybe you're just too used to seeing him as a vampire," Wendy suggested. Natalie sighed. "There's nothing I want more than to see Nick happy, to achieve his goal of mortality; but he... we... have had many disappointments. I simply don't want him to get hurt again. Every encounter he has with mortality leaves an aftermath that weighs more heavily on him than the last." "But if he would just accept what he is..." Tammy suggested aloud. "But his own mind and heart tell him different," Natalie explained, "and we can only give advice, recommend a course of action. It is for him and him alone to decide which road to follow.." Realizing the mood was becoming a little too solemn for a Pictionary Party, Soulseeker intervened, "Come on gang! This is supposed to be a party!" She swiftly took Natalie's hand and led her over to the playing area. The rest of the crowd followed. Natalie settled comfortably into the couch and was immediately presented with a tray of assorted goodies from the buffet, sans umbrellas, and a beverage. Her two escorts prepared to play. "OK, Debra Ann, your turn to throw the dice," Cheryl announced. Debra Ann tossed the dice in a practised manner wherein it bounced several times before finally landing on five. She deftly skipped her playing piece along the board. "It's an object," she grinned, and immediately started drawing. Only two neat little circles had been drawn when Linda's pager went off. "Fang marks!" Linda managed to blurt out before becoming totally consumed with her beeper. "Forcepts! Syringe!" she shouted, no longer even looking at the easel. Debra Ann suddenly dropped her drawing pencil and ran to Linda, "What is it! An emergency!" Laila, who had taken over the timekeeping job warned them with a , "Time's almost up!" "It's a stethoscope'," Debra Ann shouted. "That's not fair!" Wendy growled from the audience. "They cheated!" "Time *IS* up!" Laila declared. Cheryl, towering over the petite woman with the purple hair who stood next to her, glanced at her own watch, "But it's only been... OUCH!!! Why did you step on my toe?" "Look over there," Laila replied. "Nick's here!" Nat's escorts skipped off to find a phone while a mob of Nick&Natpackers raced to the door to meet Nick, leaving Nat alone on the couch. Knighties Chris F., Tina, Adriana, and Eowyn soon arrived with Nick in tow. Following protocol, faction member introductions were made before they released Nick into the arms of the Pack. Nick immediately slid into his obligatory ritual of warm hugs and friendly cheek kissing, but it wasn't lost on anyone that his eyes were focussed on the lone figure on the sofa who had already entranced him with her heart melting smile. Finally free of the tangle of arms and hands and lips, Nick headed towards the couch. The group of Knighties and the N&NPack gave him a few minutes headstart so he could greet Natalie. They watched him sit next to her, take her hand in his and lightly kiss her lips. Then Natalie put her hand over his heart and whispered something. He whispered back and they both laughed over the secret that had just passed between them. "I think it's time we start the game!" Eowyn exclaimed. "I don't stand a chance," Tina sighed, "unless the word is stick man'!" Adriana chuckled. "Don't worry," she reassured her friend. "It's a lot of fun... especially if you can't draw!" The four Knighties and the entire N&NPack sauntered over to the playing area. Natpackers Debra Ann and Linda returned from their phone mission a moment later at which time N&Ner Wendy repeated the grand prize description, solely for Nick & Nat's benefit. "What are we going to do with champagne, strawberries, and a hot tub in the Nick&Natpacker's theatre?" Eowyn whispered to Tina. "I smell a set-up," Chris F. whispered, glancing not very kindly at the items that Wendy was now eagerly displaying. "...and here is the rest of the prize," Wendy announced boldly, "a bikini and a pair of men's swimming trunks." Adriana shook her head, "Could they possibly get any more obvious than that?" N&Ners Cheryl and Laila immediately took their positions to start the game. "OK," Cheryl said. "The teams are Nick & Nat, Chris F. & Tina, Adriana & Eowyn. Whoever wins goes against the Natpackers. Nick and Nat go first." Fully aware of Nick's artistic ability, but not certain about Nat's, Cheryl quickly stuffed the dice into Nick's hand. "You'll roll the dice and draw the picture," she instructed him. Nick obliged and rolled the dice. He picked up the card and winked at Nat. "The category is difficult'," he said before quickly turning away to sketch. Nat giggled as she stretched her head from side to side, "I can't see the picture if you're standing right in front of it!" Nick moved to the side long enough for her to catch a glimpse of an unidentifiable roundish object. "The sun?" Nat guessed aloud. "Wrong," Nick replied, still immersed in his drawing. He continued his work and Natalie continued to stare at him, waiting for him to move away from the easel. Eowyn, no stranger to Pictionary, finally looked at her watch and whispered to the Natpacker seated next to her.. "Well, by my calculation a full three minutes have passed," she said. "No kidding," Debra Ann replied. "Excuse me, Wendy," Linda addressed the N&Ner hesitantly, "but I think your watch may have stopped." "No it hasn't!" Wendy insisted. "I told you it smelled like a setup," Chris F. quietly reiterated. Tina nodded her head in agreement. "We could be here all night, you know." Several minutes later, Nick tore his drawing off the easel. He folded it up and stuffed it into his pocket before anyone could see it. "I don't think the N&Ners intended this game to end any other way," Debra Ann said. The Knighties and Natpackers whispered among themselves for a few moments before grudgingly conceding Nick and Nat the winners. Michelle suddenly appeared in front of Nick and Nat. "The hot tub's all ready for you!" she exclaimed. Wendy offered the bathing suits to the couple. "Thanks anyway," Nick said, "but I don't think that will be necessary." A chorous of chuckles and catcalls arose from the crowd, most audibly from where the Nuts were seated. "That's not what I meant," Nick added sheepishly. "I don't think we can accept the prize... the game wasn't exactly... legitimate." "It ended the way it was meant to end," Michelle said. She gestured down the entrance to the theatre. "Accept it and move on." "Well, I suppose I wouldn't mind sticking my feet into some warm water for a while," Natalie admitted, noticing the gloom that had overcome the N&Ners at Nick's refusal. Nat glanced at the swimsuits, "But you can keep those," she said. She then looked at Nick, "Well, Nick, shall we accept it and move on?" "Agreed." Nick took her hand in his and they followed Michelle down to the entrance for the understage area, where the hot tub had been installed during a previous war. Contrary to her faction leader's decree, she hung around for a few minutes and watched Nick and Nat remove their socks and shoes, sit next to each other, and stick their feet into the warm bubbly water. In absolute silence, Nick then filled two glasses with champagne and passed one to Nat. Natalie picked out the largest chocolate coated strawberry she could find and held it to Nick's lips while he took a small bite. "I hope you're not allergic," she whispered. Nick then removed the drawing he had completed and presented it to Natalie. "It's me," Nat said, surprised. She nudged him with her elbow. "What was the word? Doctor? Woman?" Nick cut her off with a fleeting kiss. "Beautiful," he whispered. "MICHELLE!" Soulseeker shouted, interrupting her spying. "An hour of PRIVACY. Remember! Privacy is the most precious thing anyone could have during a War. You wouldn't want to deprive our favourite couple of that would you!!!" "Uh... no," Michelle replied, her face reddening. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I couldn't resist." Soulseeker and Michelle returned to the Lobby and joined up with the remaining N&Ners and their remaining Knightie and Natpacker guests. "Well, we've got at least an hour to kill before you have to leave," she said. "Pictionary, anyone?" --End-- Susan B. freestyle@idirect.com "That which you know, you ignore because it is inconvenient. That which you do not know, you invent." (Delenn, B5, TDoFS) From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8At-0006JS-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:27:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3770; Tue, 24 Aug 99 00:24:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8525; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:24:53 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:23:41 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Conversion Day 1999 02/07 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1ae4344772930ec653407a52a172b61a NA: Conversion Day 1999 02/07 by Patt Elmore and Cousin Jules When: Monday, August 23, 1999 Where: The Shrine of Nunkies Permission granted by all involved ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After a quick disappearing act, Jules appeared and ascended the podium, now dressed in her favourite "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend" outfit. An exact copy in every way, with the exception that her dress was a bright, blood red, rather than the Evil Pink seen in the movie from whence the song came. There was an almost stiff look to her gait, but the cause didn't appear to be the gown. Addicts pointed and wondered as she swooshed up to the microphone to begin her speech, and watched as the lights were lowered, and only a single light focused on the speaker's shoulders and above. "Ladies - and I use that term loosely - and gentlemen. Welcome to a very special night - the most important night of the NA calendar. It was on such a night as this, one thousand, nine hundred and twenty years ago, that the reason for this Shrine's existence came into his own, immortal existence. For it was on this date in 79 A.D. that the event occurred which hastened the coming across of that one, and that was the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, the volcano which still lies just east of Naples, and which will, no doubt, one day make its power felt again. "But we are not here to talk about what will happen, but to celebrate what *has* happened and how it has changed our lives - forever. "To much of the outside world, our little 'order' is something of a joke. We realise this, have no doubt," Jules continued as she smiled knowingly and several Addicts nodded their heads in recognition. "That's alright, though, because, you see, we know that it's not important who is laughing now, but who has the last laugh, a lesson we have learned from Lacroix himself. Let me just say that we welcome all of you who have chosen to be here at this time, and we applaude your open mindedness and your courage in taking up our invitation to celebrate with us tonight. "The ancient Roman empire was very much like many of the great political entities which exist today. There was great wealth, grand spectacle and shameless indulgence existing side by side with grinding poverty, inequality and violence. There were too many lawyers, too," added the Priestess, grinning, rousing a laugh from many of the guests, "but I'll save that for another time. "You're asking yourself, 'What does this have to do with Conversion Day? The day Lacroix became a vampire?' To that, I would say this: It reminds us that there is nothing erected which cannot be made to fall. No one so great that he cannot be humbled. No system so perfect that it can withstand the fury of nature or the inherent evil of the human psyche. We cannot control the world around us, but we all have choices. We can choose life or death. We can choose to live according to our principles or the shifting values of the fickle world around us. We can be true to ourselves, or we can live a lie. We can stay true to our word, or we can live in dishonour. The audience responded with applause and some murmuring as the HP stepped away from the podium. "What's first?" Patt looked at Bonnie anxiously as the Scribe perused a roughly written program. "Hmmmm, how about service badges?" "Sound's good. The Scouts are your baby, so go for it." Patt stepped back, handing Bons the microphone. As Bons presented the awards to the lucky Nunkies Scouts (which she will do when she returns in RL), Patt moved into the audience so that she could see the stage better. She did not notice the figure that moved to her side. "You're not on stage to garner your badge awards, Ms. Elmore?" Uncle's smooth voice was much too close to the Third Cousin's ear. "I . . . I . . . I"m not a Scout." Patt finally managed to say. LaCroix quirked that yummy eyebrow, making Patt feel faint. "Might I ask why?" "I . . . I . . . I just never had time to complete the assignments needed to earn them," Patt stammered. "And, I think I'd look silly in one of those shortie togas they wear." LaCroix considered this thoughtfully. "Point taken," he said finally, then he moved away. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 02/07 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8Aw-0001wu-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:27:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4963; Tue, 24 Aug 99 00:24:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8545; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:24:57 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:23:41 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Conversion Day 1999 01/07 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cb389c203544911e18972472a78286a6 NA: Conversion Day 1999 01/07 by Patt Elmore and MacCousin Heather When: Monday, August 23, 1999 Where: The Shrine of Nunkies Permission granted by all involved ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The daytime festivities drew to a close and Patt, like the other addicts and guests, moved into the Shrine. The renovations looked great, what had been completed. Granted, there were still plenty of rough edges, but Jules had been very involved in the discreet hanging of wall coverings and sliding of stray construction supplies into closets, so, all in all, the Shrine looked pretty good. In celebration of Nunkies' long life, guests had been asked to dress in a period costume from somewhere in his lifespan. Most of the addicts, of course, went for the traditional toga. Patt was no exception. She'd toyed with the idea of dressing in a period Nunkies uniform, then began to doubt whether LaCroix would enjoy being reminded of his past. The Third Cousin finally decided that blending in, rather than standing out, was more her style, so she opted for a simple beige tunic with ruffles at the neck and hemline. Having the day's festivities outside had been a wonderful idea. Patt smiled as she took the newly installed elevator from the third to the first floor. "Kept us from running into Revenue Canada and having to explain the activity." She sniffed, and her smile broadened as the smell of tar was barely noticeable. The lift door opened into the Shrine altar room and the full glory of Nunkies. Jules had outdone herself, once again, with the decorations. Patt walked over to the Jeweled Peach entrance way. The restaurant, which had been restored to pristine condition, had been closed the entire day, being prepared for the C-Day festivities. The individual tables and chairs had all been removed, replaced with divans and long tables designed to hold a bounty of food to be consumed in the traditional Roman style. Patt breathed in the aroma which wafted from the restaurant kitchen. Much of the scent had a distinctive Spanish flavor--a passion which Cabon seemed to have developed during the Vaquera occupation. Patt shook her head and headed back into the Shrine. In a corner of the large room, next to the altar itself, a large platform had been erected. As Patt had a hand in organizing the entertainment, she knew what talent would soon be displayed there. "It's gonna be killer," Bons walked up and joined Patt. "It promises to be a C-day never to be forgotten," Patt agreed. "Got the flash powder?" Bons grinned. "Yep. Got the paint?" Patt replied. "Oh, yeah. We're ready." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The evening festivities began promptly at 6 p.m., with the addicts surprisingly sober. Roman Candles, the NA drink of choice, were available in plenty, but most of the crowd found that they could have fun without the use of alcohol. The guests began arriving, filtering into groups and chatting over hors d'oeuvres. Cabon kept the waiters coming, their trays full of such Peach delicacies as veggie bars, Cherry Blossoms and Bonnie's famous cheesesticks. At some point, prior to the start of the first scheduled formal presentation, LaCroix arrived. Unnoticed by the crowd, the General decided that a quiet stroll through the Shrine was in order. LaCroix walked silently through the NA residence, noting the construction progress. As he moved into one of the empty anterooms, he heard a soft pat-pat of paws moving toward him. A large, amber-eyed, black cat trotted to him, a shiny mechanical pencil gripped in his teeth. Lucius stared up at LaCroix for a moment, purred loudly, then dropped the pretty shiny object at LaCroix's feet. 'Meowr- Rowerr!" the cat exclaimed. He batted the pencil closer to LaCroix. A smile flickered across LaCroix's face. He leaned over to pick up the mechanical pencil, and then ten other addict kitties ran to drop their toys and white roses at his feet. Their meows plaintive, they purred and curled themselves around his legs. Cousin Gwendolyn nudged his hand with her nose. Patoot, in hyper-kitty mode, leapt onto LaCroix's legs, knocking him over. Lucius meandered over to the General's other hand and bit him, purring as he nibbled. Meanwhile, Guinivere stepped on LaCroix's stomach and began to happily drool on him. The MacCousin wandered in and stared momentarily at a floor bound LaCroix as he became covered in cat hair. She tried not to giggle, but couldn't help it. Before she realized it, Heather had begun to laugh loudly. Cold blue eyes settled on her and she knew she was in for it. This was almost as bad as the time LaCroix had caught her and Sukh watching that other show. Heather rushed over to help him up, but it was too late. LaCroix was already standing and brushing off cat hair and drool. He stared at her, eyes peering into the depths of her soul. It left her without adjectives once again. "I won't forget this, Heather." The MacCousin's knees wobbled and she gulped. He only used her real name when he was either extremely pleased or she was in trouble. It was grout duty time for the MacCousin. She'd never get the stains out of her plaid toga now. Jules came to the anteroom door, beckoning LaCroix that his presence was needed elsewhere. He joined the HP and walked away, the purring kitties following behind him. Lucius purred as the MacCousin looked down at him and said, "Meesa gonna die!!!" "You might take a lesson from what just happened in that room," LaCroix was saying to Jules as he walked by the HP's side. "And what is that, LaCroix?" Jules gave the elder ex-vampire a side long glance. LaCroix lifted his hand, showing Jules the brightly colored mechanical pencil he held. "There are those who are happy to supply me with pencils, and those who are not can be replaced." He smiled wickedly, then strode ahead of her into the altar room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 01/07 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8BF-0001xL-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:27:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3774; Tue, 24 Aug 99 00:25:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8565; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:25:08 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:23:41 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Let the Games Continue 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c3b220af685ca8ffec3c0e8e6e5bd7e1 NA: Let the Games Continue 01/01 by Patt Elmore When: Monday, August 23, 1999 Where: The streets near NA Shrine Permission granted by all involved ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After the 5-K run officially kicked off the Conversion Day Festivities, addicts began circulating and taking part in a variety of street events. Games and booths had been set up, so that addicts and other faction members could explore the wonders of Nunkiness in every way, shape and fashion. One of the most watched activities was the first annual Camel Jousting event. Although this was not Roman, in the strictest sense of the word, it seemed a great shame not to use the War camels that several addicts were bequeathed at the end of the previous war. Thus, the joust was initiated. Clad in togas and holding large jousting poles, which resembled scaled down Roman columns, Glennis and Jesse took their places at opposite ends of the playing field. Glennis was astride her 1/3 of the camel that she and her cohorts had been gifted with at the end of War 9. She balanced the jousting pole carefully as Christy and Dee, her pit crew, gave her last minute instructions. "Go for the gut," Christy urged. Dee nodded. "She's a small target, and you need all the bull's- eye space you can get. Don't try to be fancy." Glennis nodded and flipped her helmet hood down. Urging her camel with her knees, Glen moved into position. "Just do your thing, kiddo," Patt said, giving Jesse's ankle a *good-luck* squeeze. "You'll do just fine." "Thanks, Patt," the teenager grinned down at the mature addict. "And, thanks again for letting me ride Tracy Camel." "Oh, trust me, Jess," Patt said, stroking Tracy's nose affectionately. "This little girl is much happier with you in the jockey position than she would be with me. Have fun." Jesse flipped down her protective face covering, gave Patt a thumb's up sign and moved to the starting line. As she did, the sideline crowd began to place bets. A little further down the street, several addicts and other festival goers were exploring the wonders of fandom. A display had been set up which involved life size plaster figures of the most popular Forever Knight characters--an inspiration conceived courtesy of Shele. The object of the game was to feel your way, blindfolded, and identify the figure you were groping. A correct guess won a plush FK toy; three correct guesses and you won a life sized Nunkies Pop--anatomically correct. At the moment, one of the NA's was busy letting her fingers do the walking. She'd already correctly guessed two of the statuettes, and was going for the grand prize. "Oh, the texture on this one is different, so smooth," Monica mumbled from beneath her blindfold. Her delicate fingers explored upward, reaching what she thought to be the nose. Most definitely Patrician, she thought. "Oh, this *has* to be Nunkies," she said triumphantly. Then, one of her fingernails hooked inside the nasal cavity of her art object. The finger went in *way* too deep for this to be the sculpted opening she thought she'd been examining. Someone giggled. Monica reached up quickly and tore the blindfold from her eyes. There, staring into her face was the *real* LaCroix, a bemused expression on his face and an addict finger lodged in his nose. Monica gulped and jerked her finger out as quickly as she could, without mutilating LaCroix's nasal passage. LaCroix held up his own forefinger, a now very serious expression on his face. "This . . . did . . . happen. And, I will remember the incident." He quickly turned and headed away, trailed by a flock of snickering addicts. "This is one of the definite disadvantages of his mortality," Monica pouted to Nite as the other addict approached her with a Wet Wipe . "At least when he was a vampire, you could play during the day without fear of him sneaking up on you." One of the most popular attractions, especially for the Knighties, the Vaqs, the NA's, the entire innocent populace of Toronto . . . (well, you get the idea), was the Dunking Booth. KC, dressed in a protective diving suit, was making a Calvin face at the person currently holding the softball. "Nyah!" she taunted. "You couldn't hit the broad side of a Dolt! You throw like a Knightie!" Infuriated by this taunt, Cousinly co-leader Tser hurled the sphere, only to hit the wall behind the jeering addict. "Ha!" KC crowed. "I knew it! You throw as well as Sammy Sosa--not!! On the next throw, Tser's softball found its mark, sending the addict and her taunts into the lukewarm water. KC came up sputtering, and hastily climbed back onto the platform to taunt anew. "Lucky shot!" she managed. "I bet you couldn't hit it again! Yeah, you make the Mariners look good!" A few more booths down, Madame Kiki was busily offering Body Painting to interested clients. She had several Buff Slave Boys modeling the art, which resulted in a line which, if stretched out, would reach from the Shrine to Merc Central. This annoyed the GHP so much that she offered Kiki a job . . . One of the favorites of the toga lasses was the Dunking for Peaches game. One of the fuzzy delicacies was rumored to have a prize inside, which involved LaCroix, an evening alone and whipped cream. The fine print, of course, advised the winner that she'd won an entry in a pie bake-off, but, addicts being addicts, didn't read the fine print. Back at the jousting . . . Jesse urged Tracy Camel forward again. This was the third and deciding run. Neither of the women had been unseated yet, but Glennis had managed to win the second set with a lucky tag to Jesse's thigh. Jesse, competitive sort that she is, was determined that Glennis would not prevail again. As the camels drew near, Jesse twisted her toga-ed body in such a manner that she was completely shielded by Tracy's bulk as they flew by. Glennis' blow hit the little camel's shoulder, but little else. With the speed of youth and the smaller camel, Jesse turned more quickly than Glen, and dashed back toward the older woman. Glennis had just managed to turn her camel, when she found Jesse upon her. Jesse's Roman jousting pole caught Glennis in the chest, unseating the Californian. Glennis went down with a thud. Triumphant, Jesse lifted her mask and allowed Tracy Camel a victory prance. The teenager caught sight of LaCroix in the crowd. The General was clapping and, catching Jess's eye, nodded his approval of her performance. Jesse beamed with pride. And, back at the Dunking Booth . . . KC was sent once again to her watery grave . . . errr, home by an enthusiastic pitch administered by Cousin Erik. KC dragged herself up a bit more slowly this time, and glared at the NunkaMale. "Hey, do I come to your parties and douse you with water 'til you're soaked to the bone?" Erik paused. "No . . ." he said. "Just you wait," KC growled menacingly. Despite the implied threat, or maybe because of it, Erik hurled the horsehide at the target, missing this time. KC chuckled in a most superior manner, prompting Eric to add more gusto to his pitch and take another, successful, shot. KC once again made a splash, as she does in all social occasions, and this time grinned at her antagonist. "You are learning well, grasshopper," she said. Erik nodded at the compliment. "Just remember," the wet addict continued. "I won't be in this tank forever, and I will find you." That thought appeared to be enough to impress Erik. He handed his remaining softball to Egrus Toga and walked very quickly away. KC smiled and greeted the next person in line. "Who else wants to be on my list? Does being trapped in the Frank-N-Forcer sound good to you?" Egrus *meeped* and dropped the ball. The line thinned out considerably. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the end 01/01 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8Ur-0002cE-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:47:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1571; Tue, 24 Aug 99 00:45:35 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9587; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:45:35 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 21:47:31 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA: Conversion Day 1999 (03/07) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 302e1d7a3f50ee1db3ecb47abd40339a NA: Conversion Day 1999 03/07 by Patt Elmore and KC Susan Nix When: Monday, August 23, 1999 Where: The Shrine of Nunkies Permission granted by all involved ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part of formal Roman dining, in addition to eating the meal on your tummy, includes entertainment. That's where Patt came in. In addition to her many duties associated with being Shrine construction liaison, she had been given the unenviable task of coordinating the organized C-day evening diversions. As the guests munched on their Elegant Chicken, Crawfish Florentine and Pulte's Winnipeg Goldeye, Patt begged their attentions to the five women now entering the room. "I have the pleasure tonight of offering you the debut performance of the Nunkies' Not So Vestal Dancers. Clad in the red dresses and veils of their order, the women advanced, clapping their hands overhead to the music which suddenly began playing. They parted, two forward, two back and one in the center, twirling and whirling as the tempo increased. "Aren't those some of the belly dancers from the Harem party the other night?" One of the guests was heard to whisper. "I think I recognize a few of those moves." Regardless if this was a premier performance or not, it was definitely an intriguing one. The attention of the entire room was focused on the dancing women as they parted again, each attending to one of the feast tables, dancing to one group of diners. One woman was for LaCroix. He tried to identify her through her heavy veil, but each time he felt recognition coming, it drifted away with her turn. The women shifted, and another dancer moved before Nunkies. LaCroix smiled, taking a long drink from the wine goblet before him. Memories flickered in his eyes. Then, his mouth went cold, his mind moving forward, wondering what the coming days would bring; what Nicholas would chose to do. He fingered the element necklace which he now possessed, thinking back to how he had obtained it. ***********Nunkies flashback*************** "The MacCousin was pleased with her gift, then?" LaCroix spoke with NunkMommy Annie during a brief telephone conversation. "I wasn't able to attend the shower, but Jules informed me that Heather was delighted," Annie replied. "But then again, you could have probably given her a rolling pen and she'd have been tickled." LaCroix had to smile at this, because he knew it to be true. "How . . . odd." LaCroix came immediately alert at Annie's words. "What is it, Ann?" "One of the Stable Fairies left me a box. Said it was insufficient payment for services rendered, and they demand further negotiation before they muck any more stalls." "What's in the box?" "I'm trying to open it, General. Give me a minute." A few omphs later, Annie's voice was recognizable again. "It's some kind of necklace. Looks kind of silver, with weird gold markings." One of the pieces of the puzzle> LaCroix thought. "Ann, please forward the item to me along with a written statement of the Fairies' demands. I will take care of it, personally." "Yes, sir," Annie agreed eagerly. "I'll come by and personally* give it to you." The NunkMommy had been true to her word and LaCroix now possessed one of the elements. ****************End Flashback**************** The dance ended also, amid the enthusiastic applause of the attentive audience. Still unidentified, the women pattered out of the room, but oddly, five minutes later, five addicts arrived late for dinner. LaCroix smiled as Arymede, Dee, Caren, Ivy and Bram took their places. "Next, we have a *demand* performance," Patt said, cringing somewhat. "KC has offered to demonstrate her prowess in martial arts with a brick breaking demonstration." "Wouldn't this have been more appropriate during the street festival?" LaCroix questioned Jules, who was, of course, lying on the divan next to him. "Yes, but she was tied up at the Dunking Booth all day," the HP replied. "Seems *everyone* wanted a shot at her." "I can't imagine why," LaCroix noted, taking another sip of his wine. At KC's prior request, Bons rose to introduce her. The Scribe called the crowd to attention, clapping her hands and whistling to the group. "Hear ye, hear ye!" she said enthusiastically. "You all know we addicts pride ourselves on our skills of self-defense, and you are about to see those skills in full force. Here to demonstrate her knowledge of martial arts, and, more importantly, to break thirteen blocks of solid stone, our own Pesky Addict, KC!" The crowd clapped politely as KC made her way into the center of the room. The addict, having completed her dunking booth duties, had dried off nicely and changed into the strangest hybrid of a toga and a karate gi. KC made an impressive leap into the air, and landed without a sound before the stone blocks, which her assistants had set up a few minutes before. The crowd gave an appreciative "oooooh". The addict performed a few warm-up exercises, chopping the air and making shrieks that would impress Bruce Lee. Finally, when she was ready, she stared down the blocks, shouted an ear-splitting "Hiiiiii-keeba!" and flew into action. Faster than the human eye could track, she reached into her toga/gi, pulled out her trusty Snixco diamond head baseball bat which she had affectionately nicknamed "The Nutcracker", and shattered the blocks in one swift stroke. The crowd stared for a minute. Finally a voice in the back said, "Hey! That's cheating!" KC only snorted. "You want martial arts? Go rent a Jackie Chan movie! The addict of today uses her brain, not her fists. Cunning, skill, and planning are what make us great. That and our recipes. We are warriors of the millennium! If you take only one lesson away from this demonstration, take this: don't trust an addict to do anything ordinary. We are far smarter than you give us credit for." Bons blinked for a minute, then said something not particularly scintillating and original. "Oh." Smirking, KC retired back to her dressing room as the crowd continued their supper. A short time later, she emerged in a most striking 18th century, Marie Antoinette-style dress. She straightened her powdered wig, smoothed her skirt, and joined the feast. "Musical interlude next," Patt announced. "I have no idea what she wants to sing, but she said it is very much in keeping with original Conversion Day events. So, without further ado . . . Glennis and her Lyre." Glennis entered the room, seating herself with great dignity, and placed the Lyre on her lap. Strumming a few chords, she opened her mouth and spoke. "I have had the dubious pleasure of being part of two wars now, and being part of Nunkies Anonymous for several years. And, yes, my marriage is still intact." She winked at the MacCousin. "Part of the joy of being in NA has been making the acquaintance of the talented people who belong to this organization. In recognition of that talent, I'd like to sing several filks. "Where were you on Karioke night, then?" Nite called out. "Practicing for the big time," Glennis responded to the heckler. Then she smiled at LaCroix. "For Nunkies . . ." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 03/07 patt79ad@juno.com MacCousin Heather Keeper of the MacNunkies Tapestry http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/ ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Tue Aug 24 00:56:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8bN-0007Eo-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:54:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1590; Tue, 24 Aug 99 00:52:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9833; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:52:19 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 21:54:15 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA: Conversion Day 1999 04/07 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 40af088c99c61488b1788de82dec1b10 NA: Conversion Day 1999 04/07 by Patt Elmore with filks by Bons and Patt When: Monday, August 23, 1999 Where: The Shrine of Nunkies Permission granted by all involved ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Glennis touched the lyre, the tune soon recognizable. "White Choral Bells?" Patt said, giving Bons an odd look. Then her eyes flew open in shocked surprise. "She's planning to sing my private *Windchime* filk!" Patt fully intended to stop Glennis. She was up and headed for the California addict, but a stare from Nunkies stopped her. Patt could read it in the General's eyes: sit down. She did, but she wasn't happy. "This was written by Patt," Glennis confirmed the Third Cousin's fears "Dedicated to Nunkies." "See the sacred windchimes, hanging in the door. They tell us that fertile fields are plowed once more. When the hot wind blows, you can hear them ring. That's when all the NA's let their dear hearts sing. They think of Lucius, lying in repose. Many see him barely clad from head to toes. Then a stiff wind sighs, and the tone is clear. The sweet voice of *Uncle* singing in our ear. Oh to just touch it, hanging there so bright. But how many of us truly hope to reach that height? So it just dangles, ever out of reach, As we sing its praises and go on to teach All the new Vestels, though we are not so, We vow to make it certain that it's never low. May the mighty windchimes ever on high be waving in the August Air, for all to see." Glennis took her bow to rather gusty hoots and hand-clapping. Patt, meanwhile, sought a low place to crawl into. "He's gonna think I'm a pervert," the mature addict muttered. "Think?" Bons grinned at Patt's discomfort. "Trust me, he knows." Patt was about to retort when Glennis began speaking again. "My next selection was written by our own dear Scribe, Bons. Again, I dedicate this to LaCroix." This time, to Bons' horror, the tune being strummed was Blowin' in the Wind. " How many days must we spend alone before the Gen'ral spends time? How many pleas must the Addicts make before he sleeps in the Shrine? How many times must we fake paper cuts before we're honey and wine? The answer my friend, is blowin' in the wind. The answer is blowin' in the wind. How many times must a Lucius repose before he reveals a bit o' knee? How many cups can some Addicts' drool fill before they melt Nunklear-ly? How many times can LaCroix turn his head and pretend that he just doesn't see? The answer my friend, is blowin' in the wind. The answer is blowin' in the wind. How many times must the Addicts peek up his toga to see some more thigh? How many ears must one vamp have before he can hear Vestals cry? How many dawns will it take til he knows that too many Addicts have sighed? The answer my friend, is blowin' in the wind. The answer is blowin' in the wind." More applause, more chuckles, quite a few heads turning to stare at Bonnie Rutledge. Bons went into her shrinking routine again, probably a by-product of her leaky valve. Fred, who had been sitting quietly under LaCroix's table, hoping for a dropped crawfish, began to bark. "How did Glennis get that stuff?" Bons asked Patt, who was busy signaling for Fred to hush. "I have no idea, unless she's consorting with Vachon." "That would explain it, wouldn't it?" "Yea . . . also explains how she got a camel last year." "We'll have to deal with this later, 'cause looks like she's gonna sing again." "Wonder which one of us she's going to filk this time?" "Probably the wordiest." "Which one of us would that be?" Patt shrugged. But, in her heart she knew. She mentally closed her ears and prayed for quick death. Glennis smiled at the crowd and began playing the tune to "Itsie Bitsy Spider." "The big, mean ole volcano Blew off it's little peak Down in the valley Folk could hardly speak Up in the air the ash began to fly and the meany ole volcano made the Pompeiis cry In a little brothel in the little town was a mighty Gen-ral Known best for his frown. When ole Vulcan shouted The Gen-ral shouted back, "Ye Gods are not my master and I will fend attack" But the mighty Gen-ral forgot his progeny enter daughter Div-ya with her grin of glee "Father, do come with me and we will never die" Her eyes turned lemon yellow As she looked at Daddy's thigh Then mighty Lucius answered with irk in every note "I choose to live, dear daughter" And that is when she smote her daddy with a liplock upon his tender neck And the Gen-ral became Uncle and began his ageless trek So here's to Conversion Day and all the fun implied Cause we would have no FK if Lucius would have died We owe it to a rumble inside Vesuvius That we got our own dear Nunkies and Nunkies--he got us." Pandemonium in the dining room!!! Feasters jumped to their feet, stomping and shouting in approval and glee. Patt opened her eyes and stared at them. Even the Nick and Natpackers were grinning. But . . . what of LaCroix? Patt attempted to covertly glance in Uncle's direction, trying to judge his response. All she saw were his pants legs. "Oh, heck in a handbag, he's coming this way!" Patt whispered to the Scribe. "Quit shrinking and help me out here." Bonnie "meeped" and gave one final gasp as Nunkies' legs stopped in front of them. Then went past them to stand by Glennis' side. LaCroix reached down, clasped the singer's hands in his own and kissed them gently. "Exquisite, my dear," he complimented a blushing Glennis. "A voice to rival the Muses." Then, he walked away as if to return to his seat, only to pause again in front of the hiding addicts. He never stooped, never turned, but spoke so that only they could hear. "Clever." Bons stopped shrinking and began to inflate. Patt pinched her ear, felt pain and decided it might be safe to resume her position as emcee. "And that," Patt informed the crowd, "ends the entertainment." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 04/07 patt79ad@juno.com ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Tue Aug 24 01:06:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8hu-0005Rd-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:01:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3881; Tue, 24 Aug 99 00:59:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0300; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:59:01 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 22:00:55 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA: Conversion Day 1999 05/07 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2a08aeaff998dd8bd1f35781a979576a WAR: NA: Conversion Day 1999 05/07 by Patt Elmore When: Monday, August 23, 1999 Where: The Shrine of Nunkies Permission granted by all involved ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As the evening progressed, most of the guests headed for the ballroom to dance or continue mingling. The Temperate Toenotes, enjoying their new status as an adult-oriented rock band, traded places with the tax party's polka band and began taking requests. "Things seem to be going okay," Patt commented as she joined Bons at the wetbar. Between sips of her third whisky sour, the Scribe nodded. "Just peachy. Better than even you expect." "Hmmmm, those kind of statements usually precede earth shattering events," Patt noted, taking a sip from her recently arrived bourbon and Coke. Bonnie looked at Patt's choice of drink with suspicion. "No beer?" "Not allowed within 100-yards of LaCroix," Patt reminded the petite red-head. "Now, what were you, LaCroix and Schanke discussing when your were clustered together earlier?" Bonnie just replied with a grin, and touched her finger to her lips. Then, knowing that she can't keep secrets for long, Bonnie sidled away from the Third Cousin. Patt turned and put her back to the bar, her eyes wandering over the group of people. LaCroix was easy to spot, looking as dapper as usual in his impeccable Armani . He was graciously asking the ladies to dance, giving special consideration to those representing other factions. At the moment, he was holding one of the Cousins. The General leaned over and whispered something in the woman's ear, causing her to blush deeply. "Evening, Patt." Laura of the Dark Perks took position at Patt's side, ordering an O'Douls . "How's my favorite drinking buddy doing?" "It's been worse, Laura," Patt replied, smiling at the other woman. "Is it me, or do you seem to be hanging out with the NA more this war?" Laura remained non-committal, choosing to just returned the Third Cousin's smile. "LaCroix does look dashing doesn't he? Mortality doesn't seem to have phased him a bit." "Haven't been around him enough to notice," Patt replied, watching as LaCroix now moved Glennis around the dance floor. "It's odd, though, not to have him popping in all the time to taunt us. He's been very mellow, as far as I've seen." "And this upsets you?" Laura asked, picking up on Patt's odd tone of voice. "No," Patt said, taking another sip of her drink. "But it does *bother* me. I like consistency, and LaCroix as mortal is inconsistent to my universe. It's kind of like having a predatory feline neutered and his becoming docile. You keep waiting for him to turn and bite you when you least expect it." "Better not let Uncle hear you use his name and the word *neuter* in the same sentence," Laura warned playfully. "You might see those claws earlier than you expected." "Point taken," Patt grinned. "Engaging in conversation with you after one drink appears to be dangerous, Laura. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go sit at that table and do my best to stay out of trouble. Enjoy the party." The Third Cousin edged her way through the crowd, taking a place at a table occupied by three other addicts. Ivy, Monica and Caren were watching as Nunkies glided Bram across the dance floor. "He *is* divine," Ivy breathed. She had her elbows on the table, chin propped in her hands, watching the General's every move. "What's with Bram's pointy hat?" Patt said. "I think it's a statement," Caren offered. "That she's planning to *bewitch* LaCroix tonight." The other three women groaned at the Louisiana woman's joke. "Those kind of punny remarks are reserved for me," Patt noted, launching a scrap of napkin at Caren. The dark-haired woman ducked. "I guess I've just been hanging around you too long." "Talk about hanging on," Monica interjected. "Check out who Supaige is hanging on to. Our own resident tax pain, Pectin." Patt looked up, startled. Sure enough, near the middle of the dance floor, Supaige and Alfred Pectin were locked in a swaying embrace. Patt's cheeks flared. She fought the jealous moment down, but not before Caren noted it. "Why don't you just go ask him to dance?" Caren inquired as Patt took a stiff belt from her freshened drink. "I don't dance," Patt replied. "Are you interested in Pectin?" Ivy looked at Patt, this new conversation drawing her attention from Nunkies. "No," Patt replied, her nose buried in her glass. Caren gave the mature addict a *be truthful* look. "Well, maybe." "He's a former Mountie," Caren explained to Monica and Ivy. "Oh." Both women nodded in understanding. "Getting too deep into my personal space," Patt noted cattily as she rose from the table. "Time to mingle elsewhere." The Third Cousin began prowling the outer rim of the dance area, watching Pectin. He danced two sets with Supaige, then appeared to be searching the room. Patt ducked behind a column so that he wouldn't catch her spying on him. "Aren't we a little old for Hide-n-Seek?" a familiar voice addressed the addict. Patt turned to find Cousinly co-leader, Tser, observing her with twinkling eyes. "From your actions, one might suspect that LaCroix had become vampiric again. Has he?" "Not to my knowledge, fellow leader." Patt had to grin. "No, LaCroix isn't responsible for my surreptitious activity at the moment." "Ahhhh, a case of intrigue in the making." Patt shrugged. "Not really . . . just a case of irk at myself for allowing my heart to make me act foolishly." Tser responded with an extremely interested expression. "An addict in love? Have you gotten past your fear of LaCroix and finally entered the stages of romance? Or, has another stolen your heart and Nunkies been pushed to the side. Please elaborate." Patt shook her head. "No, nothing like that. I just have a mild case of possible prurient interest is all. Nothing special." "Ahhhhhh," Tser responded thoughtfully, then she brightened with a new thought. "Thank you for seeing to Gwendolyn, by the way. She said that you took very good care of her." "My pleasure," Patt smiled, her eyes catching a glimpse of the be-togaed cat as she came running toward her mistress. "She must have heard you call her name." "Probably," Tser agreed, catching the cat up in her arms. "Both of us have been so busy with our personal missions that we haven't had time together." "Well, I'll leave you to share a private moment." Patt laughed as the cat began batting Tser's chin. "See you later." Patt turned abruptly, intending to return to the wetbar. As she did, she came face to face with black silk. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 05/07 patt79ad@juno.com ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Tue Aug 24 01:11:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8oZ-0007ji-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:08:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3920; Tue, 24 Aug 99 01:05:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0803; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:05:55 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 22:02:31 -0700 Reply-To: Glennis Lyke Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Glennis Lyke Subject: WAR: NA: Conversion Day 1999 06/07 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ed50bdbdcf0e868d23ecfd8df456e541 NA: Conversion Day 1999 06/07 by Patt Elmore When: Monday, 11 p.m. August 23, 1999 Where: The Shrine of Nunkies Permission granted by all involved ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Patt's eyes moved slowly upward until she was staring into that familiar shade of ice blue. "I just wanted to compliment you on your part in making these festivities a success," LaCroix said, looking down at the mature addict. "Uncharacteristic, and thus, quite pleasing." Patt didn't know whether to stay or run. Unsolicited compliments from LaCroix scared the crawhookies out of her. "Would you care to dance?" The elder ex-vampire extended his hands in invitation. Patt blinked. How was she going to advise him that partaking in such an action in a post written by her bordered much too closely on the dreaded Mary Sue phenomena. Better to send him back to Jules, or Annie or even Bonnie. "I don't . . . dance," Patt finally managed to stammer. "Everyone dances," LaCroix said firmly. "With the right . . . guidance." Patt felt giddy, chilled. She could only manage to shake her head and hoped it would be perceived as polite. "You're refusing my invitation?" The statement was veiled, full of hidden meanings. Was the rejection because he was no longer a vampire? Was Patt's loyalty in question? The mature addict looked up into his eyes again, pleading. "I'd step on your foot." LaCroix considered this for a moment. "Which could, I suppose, result in injury in my present state. So, you're saying that your declining to dance with me is for my own protection?" Patt nodded, hopeful. "I don't believe it for a moment," LaCroix said, miffed. "A stone can dance--with the proper partner. I will thusly demonstrate." With those words, the General turned on his heal and marched over to where Shele was propped against a divan, sipping whisky sours through a straw. In a few moments LaCroix was dragging the cemented addict across the dance floor. "They make a cute couple," Jesse remarked, walking up to the Third Cousin. Patt didn't answer the teenage addict. She was too busy reflecting on what she had just given up. A chance to be in Nunkies' arms. A chance to have his hand in the curvature of her spine, to have him bending near her ear, whispering confidences to her. Patt shivered. Relief washed over the Third Cousin. Talk about close calls. "Partner Limbo!" someone shouted. The dancing pairs immediately formed a line for the opportunity of breaking their backs trying to negotiate under a bar held by Bonnie and Erik. Egrus Toga quickly paired with Cousin Gwendolyn and rolled over to the end of the column, determined to defend his title. It came to pass that LaCroix and Shele reached the front of the line. The addicts and other guests clapped and cheered as Nunkies bent low, pulling a happily *mmffftttting* Shele with him. "I bet he'd be a hoot in agility," Patt observed to Jess. Then, something happened. As LaCroix passed under the limbo stick, he jiggled. The element necklace dislodged from his pocket and dropped into one of Shele's air orifices, the silver chain wriggling behind it. Shele began to squirm within her cast, crying out in muffled gasps. As LaCroix came out of the limbo move, he flexed his knees to arise. Shele, the necklace tickling worse than the peas, uttered a smothered shriek and began thrashing inside her plastered enclosure. Caught by surprise, LaCroix lost his hold and the Poet Laureate *clonked* loudly to the ground. She proceeded to roll under the bar and beyond, picking up speed as she went. At least three people swore that they heard LaCroix say, "Whoops," but all declined to testify later. Shele's revolving path took her directly toward, and eventually through, the entrance way into the Jeweled Peach. The busboys were busily cleaning off the feasting tables and moving divans, preparing for the Wednesday lunch crowd. Shele scored a seven out of a possible ten. Cabon, hearing the commotion, burst from the JP kitchen. Eyes settling on Shele, he shouted "La Pinata," apparently suffering a Spaniard-induced case of post traumatic stress disorder. Three addicts managed to lift Shele, intent on whisking her away from harm, but Cabon pursued them back into the Shrine. He caught sight of KC's diamond bat, which she had carelessly left lying in a corner of the altar room, and, grabbing up the rod, Cabon began bludgeoning the hapless Poet. As Erik and Bons tried to pull Cabon off Shele, there was a loud explosion overhead, followed by a deep growling sound. One festivity participant standing near the window announced, "It's snowing." "That doesn't look like snow," another commented. "More like ash." "VOLCANO!!" Ergus Toga cried out loudly. LaCroix hit the floor. Jules joined him. "It's not ash," another party goer announced. It's feathers." "Aren't the workmen on the roof tonight?" Jules asked casually from her prone position on the marble tiling "Do you think they dropped something . . . again?" The growling continued to grow louder and louder until, finally, it was just outside the altar room/hallway entrance. With a dramatic throwing open of the door, Kriel burst into the room. His legs were covered with gooey black substance, dotted here and there by goose down. "Some damn bird just blew up!" the construction foreman yelled viciously, his eyes surveying the room for signs of guilt. "And, since some unauthorized person or persons tried to tar the damn roof last night, my crew was trying to fix it just now. We're all covered with crap and I demand to know who is responsible!!" Kriel's use of such words in a PG-13 story indicated that he was pretty peeved. Everyone in the room looked properly shocked . . . except for two or three. Caren and Supaige had already ducked under the table, so it was Patt whom Kriel's eyes finally fell upon. "You're history," he snarled. "As I have been reminded time and time again," Patt replied, already running for her life. She said a silent prayer of thanks to the powers that Kriel did not possess vampiric speed. "Just tell me one thing before I die, Mr. Kriel. Was Spark among those who got gooped?" Kriel never answered, intent only on catching and decapitating the Third Cousin. Patt's headstart, however, was just the time she needed. She darted through the kitchen/lab swinging doors and quickly ducked into the cabinet leading into the maze of Ratpacker tunnels. The muck-covered ex-vampire was standing at the tunnel entrance when Bonnie and Erik caught up to him. "You're not going after her?" Bonnie gasped for breath from the dash. "You decided, as we always do, that the whole incident was an accident and you forgive her?" "Not hardly," Kriel snapped, then looked back into the tunnels, frowning. "It's just that without my vampire powers, I can't see in the dark." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 06/07 patt79ad@juno.com From - Tue Aug 24 01:11:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8q3-00036L-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:09:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3925; Tue, 24 Aug 99 01:07:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0865; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:07:30 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:02:24 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: NA: CHARIOTS ON FIRE (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c6c276ab2ea9b8f6add818eb8181ede3 WAR: NA: CHARIOTS ON FIRE (01/01) by Laurie MercBard, who can't believe she's consorting with the enemy Beta-ed by Patt Elmore--who is very pleased to have her *aboard.* A passerby might have been forgiven for thinking that the Toronto chapter of the Roman Empire War Recreation Society was having a meeting in front of the Shrine, or at the least, that someone was filming a re-make of Spartacus. The Conversion Day Chariot Race was due to begin. The strenuous activities that had already taken place had barely made a dent in the participants' enthusiasm. Many of the factions had worked long and hard on their chariots and it showed in the astonishing designs on display before the Shrine, which you can all read more about in the follow up posts. Once more, HP Jules signaled to LaCroix that he could begin the race. Once more, LaCroix raised the daisy toga. Just as he was about to drop the toga, there was some movement in the front chariot lines. Two dozen rats ran out from between the first line of vehicles and took off down the chariot route. The horses, spooked, immediately followed. The chariot race had begun. - finis - From - Tue Aug 24 01:16:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8rE-00003z-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:10:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3929; Tue, 24 Aug 99 01:08:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0918; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:08:41 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 22:05:17 -0700 Reply-To: Glennis Lyke Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Glennis Lyke Subject: WAR: NA: Conversion Day 1999 07/07 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d4d1aaae70e1a30ad83502fc175c4c8f NA: Conversion Day 1999 07/07 by Patt Elmore and Cousin Jules with input by Laurie MercBard When: Monday, August 23, 1999 Where: The Shrine of Nunkies Permission granted by all involved ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jules stared at the vanishing Patt, Kriel, Bons and Erik. Then she looked over at LaCroix, who still lay on the floor beside her. To her left, where Erik and Bons had deserted their post, Cabon continued to pummel Shele's cast with the baseball bat. She looked back at LaCroix, who shrugged, and buried his head in his folded arms. "Well, that was exciting." Laurie, Grand High Poobah of the Mercenaries moved to stand in front of the prone HP and General. She was grinning ear to ear with fiendish pleasure. "I must remember to arrive late to parties more often." Well, you can't keep a good vampire down for long, even if he is an ex. LaCroix was on his feet in a moment, his hand attached to the GHP's arm. "I want to speak to you." "Say 'please'," the GHP replied with a smirk. "I have it all on film." She tilted her head toward Merc Beth, who offered Uncle a little wave. LaCroix licked his lips. "I have a proposition for you, Laurie. I suggest you listen and take it seriously." Even as a mortal sprawled on the floor, LaCroix had certain charisma--gave off a lot of powerful vibes. With his warm hand clutching her arm, the GHP was quite intrigued. "I'm listening, Nunkie." LaCroix winced. "Come with me," he ordered. As LaCroix escorted Laurie from the room, Jules started to follow. LaCroix turned on her, his eyes full of warning. "This is private. See to your other guests." Jules stopped, staring at the duo. The GHP smirked as she and LaCroix disappeared into the anteroom hallway. The GHP's evil Fanfic Fairy, F. Hugh *poofed* into existence, gave Jules a wet raspberry, and *poofed* away again. In one of the anterooms, LaCroix released his hold on the MercBard and faced her. "We're on even ground, Laurie," he began. "Uneven," she corrected. "I'm much stronger than you now." "If you insist," he sighed. "You're giving up that easily?" The GHP suddenly became serious. "That's not like you." "I haven't slept in nine days and, as a mortal, I find the condition tiring. I seem to be losing my staff right and left and, after I come into possession of one of the element pieces, I lose it." "Mortality is a pain, isn't it?" "I don't plan to confide much more to you, MercBard," LaCroix said sternly. "I want to know if you are for hire?" The GHP's ears perked and her eyes saw dollar signs. "You want to hire a MERC?" "I want to hire you," LaCroix corrected. "As you are aware, those Dark Perk Thuggies stole *my* tapestry last War and are refusing to give it back. Plans to arrest them failed, as an original theft report was never filed. One of the credos I lived by during original mortality is, if you cannot possess the prize, destroy it. Interested?" "Yes," the GHP nodded. She had really wanted to write the tapestry recovery story, but her plans had been thwarted. She liked the way LaCroix thought. But then again, she always had. "Very much so." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In the main altar room, Jules stared in the direction where LaCroix and Laurie had disappeared. Then, she gazed toward where five addicts had finally dragged Cabon away, leaving a cracked Shele. Ted was pulling pieces of plaster off the Poet, who, once free, hugged her beloved. Shele then caught up the element necklace which had caused her such distress and tossed it into the large ice sculpture/fountain which dominated the buffet area. Feeling eyes staring at her, Jules turned regally and faced the rest of her *guests.* She grabbed a wine glass from a passing waiter, took a large gulp, cleared her throat then spoke to the crowd. "I myself have learned a great deal from many gems of wisdom during my tenure as High Priestess," Jules said, now giving a well-aimed look at Lacroix as he reentered the room, the GHP at his side. "I've learned that, no matter how hard one sometimes tries, it just will never be good enough for some people. Take the world of...employment, for instance. Truly, a losing battle." Jules smiled sweetly, though you could tell it was nothing but good humour, before adding, "but as another old saying goes, 'He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day.' While I am not exactly running away, I shall be taking an indefinite leave of absence from Toronto and, therefore, my duties at this Shrine and *another place.* I leave, in each of my places, our beloved Scribe, Bonnie. I know she will handle matters with efficiency and care. And, if she doesn't, there's always the Day Spa. "In closing, I would just like to once again say thanks to all of you for attending our Conversion Day celebration. I hope that you have enjoyed the festivities, have long and rewarding lives, and may you never forget what this day is all about. A celebration of life and changes. Happy Conversion Day, everyone!!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The end 07/07 patt79ad@juno.com From - Tue Aug 24 01:16:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8uB-00008R-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:13:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1697; Tue, 24 Aug 99 01:11:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1033; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:11:44 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 22:18:24 -0700 Reply-To: Shele Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shele Subject: WAR: NA - Feathered Friends To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f80369d3a65dbadf407cf55e2ea9499b Feathered Friends (1/1) By Susan Nix Cabon used with permission. Time: The day before Conversion Day, about 6 p.m. Place: The kitchen of the Jeweled Peach Cabon was not having a good day. Besides having to endure this excruciatingly silly and evil war, the addicts mooning over this Erik guy, and having to watch over KC's foisted Goodyear blimp (which would be enough for any Frenchman), the gaspachio soup was causing complaints from the Peach's clientele. Cabon stormed over to Gaston, the soup chef, and demanded an explanation. "What ees weeth ze gaspachio today?" he said vehemently. The cook took offense to Cabon's tone. "My soup ees beeyond compere!" Gaston said indignantly. "Zeese peegs in zere do nut know good food when eet enters their feelthy mouths!" "Your soup is garbage! Eye would nut feed thees to the worst addeect!" Cabon countered. "Ewe leeve Tiffany out of zeese! We are een luv!" Gaston bellowed, shaking Cabon by his shoulders. "We weel marry someday soon!" Unfortunately, Gaston shook Cabon hard enough to dislodge the blimp's remote control out of Cabon's jacket pocket. It landed with an ominous 'plop' right in the tureen of gaspachio soup. At first, nothing happened. Then the remote began to fizzle slightly. Finally, a bolt of blue flame flashed into the air and the remote was rendered into a black, ashy mess, dissolving into the soup. The two Frenchmen stared at each other for a terrified moment. After a moment, Cabon said only one phrase. "Oh, crepe." Miles away, in the clear Toronto sky, the blimp began to list to the right. Then to the left. In a most unexpected turn of events, the blimp exploded into a huge fireball. The blimp disintegrated, save for the payload of feathers, which scattered like Pompeiian ashes over the whole city. They covered the Dark Perk mansion. They blanketed CERK. They smothered the Church. They carpeted the Happy Souvlaki. They covered almost every inch of Toronto. (we're talking a lot of feathers here) Finally, and most tragically, they covered the Shrine roof, where the addicts were tarring. KC ran frantically into the kitchen, skidding on the smooth floor. "Did I just hear what I think I heard"? she asked. The two Frenchmen nodded mutely. "And that fireball in the sky wasn't Haley's comet?" she asked with a tremor in her voice. The two men nodded again. "I see. If y'all will excuse me, I'm going to hide in the Shrine until this whole thing blows over." With that, the blonde left a trail of fire into the Shrine, eager to find a place where she could hide from her irate sisters in drooling. The end! MUAHHAHA! From - Tue Aug 24 06:34:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J8y3-0003Ky-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:17:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5133; Tue, 24 Aug 99 01:15:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1148; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:15:47 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 22:17:41 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR:Nothers: A Nother Duck Day Afternoon 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: df440b533ceff2ed5a759c146ae7f5e4 Title: A Nother Duck Day Afternoon 01/01 written by: mostly by Fleurette with lots of comments from Liz Time: after "A Nother Day's Journey" and "What's a 5K When You Have a 6.1K Hard Drive?" Place: outside the Shrine to Nunkies Disclaimers: all real people used by permission. Daf used because he's not real and he's ours. No ducks harmed in the makin gof this post. ************* Fleurette and her mother waved to the rest of the Nothers as the found themselves gathered into the corwd getting ready to run or walk in the 5K race. They were wearing purple t-shirts with the Nothers "N" on the front and comfortable shorts. NightDancer and Daf waved back. Liz and Kat were setting up a what looked like a mini-home: lawn chairs with a table and a big umbrella. Kat saw them wave and nudged her co-hort. They both waved back. About this time, Fleurette noticed that Nunkies was standing where he could easily be seen. "Look, Mom! It's Nunkies!" she said. As her Jeanne looked toward the former vampire, he dropped what appeared to be a yellow toga and the crowd in front of them began to move forward. "I guess we're going," Jeanne commented, clutching her water bottle. There *were* going. And in good company. Ahead of them, the two Nothers could see the group of runners from Nunkies Anonymous and some RatPackers. "*That's* Screed!?" Jeanne exclaimed as her daughter pointed out the former carouche. "What on earth does Libby see in him?" Fleurette shrugged. "He's a nice of enough guy, if a little odd," she told her mom. They began to walk forward, despite the fcat that most people were running. *********** After walking for what seemed like forever, they finally began to circle the park. Up ahead of them, they could see the duck pond. It was in a cool, shaded area. By this time, Fleurette was getting hot and very tired. Walking a 5K race was not the thing for a pregnant person to do, even one who was only mildly pregnant. "Do you want to stop?" her mother asked. "No, I can manage," she said. "After a slight rest." Theyd decided to take a five minute break to catch their breath. As they did, the ducks came up to the edge of the pond and quacked excitedly at them. Fleurette spoke back to them. "Quack quack quack?" asked one. "We're in a race," Fleurette replied. "Quack quack quack quack," he relayed to his ducky friends. When Jeanne and Fleurette got ready to leave, they heard the fluttering of feathers and lots of duck voices quacking enthusiastically. They turned to look. Behind them, the ducks had gathered and had begun to waddled along, as well. "I guess they want to race, too," Jeanne commented. *********** They were just passing the soccer field when a ball came flying out at them from a game in progress. Jeanne caught it, pausing to heave it at the young man who'd run after it. He waved in thanks and sprinted back to his game, but not before he gaped at the ducks following behind the two women. There must have been fifteen of them at the least. *********** The finish line was in sight. Surprisingly, there were still people waiting for them. Jeanne had figured that they would be so late that no one would be there. Instead, they discovered the rest of the Nothers, plus a few other people who had heard rumors of the racing ducks. Just as Fleurette and her mom were about to cross the finish line together, the ducks gave a united **QUACK!** and suddenly took to the air. They flew in wonderous formation about the two Nothers and crossed the finish line just in time to win by a nose... ah! bill. As Fleurette and Jeanne got over the shock of being beaten by birds, ducks and people alike crowded around them "Where'd you get the duckies?" Liz asked. She was cuddling a small female in her arms. "and can we keep them?" ************ FIN Fleurette Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 24 06:34:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J92T-0003hQ-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:22:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3951; Tue, 24 Aug 99 01:20:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1273; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:20:16 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:22:06 EDT Reply-To: TheLadyT@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "L.J. Conk" Subject: War: UF: "Let Me ... [BLEEP] For A While" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 639fed4027a314232bd1136873a1eeb2 War: UF: "Let Me ... [BLEEP] For A While" By Lora C. Time--Monday morning, Aug. 23, before the Conversion Day festivities Location: The Hive, UF HQ Vaquero Rae used with permission--the post is pretty much her idea anyway.=20 Special thanks to Julia and Leslie for their valuable input! Lora answered the doorbell and signed for a rather large package. The card=20 on the outside of the box read: "For Lora, and the other UFers. Love, Rae" "Did you get it?" Jules asked, nodding to the box in Lora's arms "Just arrived," Lora said with a smirk. "I still think you're nuts," Jules added. "It's a wacky idea!" "But I gotta try. I promised Rae," Lora replied with enthusiasm. "She said=20 it's cutting edge technology: fuzzy logic!" "That sounds appropriate." Megan bounded in. "Is it here? Are we gonna do it?" she asked excitedly. "We're gonna try," Lora replied with a smile. "Can you get the others so we=20 can test it?" "Great! Be right back!" And off Megan went. "Do you need help with that thing?" Jules asked her friend as they headed=20 toward the Blue Room to test the equipment. "Give me that," she said as she=20 took the heavy box from Lora, who was beginning to look a little paler than=20 usual. "Thanks, didn't realize it was so heavy," Lora said, rubbing her arms and=20 leading the way. Once in the Blue Room, the two set up the machine as UFers wandered in and=20 took their seats. Jules plugged it in, then nodded to Lora. She flipped the=20 switch. The UFers waited attentively. "Shall we give it a little test?" Lora asked the crowd with a flourish. "Yes!" the assembled group replied in unison. Lora spoke one word: "[BLEEP]." "Oh, [BLEEP]," said Jules. She paused, in awe. "Wow. That thing really=20 *does* work!" "So," a very pleased Lora said to the assemblege, "Let's try it out on some=20 UFfish fiction. What shall I read to you?" Shan waved her arm. "How about '[BLEEP] This'--the one you and Jules wrote=20 in chat a few months ago. I just loved that one! Didn't you two have LaCroi= x=20 [BLEEP] Nick with [BLEEP] [BLEEP] to a [BLEEP]? Hey, why did that 'bleep' me= ?" The crowd looked at Lora sternly. *They* knew Shan hadn't said anything wron= g=20 in that last sentence. "I ... ummm ... uh ... well ..." Lora stammered, trying to figure out the=20 experimental censoring device. "It's designed not only to ensure that=20 everything is PG-13, but to bleep out any innuendo, so ... maybe it wasn't s= o=20 much the words as the context, Shan. I mean, we all know that the word 'bed'=20 is okay, and so are 'silken' and 'tie' and even 'cords.' I mean, it didn't=20 bleep me when I said them again right now, right?" "Let me see this thing," Jules said, pushing past Lora to get at the=20 machine's controls. "You must have it set for G, not PG-13." Jules fiddled=20 with the controls as the machine continued to "bleep" at nearly every other=20 word she uttered. "This is NUTS!" she cried, getting up in frustration. "It's okay, Jules," Lora said, putting a comforting arm around her friend. =20 "We're just playing here. Why don't you just go grab a beer while I try to=20 readjust the machine one more time?" "Oh, all right!" her friend said quietly and went to get her beer. As Lora rummaged through the carton, looking for the instructions, Jules=20 popped a tab on a cold one, then moved to stand by a nearby bookshelf. =20 Something attracted her eye. "Hey Lora!" she said, holding up a sheaf of=20 papers. "How about 'Submarine Races'?" A chorus of yes's was heard from the assembled UFers. "Oh, yes, Jules--good=20 choice!" Lora agreed, then took the pages from her friend. "Can you start where they get to the lake?" came a male voice with a thick=20 British accent. All eyes turned to the back of the room, to search out the=20 speaker. Richard blushed, then stammered, "I mean ... well ... Dawn told m= e=20 about the tale, and she really likes that story." The good-looking Brit's=20 blush then deepened.=20 A few appreciative whoops were heard in the crowd as Lora said with a grin,=20 "Okay, for our British UFer and her *very* tolerant hubby!" She flipped=20 through the pages until she found the appropriate starting place.=20 She read: Nick parked the caddy on the edge of the lake, the lateness=20 of the hour guaranteeing their privacy. The two men sat=20 silently a moment, the light lapping of the waves against the=20 shore, the melancholy clang of a buoy and the ticking of the=20 cooling engine loud in the stillness.=20 "Now what?" inquired Lacroix politely.=20 "Uh, well, we, uh, you know. [BLEEP] [BLEEP]." His [BLEEP]=20 still [BLEEP] with [BLEEP] [BLEEP].=A0 It had been a long time, a very long time since he'd had [BLEEP] of any kind and it=20 wasn't an activity he cared to do without.=A0 But he had [BLEEP] somewhat since his impulsive decision to accede to Lacroix's request.=20 "Well, no, I don't know, Nicholas.=A0Precisely. Wouldn't the steering wheel be an awkwardness?"=A0He gestured toward said object with both hands.=20 "We... we get in the [BLEEP]."=20 "Ah. The better to see the submarines."=A0Lacroix half-stepped, half-levitated onto the seat behind him.=A0"Are you coming?"=20 "I'm surprised it didn't bleep that last word," mused Les. Several UFers shushed her, and Lora continued. "Why the [BLEEP] not?" muttered Nick, levering himself out from behind the wheel and onto the seat next to Lacroix.=20 "I think I can figure it out from here, Nicholas.=A0 If I may."=A0He=20 reached for the buttons on Nick's shirt, his fingers [BLEEP] quickly down his [BLEEP], the garment falling open as if by magic. Slowly, Nick lifted his hands to Lacroix's throat,=20 [BLEEP] the top buttons with a [BLEEP] sense of unreality. [BLEEP] coiled [BLEEP] in his belly, his [BLEEP] straining for [BLEEP] against his [BLEEP],=A0 Lacroix's fingertips [BLEEP] across his [BLEEP] awakening [BLEEP] both strange and familiar.=20 "Lie back, Nicholas," Lacroix whispered, [BLEEP] him down gently. "Just lie back.=A0 Let me... [BLEEP] for a while." "Why did you stop reading?" Presence asked. "Yeah," Cleo echoed. "It was just getting good!" Lora looked at the machine, wrinkling her nose. "I could swear I'm beginning=20 to smell ... something electrical." Everyone chuckled, but Lora continued. "No, really, I'm not joking! I think=20 the machine needs a rest." "I just love this story," April said to her friend Susan. "Les is *such* a=20 good writer. And I still can't believe she wanted to write a sequel to our=20 'When In Rome'!" The two friends sighed in unison. "'When In Rome' was a great story, too, April," Jules chimed in. "I mean, my=20 [BLEEP], the way you two had LaCroix [BLEEP] Nick, then made Nick a [BLEEP]=20 [BLEEP] [BLEEP], with LaCroix as [BLEEP] [BLEEP], [BLEEP] him, [BLEEP] him,=20 then having his guests at that party [BLEEP] him, then [BLEEP] [BLEEP] him,=20 then later LaCroix took him to his [BLEEP] where he [BLEEP], [BLEEP], and=20 then [BLEEP] [BLEEP]!" The machine made a sad little noise, almost a mechanical whimper, before=20 lovely blue wisps of flames sparked out of it. Lora quickly yanked the plug out of the wall before the fire could spread. Julia rushed in from the hallway with an electrical fire extinguisher and pu= t=20 out the flames. "Damn," Susan said. "Does this mean that the reading's over?" "I should very well think so." Julia's voice was stern as she turned to the =20 redhead staring sadly at the now-ruined device. "What, exactly, was the ..= .=20 the ... premise," the word came to her lips with difficulty, "of this War=20 post? Why in the world would the Unnamed Faction, of *all* factions, WANT a=20 censoring machine? It doesn't make any sense!!!" =20 There was silence in the library until Les said, as slowly and patiently as=20 was humanly possible, "Julia, this is War. The sign over the door on the way=20 in reads: Abandon all sense ye who enter here." "It does?" Heads nodded affirmation. Julia=92s brow furrowed a moment as she ransacked her brain for another reas= on=20 to kvetch. "Aha!" she exclaimed, lifting a forefinger aloft in triumph,=20 causing many Cobra-shy UFers in the crowd to flinch. "But! But FK Wars are=20 PG! We've been SO good for SO long, in all the Wars we've been in, not to ru= b=20 people's noses into UFfishness if they're not comfortable with it! I only=20 caught the last part, but ... I worry that we've really gone over the line=20 here. I mean, are you *trying* to get me into trouble with the War PTB? I'm=20 doing very well in that respect, on my own, you know." =20 The UFers were silent. Some of them wondered about the continued efficacy of=20 Julia's PTD. They didn't think they'd done anything wrong, but they didn't=20 want to argue with an angry Cobra. Julia saw that they weren't convinced. Since there didn't seem to be much=20 permanent damage to the library, she turned and left. The UFers began to stand and dejectedly head toward the door.=20 "Sorry, Lora," April said. "You tried," Presence added. =20 "It was a good idea, really," said Shelley. =20 "It wasn't your fault," added Cleo. "Wait a minute," Susan said cheerily. "I've got just the thing to lift =20 everybody's spirits. Let's all head to the kitchen and I'll whip up a batch=20 of my special honey-coated smores!" The room emptied at her words. "Well, gee. What's with them?" Susan muttered heading toward the door. "You'= d=20 think they were starving." In the empty room, beneath the smoking frame of the censoring machine, an=20 oddly shaped silver unnamed thingy still quivered with the collected and=20 supressed energies that had just filled the room. These vibrations, having=20 found a resonance frequency among the uncountable surfaces, continued=20 unabated, and played upon both its internal structure and external shape in=20 unmeasurable but potentially significant ways. The End? From - Tue Aug 24 06:34:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11J9D3-00040L-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:33:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1738; Tue, 24 Aug 99 01:31:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1621; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:31:08 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:33:00 -0500 Reply-To: treeleaf@IO.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Margie Hammet Subject: WAR: CotK: Fancy Meeting You Here (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 317828b74932f70e7457ab59cde098ee WAR: CotK: Fancy Meeting You Here (01/01) Written by: Margie Hammet Time: Sometime during Conversion Day Margie walked through the crowd, enjoying Conversion Day, but concerned at the same time. She'd wanted to come, she really had. Even though she loved Nick the best, she also cared for LaCroix, even though it wasn't in the same way as the Addicts did. But she still didn't know if LaCroix knew anything about that little incident at the Jewelled Peach, and if he found out.... Granted, he was mortal right now, but he might not be for long, and even as a mortal nearly 2000 years ago, he had been formidable. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she nearly bumped into someone. She was about to say, "Excuse me," but when she looked up, the words died in her throat. It was him! "Uh... Sir... Ge-General... S-Sir," she stammered. A smile crossed LaCroix' face, but it was the sort of smile that makes you think that in a minute, your head's going to be gone. "This one appears to have the right attitude of fear," thought LaCroix. Of course, he knew which faction she was with. LaCroix made it his business to know those things. He decided to press his, quite considerable, advantage. "Cousins of the Knight," he said, with that smile. "You call yourselves, Cousins, but you do not follow me," he continued, his voice and expression becoming threatening. "Y-yes Sir, n-no Sir, y-yes," Margie stammered, as she tried to think of something to say. "It's actually an honor to you, sir," she finally said. He continued to stare at her. "U-using the word, Cousins, in our name, which everyone knows is a word associated with you, even though we're not actually your followers, is actually an honor to you." It was true, in a sense, Margie thought to herself. LaCroix' smile returned, this time one of satisfaction. Yes, an honor to him. He conveniently ignored that the word, "Knight", was in the faction name also, and decided to accept the honor due him. Still, there was more that this trembling woman in front of him was frightened of. Even without his enhanced vampire senses, that was obvious. He continued to stare at her, waiting, his face becoming stern. Suddenly she blurted out, "They didn't mean anything by it, Sir! They did it to protect her! They were afraid they might kidnap her or something! LaCroix had absolutely no idea who the "her" was that was being referred to, or who the various "they's" were, but of course, he didn't reveal that. He merely continued listening, with an attitude on his face as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. "A faction is kind of like a family," she was saying, earnestly now. "We had to protect one of our family," she said. LaCroix' face softened. His smile became kinder, although with a bit of noblesse oblige in it, but also, Margie thought, a bit of sadness. "Of course," he said, quietly. "One has to protect one's family. We will speak no more about this." "Th-thank you, Sir," said Margie. The once and, Margie hoped, future vampire disappeared into the crowd. Margie felt her knees go weak with relief, but she was also happy that LaCroix had seemed to understand. ________________________ Margie (treeleaf@io.com) Bring 'em back alive! Margie (treeleaf@io.com) Cousin of the Knight ~ N&NPacker Kickstart the Knight!: http://jessica.simplenet.com/ktk From - Tue Aug 24 06:34:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JA93-0002j4-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 02:33:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5343; Tue, 24 Aug 99 02:31:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4427; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 02:31:12 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:34:24 -0500 Reply-To: "J. Michele Freemon" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "J. Michele Freemon" Subject: WAR: UF: Welcome to Margaritaville (Addendum) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 535f3d7c45bbfeffed80765f6b389484 Well, I had most of this bit in a separate window, ready to be tacked on to the end of Margaritaville Part 2, but of course, I completely forgot. Until Julia reminded me, that is. Thanks Julia! ~~~~~ All lyrics used without permission. "To Make You Feel My Love" by Bob Dylan (c) 1997 Special Rider Music (SESAC) (c) 1997 Sony Music Entertainment, Inc. Available on: Billy Joel's "Greatest Hits Volume III" "Dante's Prayer" by Loreena McKennitt (c) 1997 Quinlan Road Music Ltd. (SOCAN/BMI) Available on: Loreena McKennitt's "The Book of Secrets" "We Belong" by D. Navarro & R. Lowen (c) 1984 by Screen Gems-EMI Music Inc. Available on: Pat Benatar's "Tropico" From - Tue Aug 24 06:34:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JAPA-0003DJ-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 02:50:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4184; Tue, 24 Aug 99 02:47:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4865; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 02:47:47 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 23:54:26 -0700 Reply-To: "Laura K. Griffin" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Laura K. Griffin" Subject: WAR: DP: Diary of a Dark Perk Addict To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cde1666ffd27a126bc235f11f3d5db14 WAR: DP: Diary of a Dark Perk Addict by Laura Griffin Time: August 23, Monday night Place: Dark Perk Mansion >From the daily journal of Laura (The Dark CERK Perk) Conversion Day, 1999 Dear Diary, I can't believe that another Conversion Day is here already! Time flies... Man oh man, does that ever sound dumb. *Vampires* fly. Well, they used to anyway before mortality struck them all down to ground zero. Anyway, John-Travis and I went to Conversion Day festivities over at the NA Shrine. Lacroix was there, of course, and he looked wonderful. (As if he could look any other way!) The Addicts put together a beautiful party complete with dancers, singers, races, food....it was magnificent! I wore my dark pink toga, and John-Travis was even dressed for the occasion! Gone was his usual suit, tie, and fedora! Today, my almost-16-year-old son wore a white toga....with a teeny tiny bit of dark pink trim along the edges. I never thought I'd see the day! Turns out, he's been rehearsing a special play in honor of Conversion Day. I'm still not sure where he got the script, but it's titled, "Young Lucius: The Legendary Mortal Years!" Let me tell you...the younger addicts seemed to enjoy watching the performance. What can I say? The kid has great legs! (Nunkies...eat your heart out!) I wonder if Lacroix managed to catch any of the play... Tomorrow is another big day. The tapestry auction will be over, and I'm going to have to part with Nunkies in Repose. The other Dark Perks just don't understand my suffering! Shana caught me trying to bid on the tapestry myself, and so now the precious item is up for grabs by anyone who manages to come up with a great bid. That means the Knighties might get it! Or the UFers! Maybe the Addicts will reclaim the art work! ACK! What if....the Ratpackers bid on it?? Or the Enforcers? I certainly hope that the final bid makes my pain worth while. Ah well. I suppose I'll just have to suffer in the name of Vetter. Happy Conversion Day, Lacroix......wherever you are. Laura P.S. And a big thank you to all of NA for the invite to such a great party! ===== Cousin Laura -- The Dark CERK Perk http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Portal/6866/Laura.htm "Even though you're refracted, you're still you." -- 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile' From - Tue Aug 24 06:34:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JARh-00069q-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 02:52:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4186; Tue, 24 Aug 99 02:50:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4912; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 02:50:26 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 02:43:28 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: NA/MERCS: Let the Buyer Beware (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6438e76a208e5d6b30ef4979c1becd7b WAR: NA/MERCS: Let the Buyer Beware (01/01) by Laurie MercBard and Liz the Lucky Time: Monday late evening into Tuesday morning Following NA: Conversion Day Part 7 Place: Merc Central, the Happy Souvlaki, and all over Toronto All Mercs, FoDs, unionized evil fan fic fairies and borrowed characters used with permission "What LaCroix doesn't know, won't hurt us. He wants me to destroy his tapestry, fine. I don't need to tell him I've got another one," the GHP mused, still slightly stunned that the ex and soon to be again vampire had actually hired her for a job, one with an apparently unlimited budget. LaCroix was not happy that he had been unable to regain possession of the pilfered Nunkies in Repose tapestry; if he had still been a vampire, it would have been an easy matter to just swoop in and take it back. In his current condition, he was willing to spend, and spend big, to prove he could still control events. The Poobah peered around the office for her fan fic fairy, who, come to think of it, had been absent quite often lately. Worn out after spending the evening blowing raspberries at Addicts, F. Hugh was dozing at his usual perch on top of the Poobah's computer monitor. "Here, F. Hugh, I need you to deliver these. NOW." Laurie held out several envelopes, which contained instructions for placing a full page ad in Tuesday morning's edition of Toronto's newspaper, along with details on radio advertisements to be run immediately. The Grand High Poobug stayed put. "How much will you pay me?" asked the MINI-VOICE. "Pay you? PAY YOU?" The VOICE started to emerge. "Look, Mister, I made you and I can write you out just as easily. Go deliver these! NOW!" F. Hugh gave the MercBard a raspberry, and *POOF*ed out of view. The GHP barely noticed; she had already moved on to her next arrangements. Pressing the intercom on her desk, she called Mildred, Beth, and Gubs into her office, and quickly gave them instructions. "Laurie, where am I going to find a helicopter at this time of night?" a bleary-eyed Mildred complained. "I DON'T CARE. JUST DO IT. Cost is no object on this job. LaCroix's footing the whole bill." She grinned at her subordinates. The trio of Mercs stared at their leader in astonishment and admiration. *LaCroix*? *LaCroix had hired the Mercs*? Just how had she managed that? "It's the pull of my personality," the GHP answered the unspoken question, ignoring the snickering. She was on a mission, and that mission was to spend as much of LaCroix's money as possible. What mattered a few snickerings from her troops? She would have plenty of time to torture them later. She continued her stream of orders. "I've already called the printer. He's going to have fifty, no wait, I decided to order a hundred, a hundred thousand flyers ready in a few hours. I want them dropped all over Toronto by mid-morning. And make sure you concentrate around all the faction headquarters." As the Mercs trooped out, Laurie turned back to her computer. Quickly, she made the necessary arrangements to place instant ads on major Internet sites, including Vee-Bay and any other auction locations. She then went into the Vee-Bay site, called up the list of registered bidders, and sent an e-mail to each one. Just as she was searching for the Nothers telephone number, a convenient knock on the door occurred, and Liz the Lucky walked in, displaying the perfect timing that Mercs are wont to do. "Boss, you busy? I have tonight's dessert. "It's chocolate covered strawberries. I found some perfectly ripe ones." "Liz! Get in here! I was just going to call you." Laurie picked one up and bit it, savoring the flavor. "You're the list mommie for the Fodery, right?" "Yup." "I need you to do something." Laurie carefully explained Liz' assignment. "Sure thing," Liz agreed. "I'll get right on it." She headed out. Laurie smiled at a job well executed, and even more so at the huge fee she had earned from LaCroix. *Great minds work alike,* she thought with satisfaction and not a small amount of relief. A mortal LaCroix had had very little time this war to devote to the Mercs. But any day now, his powers would return. And while she had enjoyed their face-offs, she did have the Guild to think of. A continued feud would be detrimental to both factions. Perhaps peace was at hand. Although given the evil lurking in her and Bons' brains, somehow she doubted it would last. * * * Liz arrived at the Happy Souvlaki directly from Merc Central, waved briefly at Kathy and Cindy, and then headed for the table Schanke was sitting at. "Schank?" she said hesitatingly. "Liz!" Schanke greeted her. "Sit down and take a load off." "Thanks." Liz slid in the seat opposite him, wondering how to get started. "I ... need you to do something for me." "Sure thing," he agreed. "What's up?" Liz leaned over conspiratorially. "It's like this...." * * * By mid morning, Toronto had been blanketed, via newspaper adverts, flyers, continual radio spots, Internet notices, and private e-mails, with an important announcement: WARNING! STOLEN TAPESTRY! LET THE BUYER BEWARE! The following item, which was offered for sale on Vee Bay on Friday, August 13th, has been identified by the Toronto Metropolitan Police Department as a tapestry stolen from a temple in Toronto in April 1999. "The one of a kind Lucius in Repose Tapestry, a full sized wall hanging of the General himself". Strenuous efforts are currently underway to identify the thieves and bring them to justice. Any parties bidding on or purchasing this tapestry will be considered criminally liable. Anyone with information on this matter, please contact Detective Donald Schanke, 96th precinct, Toronto Metropolitan Police Department. -finis- From - Tue Aug 24 06:34:18 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JAwZ-0006vG-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 03:24:32 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5453; Tue, 24 Aug 99 03:22:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5966; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 03:22:22 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:29:03 -0700 Reply-To: "Laura K. Griffin" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Laura K. Griffin" Subject: WAR: DP: Diary of a Dark Perk Addict -- Addendum 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7e22a4c3eb1c8a0ad3a882e506fa0227 WAR: DP: Diary of a Dark Perk Addict -- Addendum 01/01 by Laura Griffin Time: August 24, wee morning hours before sunrise Place: Dark Perk Mansion >From the daily journal of Laura (The Dark CERK Perk), written immediately after checking Vee-Bay right before going to bed: Dear Diary, Tapestry? What Tapestry?! Laura === Cousin Laura -- The Dark CERK Perk "Even though you're refracted, you're still you." -- 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile' From - Tue Aug 24 06:34:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JBBd-0004XM-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 03:40:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4298; Tue, 24 Aug 99 03:37:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6333; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 03:37:54 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 00:39:33 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: Cuz: A Run Among the Ratsies To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1ade5bb3eb24d25c091c35cd41ed9536 Title: A Run Among the Ratsies Time: After the toga drop for the C-Day 5K Place: The Shrine and thereabouts Gwen took off, looking lovely and dignified in her toga. For a moment she had hesitated, wondering whether to pounce the dropped toga or join in the run. But with a shout from Cousin Tserisa she burst into action. Four legs gave her an advantage over the two-legged runners. So did all her chasing and racing skills she had developed with her fellow Cousinly Critters. She was quickly out ahead.... And quickly surrounded by rats. A kagillion of the little creatures had joined in the race, chortling with ratsie glee. Some of the runners were tripping. Others were squealing in fear. Some ignored them. But Gwen was distracted. She quickly spotted a young, weak rat in the herd. It looked confused and disoriented, as if it was only running along through the sheer force of ratsie bodies pummeling it. In honor of herd-thinners everywhere, Gwen pounced. She forgot about the race and trotted back to the side lines where Cousin Tser stood, rat in mouth. "What have you got?" Tser said sternly, brow furrowed. She reached down and took the rat, unharmed (this being a War) out of Gwen's mouth. "Hey...," she said. "This isn't a wild ratsie... this here is a fancy rat, a blue self no less!! Just a baby too! What happened to you little ratto?" Gwen was looking particularly pleased that Tser was happy with her gift. Gwen left in a dignified type way to find LaCroix. "I'll name you... Moody Blue!" Tser said. She seemed to be aquiring many new Critters this War.... * * * This story was written because I just got a baby girl rat in real life today. Yippee! Everyone welcome Moody Blue to the Cousinly Critters. ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Tue Aug 24 06:34:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JC5c-00068i-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 04:37:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5621; Tue, 24 Aug 99 04:35:45 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8704; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 04:35:45 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 01:37:32 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: Cuz: Chariot Zephyr: Pulled by Lava and Smokey To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a8cf5d0ce43d6a4501b7751c1a28cdb8 Title: Chariot Zephyr: Pulled by Lava and Smokey Time: The Chariot Race, during the C-Day Festivities Place: From The Shrine to CERK and back! * * * * * * * Tserisa hooked up Lava and Smokey to her chariot, which was painted black and with silver trim. It was good workmanship... sturdy and steady, since Tser had been practicing making driving sulkies for dogs. She had named her chariot Zephyr, after the wind. All good vehicles had names. "Hey you guys, win or lose, we're going to have fun!!" She gave Smokey and Lavalianna kisses on their noses. She knew both of them were rather competitive (especially when it came to other equines running)... in fact, once, during a stampede Smokey had taken off with her aboard under some VERY low trees. She almost rubbed her backside in memory of the bail-out she had chosen instead of being swiped off by a low gnarled branch to the forehead. Bedecked in their fine black and silver tack, they were ... SORT of a sight to behold. Actually, they looked kind of funny... a dun longear and a little white speckled appaloosa horse. Of course, Tser didn't notice, she only saw two fine steeds glistening and excited because they were going to be putting on a show. She had given them both baths and treated them with special coat oils and moisturizers, and they looked their very best, newly clipped. Cousin Gwendolyn perched on a special platform Tser had built her at the front of the chariot, resplendent in her fine white toga, which if you looked even closer, had white rosebuds embroidered on it. She licked one paw in a dignified manner. Tser was wearing her black imitation silk toga, of course, to match her chariot. Suddenly, the mini-toga dropped. They were off!!! Lava and Smokey barely waited for the sign before jumping to a start and plummeting down the street. Tser let out a whoop, egging her equines on. Her chariot rode smoothly after them (thank the Great Dragon for modern shocks) as she passed and was passed by many chariots, some flashy, some plain, passing quite a few cars that honked and slammed on their brakes. Luckily Smoke and Lava were used to the streets of Toronto. And used to honking and creating accidents too. It was in the Cousinly Critters nature. "Yah burro! Yah horse!" she yelled. It didn't sound quite as good as "Yah mule!" but she didn't have a mule yet. Up ahead, she suddenly saw two horses shy and leap off the course, vaguely catching site of a letter etched on the side. She carefully edged her galloping steeds to the other side of the street to avoid whatever it was had spooked the other horses. Tser had flashes to the Ben Hurr chariot race accident and grimaced... the moment passed quickly though, and she was once again enjoying herself. "Meow!" Gwen cried happily. She loved the wind on her nose. She had reached CERK, and spun her chariot around on a dime. "Latus praestat!" she squealed, realizing the saying was true, and gave Zephyr a pat on the side. Unfortunately, at that same instance, she bumped into another chariot, and one of the people in it screamed. "Uh, sorry!!" she yelled. "No good rotten Cousin tactics," someone shouted back at her. They looked angry and were egging their horses on. "Um, guys?" she said to the swiftly running donkey and appy that pulled her chariot. They swiveled ears to hear her. "Better let loose and high tail it." Lava brayed in delight and Smokey almost did a little buck, then they surged forward at full power, maneuvering around honking, swerving cars and chariots. They were coming up fast on the Jeweled Peach. Cousin Tserisa looked behind them. Apparently they had lost the angry charioteers. "WHOA!" she yelled, pulling up short on the reins and using her chariot wheel brake. Zephyr skidded to a stop at a couple meters past the finish line, Cousin Gwen flying with a "Mewph!" into Tser's chest, where Tser clutched her tightly. "Hey, we finished in one piece!" Tser said, and grinned. Except for a little bit of scuffing on the side where she had hit the other chariot (and that could be repaired with a little paint), the five of them had come through safe and sound, Zephyr ready to run a race another day. ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:31:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JDzr-0001jX-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 06:40:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4781; Tue, 24 Aug 99 06:37:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3839; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 06:37:55 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 06:39:44 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA/FoD: A little FoD-er for the Fire 01/03 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 274d440996576d15aa860db97916a607 WAR: NA/FoD: A little FoD-er for the Fire 01/03 by Patt Elmore When: Monday, August 23, 1999 Comes between: NA: Conversion Day 1999 02/07 and 03/07 Where: The Shrine of Nunkies Permission granted by all involved ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When east meets west, the cultural exchange can get a might tricky. Thus it was during the height of the Conversion Day Celebration Monday night when a contingent of Revenue Canada arrived at the Shrine. "Now what?" Patt moaned as the newcomers came trickling in. "I think I recognize some of them as our internal revenue department members," Jesse said. "Isn't that the tax chief just now coming in?" When Patt whimpered again, Bram poked her gently on the arm. "Want me to change him into a newt?" Patt gave the idea serious thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Nahhhh, they'd probably just find a way to deport me if you did." Patt paused, considering, then shook her head. "Aren't those the FoD's?" Supaige said, indicating a group now arriving. The Friends of Don appeared to be laden with catering supplies and covered dishes. Patt's expression brightened as she considered this new development. "Food!" "Good food!" Caren nodded in agreement. "Great food!!" Tiff added. "Wonderful, wondrous . . ." Egrus Toga began to chant. The group of addicts turned to stare at the tiny bot. He noticed the attention and burped into silence. "Well, he did have a point," Nite giggled and patted her errant blender on its head. "Not to change the subject," Supaige interjected, "but does Peptic look angry?" Patt didn't want to look up but knew she had too. Sure enough, a rather miffed-looking Alfred Pectin was striding her way. The mature addict smiled generously as the tax officer bore down on the little band of addicts. Pectin, however, was having none of it. "What the bloody nuisance is going on here? Why, pray tell, is the cleaning crew assembled in *my* offices?" The little veins in his neck were tight and bulging. Patt watched the swift pulsing with what could almost be construed as vampiric fascination. "We're getting drunk and rowdy," Caren spoke up, raising her glass of wine in salute of Mr. Pectin. "Got a problem with that?" Pectin's response was livid. "I left you cleaning people a note to be off the premises by seven p.m. today." "You did?" Patt looked perplexed. "Who'd you leave it with?" "Some insolent young woman in tight black leather and boots," Pectin replied with a growl. "She was the only cleaning person I could locate at the time." "Oh . . ." Patt gave the ex-Mountie a sheepish grin. "Sorry, but you committed faction-errorous. We janitorial-types never got the note." "No matter. We will rectify the misunderstanding immediately." Pectin's temples were throbbing. "I demand that you leave the premises at once. We are hosting a private party here and *you* are not invited." "Take that!!" Egrus whirred into life. Pectin looked down at the reconditioned blender, with definite kick-mode on his mind. "Oh my gosh!" Glennis said quietly. "Isn't that Schanke?" All addict heads turned at once, watching as the Don himself walked into the room. "Outstanding!!" Egrus chirped. "Drinks for everyone!" "And souvlaki!" Nite added. "Even though it *should* have gone to the Raven . . ." Pectin seemed much calmer now. "You are acquainted with Mr. Schanke?" "Yes," Patt answered. "He's kind of a fan of the faction, as we are of him." Pectin mulled this over. But, before he could decide further action, Don Schanke noticed the tax chief surrounded by addicts and strolled over. "Better watch it there, Mr. Pectin. Those are the NA's you have circled around you. Better move the wagons in closer, because those are some really tough broads." "Indeed?" Pectin gave the addicts a skeptical look. "Real sweet of you girls to loan this place for our little shindig." Bram opened her mouth to comment, but hushed when Glennis' elbow accosted her ribs. "You gonna stay for the party?" Schanke asked. "Party?" The addicts simultaneously tilted their heads with questioning expressions. "Oh, yea . . . big party," Schanke smiled broadly. "Anniversary of Saint Dionysious." "Don't know it; doesn't compute," Egrus spoke up. Schanke looked down at the rolling toolbox. "Sorry there, little buddy. I guess we'll have to rectify that situation." He looked across the room and broke into a radiant grin at the site of his wife, Myra. "See that wonderful woman over there? Classy lady, right?" Well, no argument there. The addicts all nodded and Egrus beeped. "Hey, my kin may come from the Sardine capital of the world, Kaloni, but Myra's people come from the island of Zakynthos. Pretty little place in the Ionian Sea." "Isn't it also called Zante?" Caren asked. Schanke nodded. "Yep, and thus im-mor-tal-ized in poetry by that scary writer guy." "King?" Bram looked skeptical. "Poe," Glennis corrected. "Don't know no Poe," Egrus whistled. "Know Shake-um-up-spear." "Anyway," Schanke continued, after giving the blender-bot an odd look. "While the rest of the homeland was struggling with Turk rule, the Venetians were governing Zakynthos and turning it into the "Flower of the East." One of the major celebrations over there is the Saint's Anniversary and, because Myra's cousin, Dion, is employed with this Revenue Canada branch, these accommodations were generously offered to us for our party. We're all ready for some dancing, drinking and fireworks. Had no idea until we pulled up out front that we were heading to the Shrine." "But, here you are," Patt said, her nose twitching as some flavorful aromas drifted across the room. "With your catering entourage from the Happy Souvlaki in tow." "Kinda makes your mouth water, don't it?" Schanke leaned over and spoke to the mature addict in a conspiratory tone. "What did the FoD's bring?" Patt stage-whispered back. Don winked. "*ALL* of the good stuff." Patt glanced around the circle of addicts, hopeful expressions on their faces. She turned back to Pectin. "Well?" Pectin had stood rigid during the entirety of the conversation between Schanke and the addicts. "Well, as this party was planned for Dion and his family, and they appear to want you here for the celebration, I suppose you may stay this once," Pectin said grudgingly. "That a way Peptic!" Supaige said, giving the tax administrator a slap on the elbow. "Have a margarita on me." Pectin humpfffed and stoically walked away. Schanke turned and grinned at Patt. "Come on, ladies, let's chow down." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 01/03 patt79ad@juno.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:31:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JE6U-0001w3-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 06:46:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4797; Tue, 24 Aug 99 06:44:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4105; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 06:44:51 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 06:46:38 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA/FoD: A little FoD-er for the Fire 03/03 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 83f919ba6d37a8b422996f8be3f6fb87 WAR: NA/FoD: A little FoD-er for the Fire 03/03 by Patt Elmore When: Monday, August 23, 1999 Comes between: NA: Conversion Day 1999 02/07 and 03/07 Where: The Shrine of Nunkies Permission granted by all involved ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Introductions made, Patt showed Cindy and the other FoD's where to place the foodstuffs. Several addicts began wandering over, checking out the new items on the buffet. "Oh, wow!" Jesse said, sneaking a piece of the Dolmathes. She smacked heartily as the grape leaf melted in her mouth. "Nirvana and then some," Caren agreed, allowing Spiff to give her a small portion of Saganaki. The Louisiana addict carefully nibbled on the fried cheese, wary of the heat on her tongue. "This is quite a place," Kathy walked up to the two addicts. "You can tell that, even though you're still under construction. What's this wavy line on the floor for?" Kathy tapped her foot where construction chalk marks were evident on the marble tiling. "Don't know," Caren told her scuba buddy. "Just something else for the construction folk to finish. They're still working on the roof, last I heard, then they were working their way down. A sly expression crossed Kathy's face. "Are most of the rooms finished?" "I suppose," Caren replied. "How about the . . . chime room?" Kathy asked sneakily. Caren broke into a big smile of understanding. "Right this way, my friend. We'll go as the *wind* blows." Giggling, the two women walked out of the room. "What's with them?" Spiff asked as Rav bounced by. "It's an addict thing," Jesse explained. Spiff nodded, and went back to setting out appetizers. Supaige walked up to where Jesse was standing and helped herself to a sample of Tiropita. "This is the kind of stuff which makes Barry Manilow sing," the blonde addict said, popping the cheese mixture into her mouth. "See here, young women." Pectin, stalked over to where Supaige quietly chewed. "You cleaning people were allowed to remain at the party per Mr. Schanke's request, but you are not to monopolize the food. Do you understand?" Jesse shrugged and walked away. Supaige, however, had been emboldened by her third Roman Candle. "Lookie here, Pectile," she said, catching up the tax officer's tie and twirling it between her fingers. "Patt may have the hotsies for you, but you are *taxing* my patience." She laughed at her joke, not noticing the odd look Pectin was giving her. "Ms. Elmore has developed a personal interest in me?" He seemed astonished at the prospect. "Yep," Supaige confirmed. "But only because you're a Mountie. She's spent three wars trying to corner a Mountie." "Then, for a cleaning woman, she exhibits quite good taste," Pectin said. Then his eyes narrowed and he spoke with authority. "But, I still must insist, young woman, that you leave some of the food for the *invited* guests." "Gotcha, Pector," Supaige said agreeably. "There's plenty of munchies in the Peach." The addict turned rather gracefully, with only one minor stumble, and walked toward the restaurant. Spiff elbowed Rav, who was quietly bouncing. "These are some strange folk." "Yeah, but they seem nice," Rav replied. "I couldn't help noticing that you bounce," Monica said as she walked up to the FoD table. Rav nodded bouncily. Monica caught the other woman's arm and began guiding her toward the private rooms. "We have this trampoline that you just wouldn't believe . . ." Patt and Cindy continued to chat, watching the guests circulate through the altar room and beyond. "I wonder what they're talking about?" Patt tilted her head toward where Schanke, LaCroix and Bons were chatting in a rather serious manner. Cindy shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I can find out." She smiled and moved away from the Third Cousin. >From across the room, Cabon motioned to Patt. Well, he was motioning to anyone with authority, and he caught Patt's attention first. "Dinner is ready," he mouthed and signed. Patt gave him a thumbs up and headed for the podium. "Ladies and gents, the formal supper is now being served in the Jeweled Peach. Please join us." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the end 03/03 patt79ad@juno.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:31:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JFE5-0005oS-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 07:58:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5159; Tue, 24 Aug 99 07:56:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8557; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 07:56:43 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 07:58:26 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA: Run for the Roses? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d2b93198a05bc14df34202122f0451d4 NA: Run for the Roses? By: Jennifer Lee Place: Conversion Day Festivities Time: late Monday, August 23rd, 1999 Everything in here is mine, and I said I could use them. Jennifer had decided, against all better judgement, to enter the chariot race. Of course, what was really crazy was that she had also dragged her horse, Coup, into it with her. Why not? He was broken to harness, after all. So what if his rather brief history as a carriage horse had been somewhat... destructive. He was much calmer, now that he was older. The little accident that had brought him to her was years behind them. And anyway, he *was* a Thoroughbred. He had the bloodlines and the race training. He was the grandson of record-setter Buckpasser, for heaven's sake. There was no reason at all not to hitch him up to a lightweight chariot she had designed and had delivered specifically for the Conversion Day festivities. So why were her black leather gloves slick with sweat on the inside? Jennifer knew that if she took them off, her hands would indeed be black from the mixture of leather dye and saltwater. She didn't drive a lot. Her place was on the horse's back, jumping over obstacles that, occasionally, no one in their right mind would want to put a horse over. Well, one had to be open to new experiences, right? Besides, Luke was riding with her, and he'd be able to help her if she had any serious trouble. She had assurances from the livery stable that the three horses she had leased, while quite fast, were also tractable, experienced animals who would never endanger their driver, not even in a pell-mell chariot race. Of course, they didn't mention that the drop of the mini-toga would spook said "tractable" horses almost as badly as it spooked Jennifer's eight-year old Thoroughbred. They took off suddenly, dragging several inches of reins out of Jennifer's grip and forcing Luke to grab the chariot tightly to avoid being thrown from it. The Imperial Addict, as Luke continued to call her, muttered some choice epithets under her breath, then went to work trying to calm her team. "Easy, boys. Whup, babies. Whup. Easy. Quiet. Silence," she said to them, using every single calming phrase that had ever had any effect on Coup. "Whoa, babes. Chill. Nice, steady pace. One, two, one two," she chanted as her hunter training took over. Okay, so there were no strides between fences to count, but it helped calm her down, as well as Coup. She just needed to establish a good, controlled rythym. Easier said than done. The three "tractable" leased horses had taken the bits in their mouths, and Coup wasn't about to lag behind them. Jennifer was not happy with the situation at all. So much for driving. "Luke!" she called over the pounding of hooves. "Take the reins!" The well-muscled ex-vampire slid into Jennifer's place, slipping his hands onto the reins in front of hers before she let go. "Try to slow them down, at least to a trot. We're not going to get anywhere in one piece this way," Jennifer told him. She needed Luke's greater strength to get the team's attention, and she needed them to be listening if her plan was going to work. The team slowed gradually as the un-undead man worked with them. Then, they abruptly broke into a walk from the canter, and Jennifer leapt out of the chariot (which was, conveniently, pulled to the side, out of the other chariots' way). She moved to the head of the team and grabbed two of the horses' bridles, ordering them calmly to whoa. They did, and she worked her way in next to Coup. She pulled a pocket-knife from her breeches, and cut the Thoroughbred's reins to aproximately four feet each, then threw the remaining reins back to Luke. "What are you doing?" he companion called to her. "I'm riding my horse, like I should," she answered as she tied the reins together. "You'll have to control the rest of the team a little, in case they don't follow him." With that, she swung up onto her horse, gathered the reins, leaned forward and pressed her calves against his sides, hissing "Hsss-Yah!!!" Coup recognized the cue for what it was, and leapt forward. The rest of the team was with him as he moved swiftly towards the other racers, gaining speed and ground with every bounding stride. Jennifer was exhilerated. This was the way it was supposed to be. Horse and rider, acting as one, each feeding off of the other's drive. Suddenly, those slow-motion endings to the big race in the movies didn't seem so foolish. Luke kept careful control of the reins for the three leased horses, only interfering when they showed signs of ignoring Coup's de facto leadership. When they passed the finish line, Jennifer didn't care if they'd won or come in last. They'd finished the race, and that was all. From - Tue Aug 24 18:31:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JGsP-00074n-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 09:44:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3678; Tue, 24 Aug 99 09:41:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7741; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 09:40:20 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 09:40:31 EDT Reply-To: LdyofSable@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Lee Subject: War: NA: One Way Ticket (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8ab3caf16138f3bacee743818bc41a18 NA: One Way Ticket (1/1) By: Jennifer Lee Place: Sacred Shrine to Nunkies Time: Tuesday morning, August 24th, 1999, after "Birthday Girl" Everyone, fictional, non-fictional, or otherwise, used with permission. Jennifer/Caligula had enjoyed wandering around the party, ordering Luke to fetch her this and that, casting imperious glances over her "subjects," and plotting what to do with that runaway servant when she found her. Which, of course, she didn't, thanks to said servant's incredible "blending in" skills. Somehow, the Cousinly Leader managed to evade the Imperial Addict and still have a good time. Still, why Jennifer/Caligula's goal of catching and skewering the escapee was never realized, she did manage to find an alternative. There, standing beside an auburn-haired woman, was the General. The addict-turned-emperor-and-god-of-Rome strode purposefully up to him, her chin high. Luke scrambled after her, realizing what she meant to do. "You," she hissed when she reached the General's side. La Croix glanced at her, annoyed that she had interrupted his dealings with Jules. He was taken aback by her horrendous manners. After all, had he not just wished her a happy birthday late last night? "Where is my servant, General?" she said, making his title a threat. "Your servant?" he said casually, immediately recognizing that, somehow, the young addict had become Caligula once again. "Yes. *My* servant. What have you done with her?" "Why, I have sent her home," La Croix said, his temper under control... for the moment. "You WHAT?! When you knew that she was to serve *me*? How dare you? You have betrayed your Emperor and god!!! THIS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!!!" she screamed, her face flushed. "My emperor," Luke pleaded with Jennifer/Caligula as he cast pleading glances, first at La Croix, then at the High Priestess. Jules was staring at Jennifer/Caligula, all the while thinking that hot wax and grout duty would be useless in this situation. La Croix, on the other hand, could feel his anger growing by the millisecond. He didn't care that the addict before him was delusional. How dare she speak to him in such a manner? Emperor and god indeed! "I have betrayed no one," the General said cooly. "And I do not think that you are in a position to take Cousin Tserisa back." "WHY I-" Jennifer/Caligula began, but stopped abruptly when Luke caught her arm. "J- My emperor, please. Calm yourself," the ex-vampire/GROUT member begged. "THAT'S IT!!!" Jules shouted above everyone. "I've had enough." "Who are you to speak in such a manner, woman?" Jennifer/Caligula demanded of her. "I am the High Priestess of this shrine, and you will not desecrate it, or the man it honors, in such a fashion," Jules declared, lifting her chin. La Croix raised one eyebrow in appreciation for his Priestess's bravado. "Priestess? Shrine?" Jennifer/Caligula asked, confused. "This General is revered much as you are, my Emperor," Luke said meekly. "This is a place of worship for his followers." "Then he is a god?" "Of sorts, my Emperor." "Why did you not tell me?" "You... haven't been well, my master," Luke said, his brain working overtime. "Ah," the Imperial Addict said, smiling slowly. "I see." She faced La Croix and Jules, her hands out, and said magnanimously, "My apologies. Had I known this was your temple, General, and that you were revered as a god, I would not have taken your servant." La Croix nodded, but inside, he was fuming. As soon as Jennifer regained her sanity, she was going to have more things to worry about than her first year of college. Jules, though, was anxious to remove the deranged Addict from the premesis before she caused any more trouble with Nunkies. "Emperor," she said, "might I suggest that you go home? Rome is certainly a much better place for you to recover from your... illness." Jennifer/Caligula nodded. "You are wise, Priestess. Very well. I will go to Rome. Consult with my manservant about travel arrangements. I believe I will retire now." * * * * Two hours after the near-disaster of Jennifer/Caligula's encounter with La Croix, Luke had managed to get the addict on board a plane headed for Italy. The HP had made arrangements with a company for Jennifer/Caligula to act as a tour guide in Rome. *****Flashback***** "You're sure you can handle her?" Jules asked Luke. They were standing together in an alcove, discussing how exactly they were going to send Jennifer/Caligula away. "Yes, I'm sure." "What about her things? Her animals?" "I'll take them home, for her." "And her parents?" Jules asked, not wanting to get a call from outraged adults concerning the whereabouts of one teenager who was scheduled to be in college in a few days. "I'll take care of them, too. Don't worry," Luke assured her. "This had better work," Jules said. "It will." "If it doesn't, it's hot wax for you." Luke winced. "I promise, I'll get it taken care of." *****End Flashback***** And it had worked. Luke assured Jennifer/Caligula one last time that she would soon be safe in Rome, and that her people would be overjoyed to see her. He stayed long enough to watch the plane take off, then headed back to the Shrine. There, he gathered up Jennifer's belongings, put her cats in their carriers, and loaded Coup in a rented two-horse trailer. He started the engine of the one-ton truck, and pulled away from the Shrine, resigning himself to two days of cats howling and frequent stops on the way to Pennsylvania. The things he did for love. Okay, like. Okay, chivalry. Okay, the things he did because his creator had written him into a corner. --------- The End (finally) ldyofsable@aol.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:31:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JGtU-0000N6-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 09:45:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5786; Tue, 24 Aug 99 09:40:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7497; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 09:38:08 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 09:39:56 EDT Reply-To: LdyofSable@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Lee Subject: War: NA: Birthday Girl (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fc65f1f5ca9c70d5462ed5765404776e NA: Birthday Girl (1/2) By: Jennifer Lee Place: Sacred Shrine to Nunkies, sometime during "Conversion Day 1999" Time: 11:36 PM (EST) Monday, August 23rd, 1999 All Addicts, Cousin Tser, and Nunkies (aka La Croix) used with permission. Again, Luke's mine, all mine!!! Muhahahahahaha. Jennifer was having a blast!!! This Conversion Day party was a dream come true. Here she was, in the company of her fellow Addicts and friends from numerous other persuasions, celebrating the beginning of the divine Nunkies. Of course, that wasn't the only good thing about the day. Number one, she no longer thought she was Caligula. That had been interesting, to say the least. She was still sorry about kidnapping Cousinly Leader Tser. Add to the joy of being herself once again the fact that she would be eighteen soon, and you had one explosively happy addict. She was counting the minutes ... literally. At odd intervals, she'd shout numbers over the crush. "Five minutes!" she screamed this time, clutching something in a death grip. She did a little happy dance as she stared at her watch, as if the power of her gaze could force Father Time to speed things up. Luke just stared at her, smiling indulgently. He liked his addict. She was young. She was fiery. She was smart. She was downright gorgeous, especially in the "Robin Hood" costume she wore, consisting of beige breeches, black boots, a hunter green, velveteen tunic, short burgundy cape, and a fake dagger shoved through a wide, brown leather belt. So what if she was a little crazy. She'd captured his now-beating heart, and forced him to swear fealty to her under threat of physical torture and happy-kiddy-show exposure. Jennifer tiptoed to Luke's side. She grinned. "Four minutes," she whispered into his ear. He nodded and placed his hand on the small of her back, but was soon beaten off by a flying ball of multicolored fur that made odd trilling noises. "Tooters!" Jennifer exclaimed, kneeling down as her younger cat flopped onto her side. The soon-to-be-eighteen-year-old scratched the calico's back with her long, silver fingernails, all the while making odd noises. "Hello, Tooter-Dooders. Ba-Dooder-Dooders. Yes, you're cute, aren't you? Oh, you like that, huh. Oh, oh yah. Oh yah, that's a good back rub, isn't it. Yes, ooh, get the floor, get it! Rub the floor." Patoot gave a little cry halfway between a birdcall and a meow as she slid away from Jennifer's hand and jumped up to rub against Luke's black wool pant-leg. Seeing her opportunity, the older cat sidled in next to her mommy, purring loudly and arching her back. Jennifer scooped the lanky Abyssinian up and cradled her in her arm. "Hello, Guinie. How's my girl? You love momma, don't you? Yes, you do. You want momma's food," she cooed as the cat pulled herself up to hang over her human's shoulder, drooling, purring, and kneading all the while. Luke, meanwhile, pulled a string from his pocket and began to play with the Toot. "Two minutes," Jennifer muttered excitedly as she stroked Guinivere's back. "Fifty seconds..." Patt stared at the newbie and shook her head despairingly. "Twenty-three..." "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five," she went on, her voice growing more excited with each word. "Four, three, two, ONE!!!" she screamed triumphantly, scaring her neurotic Aby off of her shoulder. "It is now 11:41. Technically, I should be celebrating at 11:41 Mountain Daylight time, but then I'd have to wait until the 24th, going by Eastern Standard Time." She brought the hidden object up, pressed a button, and it began to emit a noise. Within seconds, she was dancing and singing along with the tape player in her hand. "IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT, IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS KNOW IT..." Luke laughed, grabbed her, and shook her hard to get her to stand still. "HEY! JENNIFER!" he shouted. "Ya?" she asked, grinning. "Happy birthday, Your Worship." "Thanks, Luke," Jennifer said, grinning, not noticing her cats as they slunk away to find a place that was just a little safer. They were thinking of a place with at least three walls between them and their mummy dearest. Coup was lucky. He got to live in a barn. Jennifer and Luke proceeded to dance and party to her little custom cassette as it played all of her favorite music. Pretty soon, some of her friends and fellow addicts began to gather as well. Cousin Christy smiled at the younger addict, saying "Happy Birthday, Jen." She was joined in her sentiments by Evil Cousin Tiff, her boy band servants, and Bram. Jennifer grinned and said, "Thanks, you guys." "Of course, this might be more interesting if you thought you were a Roman Emperor," Tiff went on. At that, Jennifer had to fight to keep from spitting her drink all over. "No thank you, Tiff. Uh uh, no way, no how. Uh uh. No. Do you realize how much that traumatized me? I mean, there I was, coming dangerously close to ticking off all of our leaders, GROUT, and who knows who else! Not to mention, I kidnapped a member of my other faction, and made her my personal slave!!!" Jennifer's voice was growing higher as she went on. "It was TERRIBLE!!!" "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Cousinly Leader Tser said, laying a hand on Jennifer's shoulder. "Come on. I should have known better than to let myself wander into a dark alley during war." she thought. "Besides, you weren't yourself. You can't be held accountable for your actions when you think you're an emperor and a god, and an insane one at that. Just be grateful that your 'Caligula' personality wasn't historically accurate." "I guess you're right," Jennifer muttered. "Hey, Jen, do you want Travis to make you feel better?" Tiff asked. The soon-to-be-college-freshman grinned. "No thanks, Tiff. I have my own slave," she said lightly, putting her arm around Luke's waist as they both thought things that might damage innocent minds. "Aren't you two sweet," Patt said as she joined the group, followed by KC and MacCousin. Jennifer and Luke smiled downright evil smiles. "We know," they said in chorus. "We were written that way." MacCousin stared at Jennifer. "You guys actually do that? You've only known each other a little over a week." "Actually, we've known each other longer," the two said together. "It's been brewing in a little addict's imagination for quite some time." KC stared at them. "Okay, my little eggplants, enough of the synchronized speaking." "Okay," Jennifer and Luke said, still in sync. "Do I have to call the fanfic fairies in?" KC threatened. Jennifer almost held up her hands, but stopped when she realized that meant letting go of Luke. "Okay, KC. We'll stop with the chorus. I promise," she said. "Thank you!!!" the others said. "Hypocrites," muttered Luke. "What was that?" Patt asked. "Uh, nothing," Luke said. "I said hippo fritos. It's a marketing idea." Jennifer gave her fictional SO an admiring glance. , she thought. "Horse fritos?" Cousin Tserisa murmured in confusion. "Well, happy birthday, Jennifer," Patt said, ignoring Luke's comment. "Welcome to the world of being an adult, as far as United States law is concerned." "But that doesn't mean you have to act like one all the time," MacCousin added. "So have a very happy birthday." "Yes, my little pickle-head," KC said, "happy birthday. You know, Lukey-boy, if you want to get Jen a present, you can always buy from Snixco!!!" "Uh, gee, thanks, KC," Luke said. "Oh, Jen," Tser said. "I brought something for you. Here." Jennifer took the proffered box, smiling at Tser. She opened it, to find a note inside. It read: "I don't have much more in my resources left to give, but I hope this is a present befitting your wonderful birthday. With love, Cousin Tserisa" Beneath the note, there lay a small silver Venus pendant and a polished moonstone. Jennifer positively beamed. "Thank you, Tser," she exclaimed, hugging her fellow Chevalier. "They're wonderful." Tser smiled as Jen released her and said, "The moonstone is said to be the stone of protection for travellers, used for drawing love, divination, psychism, sleep, gardening, and working out problems in romantic relationships. I think you know what Venus is for." Jennifer nodded, and winked at Luke. "Hey, Luke, did anyone ever tell you that you look kinda like a certain movie character?" Christy asked suddenly. She'd been staring at the un-undead beau for several seconds. "Hush!" Luke said. "I'm not Him, I'll never be Him, and I can sure as heck out-rabbit-face Him." "Um, okay." Just then, Jennifer pulled a toy lightsaber (the concept belongs to George Lucas, not me), switched it on, and handed it to Luke. "Much better," she said. "Hey!!!" Luke cried, shoving it back at her. Jennifer grinned and took the toy. Before any further silliness could be enacted, though, a silky voice insinuated itself into the ears of everyone present. The addicts immediately fell into drool mode. "I hope you do not mind this intrusion my dears, Luke, but I wished to see what had one of my followers so ... excited," Nunkies said. "It's Jennifer's birthday," Luke supplied. "Really?" Nunkies said, arching an elegant eyebrow. "It would seem that well wishes are in order. How old are you, my dear?" La Croix asked, though he already knew the answer. "Eighteen," Jennifer answered dreamily. "Eighteen," Nunkies mused. "The age of adulthood, in these times, is it not?" Jennifer nodded. Nunkies took her hand, and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. "Happy Birthday," he said, straightening. "I hope you enjoy it to the fullest," he purred before turning to walk among the others present. Jennifer sighed, dangerously close to a Nunklear Meltdown. "He's forgiven me," she said dreamily. "Jen," Christy snapped. "Divia loves La Croix." That did it. The mention of La Croix and his daughter as an item snapped Jennifer back into focus, gagging. When she'd gotten control of herself, she said, "Thanks, Christy." "Any time," the other addict said. "Now then, back to the party." "But I *like* ogling my immortality-challenged beau," Jennifer whined. "Then admire him while you're dancing, Jen," Tiff advised. "It's much better." "I see your point," Jennifer responded. Music, games, dancing, and general mayhem (of the good kind, of course) kept everyone occupied and blissful. Okay, maybe not blissful, but quite happy. Then, without warning, something terrible happened. Jennifer was walking over to a table in search of munchies to fuel her party drive. Her older cat, Guinivere, chose that moment to come tearing across the floor, making a b-line for her human mommy. She was between Jen's legs before either one knew it, creating a tangle of limbs and fur that quickly brought Jennifer down. The young addict was about to pick herself up off the floor and comfort her neurotic cat when she learned exactly why Guin had made the mad dash for her. In a blur of multicolored fur, Patoot ran right over her and jumped onto a table, knocking a large silver dish off in the process. "Oh, no. Not again," Jennifer moaned as it came crashing down on her. "Jen! Are you okay?" she heard Luke ask as he helped her off of the floor. She straightened and brushed herself off when he let her go. When she looked up at him, her mouth was set in a stern line. "What," she said coldly, "did I tell you about calling me that? Be careful, boy, or I will not hesitate to entertain the masses with your demise." "Oh hockeypuck," Luke muttered under his breath. --------------------- Continued in "Birthday Girl" (2/2) ldyofsable@aol.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:31:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JGtW-0000N6-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 09:45:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5789; Tue, 24 Aug 99 09:40:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7553; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 09:38:47 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 09:40:11 EDT Reply-To: LdyofSable@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennifer Lee Subject: War: NA: Birthday Girl (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 88cc3ec007ce3459522084e0f54367cd NA: Birthday Girl (2/2) By: Jennifer Lee Place: Sacred Shrine to Nunkies, sometime during "Conversion Day 1999" Time: Midnight (EST) Tuesday, August 24th, 1999 All Addicts, Cousin Tser, and Nunkies (aka La Croix) used with permission. Again, Luke's mine, all mine!!! Muhahahahahaha. This was bad. This was very, very bad. Jennifer/Caligula was back, and to make things worse, there was a *real* Roman in her vicinity. Things could get messy if she ran into La Croix in her state. Luke had absolutely no intention of letting her do *that*. "My Emperor," Luke said humbly, "please forgive my transgression." He hoped that would get him out of the dog house for calling her Jen earlier. "Very well, but do *not* let it happen again," the addict said. Luke bowed low and said, "Thank you, my Emperor." Jennifer waved her hand at him. "Yes, yes. I am very gracious, I know. Now then, your emperor is hungry. Fetch me some food." Luke bowed again, backed up a few paces, then straightened and went to do her bidding. "What's up with Jen and Luke?" Christy asked Tiff from their place accross the room. "She thinks she's Caligula," Tiff explained. "Again?" "Uh huh." "Oh, great. Hey, how do you know that?" Tiff pointed at her boy band, grinning evilly. "They tell me all sorts of things." "Ahhhh," Christy said in appreciation. "Uh, Tiff, did you just say Jen thinks she's Caligula again?" Cousin Tser asked. "Yah, why?" Cousin Tser looked over her shoulder as she stole away. "I think I'll just find someplace far away from her. I've had quite enough of being her slave, thank you very much. My suggestion would be to take a well-aimed brick and hit a certain delusional Addict in the forehead," she said. With that, she went to mingle with her other fellow addicts, far away from the Imperial one. "Smart woman," Bram observed. "Do you want me to turn Jennifer/Caligula into a newt?" "NO!" chorused the other two addicts. "I mean, think about it," Christy said. "Do you really want a newt thinking it's running the Shrine?" "What's the problem over here?" Patt asked as she came up to the Addicts. "Jennifer thinks she's Caligula again," Tiff answered. "Oh dear. I think I should tell the other leaders. We may have to get her out of here," Patt said, and took off to find her fellows. ------------------- continued in "One Way Ticket" (1/1) ldyofsable@aol.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JILb-00049g-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:18:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6726; Tue, 24 Aug 99 11:12:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2811; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:12:16 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:13:29 EDT Reply-To: TheLadyT@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "L.J. Conk" Subject: War: UF: "Let Me ... [BLEEP] For A While" (REPOST) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4540da0bbc82d50e52d3750f927953d5 Apologies for the evil =3D20s. I *hope* I got them all this time. War: UF: "Let Me ... [BLEEP] For A While" By Lora C. Time--Monday morning, Aug. 23, before the Conversion Day festivities Location: The Hive, UF HQ Vaquero Rae used with permission--the post is pretty much her idea anyway. Special thanks to Julia and Leslie for their valuable input! Lora answered the doorbell and signed for a rather large package.=20 The card on the outside of the box read: "For Lora, and the other UFers. Love, Rae" "Did you get it?" Jules asked, nodding to the box in Lora's arms "Just arrived," Lora said with a smirk. "I still think you're nuts," Jules added. "It's a wacky idea!" "But I gotta try. I promised Rae," Lora replied with enthusiasm.=20 "She said it's cutting edge technology: fuzzy logic!" "That sounds appropriate." Megan bounded in. "Is it here? Are we gonna do it?" she asked excitedly. "We're gonna try," Lora replied with a smile. "Can you get the others so we can test it?" "Great! Be right back!" And off Megan went. "Do you need help with that thing?" Jules asked her friend as they headed toward the Blue Room to test the equipment. "Give me that," she said as she took the heavy box from Lora, who was beginning to look a little paler than usual. "Thanks, didn't realize it was so heavy," Lora said, rubbing her arms and leading the way. Once in the Blue Room, the two set up the machine as UFers wandered in and took their seats. Jules plugged it in, then nodded to Lora. She flipped the switch. The UFers waited attentively. "Shall we give it a little test?" Lora asked the crowd with a flourish. "Yes!" the assembled group replied in unison. Lora spoke one word: "[BLEEP]." "Oh, [BLEEP]," said Jules. She paused, in awe. "Wow. That thing really *does* work!" "So," a very pleased Lora said to the assemblege, "Let's try it out on some UFfish fiction. What shall I read to you?" Shan waved her arm. "How about '[BLEEP] This'--the one you and Jules wrote in chat a few months ago. I just loved that one! Didn't you two have LaCroix [BLEEP] Nick with [BLEEP] [BLEEP] to a [BLEEP]? Hey, why did that 'bleep' me?" The crowd looked at Lora sternly. *They* knew Shan hadn't said anything wrong in that last sentence. "I ... ummm ... uh ... well ..." Lora stammered, trying to figure out the experimental censoring device. "It's designed not only to ensure that everything is PG-13, but to bleep out any innuendo, so ... maybe it wasn't so much the words as the context, Shan. I mean, we all know that the word 'bed' is okay, and so are 'silken' and 'tie' and even 'cords.' I mean, it didn't bleep me when I said them again right now, right?" "Let me see this thing," Jules said, pushing past Lora to get at the machine's controls. "You must have it set for G, not PG-13." Jules fiddled with the controls as the machine continued to "bleep" at nearly every other word she uttered. "This is NUTS!" she cried, getting up in frustration. "It's okay, Jules," Lora said, putting a comforting arm around her friend. "We're just playing here. Why don't you just go grab a beer while I try to readjust the machine one more time?" "Oh, all right!" her friend said quietly and went to get her beer. As Lora rummaged through the carton, looking for the instructions, Jules popped a tab on a cold one, then moved to stand by a nearby bookshelf. Something attracted her eye. "Hey Lora!" she said, holding up a sheaf of papers. "How about 'Submarine Races'?" A chorus of yes's was heard from the assembled UFers. "Oh, yes, Jules--good choice!" Lora agreed, then took the pages from her friend. "Can you start where they get to the lake?" came a male voice with a thick British accent. All eyes turned to the back of the room, to search out the speaker. Richard blushed, then stammered,=20 "I mean ... well ... Dawn told me about the tale, and she really likes that story." The good-looking Brit's blush then deepened.=20 A few appreciative whoops were heard in the crowd as Lora said with a grin, "Okay, for our British UFer and her *very* tolerant hubby!" She flipped through the pages until she found the appropriate starting place.=20 She read: Nick parked the caddy on the edge of the lake, the lateness=20 of the hour guaranteeing their privacy. The two men sat=20 silently a moment, the light lapping of the waves against the=20 shore, the melancholy clang of a buoy and the ticking of the=20 cooling engine loud in the stillness.=20 "Now what?" inquired Lacroix politely.=20 "Uh, well, we, uh, you know. [BLEEP] [BLEEP]." His [BLEEP]=20 still [BLEEP] with [BLEEP] [BLEEP]. It had been a long time, a very long time since he'd had [BLEEP] of any kind and it=20 wasn't an activity he cared to do without. But he had [BLEEP] somewhat since his impulsive decision to accede to Lacroix's request.=20 "Well, no, I don't know, Nicholas. Precisely. Wouldn't the steering wheel be an awkwardness?" He gestured toward said object with both hands.=20 "We... we get in the [BLEEP]."=20 "Ah. The better to see the submarines." Lacroix half-stepped, half-levitated onto the seat behind him. "Are you coming?"=20 "I'm surprised it didn't bleep that last word," mused Les. Several UFers shushed her, and Lora continued. "Why the [BLEEP] not?" muttered Nick, levering himself out from behind the wheel and onto the seat next to Lacroix.=20 "I think I can figure it out from here, Nicholas. If I may." He=20 reached for the buttons on Nick's shirt, his fingers [BLEEP] quickly down his [BLEEP], the garment falling open as if by magic. Slowly, Nick lifted his hands to Lacroix's throat,=20 [BLEEP] the top buttons with a [BLEEP] sense of unreality. [BLEEP] coiled [BLEEP] in his belly, his [BLEEP] straining for [BLEEP] against his [BLEEP], Lacroix's fingertips [BLEEP] across his [BLEEP] awakening [BLEEP] both strange and familiar.=20 "Lie back, Nicholas," Lacroix whispered, [BLEEP] him down gently. "Just lie back. Let me... [BLEEP] for a while." "Why did you stop reading?" Presence asked. "Yeah," Cleo echoed. "It was just getting good!" Lora looked at the machine, wrinkling her nose. "I could swear I'm beginning to smell ... something electrical." Everyone chuckled, but Lora continued. "No, really, I'm not joking! I think the machine needs a rest." "I just love this story," April said to her friend Susan. "Les is *such* a good writer. And I still can't believe she wanted to write a sequel to our 'When In Rome'!" The two friends sighed in unison. "'When In Rome' was a great story, too, April," Jules chimed in. "I mean, my [BLEEP], the way you two had LaCroix [BLEEP] Nick, then made Nick a [BLEEP] [BLEEP] [BLEEP], with LaCroix as [BLEEP] [BLEEP], [BLEEP] him, [BLEEP] him, then having his guests at that party [BLEEP] him, then [BLEEP] [BLEEP] him, then later LaCroix took him to his [BLEEP] where he [BLEEP], [BLEEP], and then [BLEEP] [BLEEP]!" The machine made a sad little noise, almost a mechanical whimper, before lovely blue wisps of flames sparked out of it. Lora quickly yanked the plug out of the wall before the fire could spread. Julia rushed in from the hallway with an electrical fire extinguisher and put out the flames. "Damn," Susan said. "Does this mean that the reading's over?" "I should very well think so." Julia's voice was stern as she turned to the redhead staring sadly at the now-ruined device.=20 "What, exactly, was the ... the ... premise," the word came to her lips with difficulty, "of this War post? Why in the world would the Unnamed Faction, of *all* factions, WANT a censoring machine? It doesn't make any sense!!!" There was silence in the library until Les said, as slowly and patiently as was humanly possible, "Julia, this is War. The sign over the door on the way in reads: Abandon all sense ye who enter here." "It does?" Heads nodded affirmation. Julia=92s brow furrowed a moment as she ransacked her brain for another reason to kvetch. "Aha!" she exclaimed, lifting a forefinger aloft in triumph, causing many Cobra-shy UFers in the crowd to flinch. "But! But FK Wars are PG! We've been SO good for SO long, in all the Wars we've been in, not to rub people's noses into UFfishness if they're not comfortable with it! I only caught the last part, but ... I worry that we've really gone over the line here. I mean, are you *trying* to get me into trouble with the War PTB? I'm doing very well in that respect, on my own, you know." =20 The UFers were silent. Some of them wondered about the continued efficacy of Julia's PTD. They didn't think they'd done anything wrong, but they didn't want to argue with an angry Cobra. Julia saw that they weren't convinced. Since there didn't seem to be much permanent damage to the library, she turned and left. The UFers began to stand and dejectedly head toward the door.=20 "Sorry, Lora," April said. "You tried," Presence added. =20 "It was a good idea, really," said Shelley. =20 "It wasn't your fault," added Cleo. "Wait a minute," Susan said cheerily. "I've got just the thing to lift everybody's spirits. Let's all head to the kitchen and I'll whip up a batch of my special honey-coated smores!" The room emptied at her words. "Well, gee. What's with them?" Susan muttered heading toward the door. "You'd think they were starving." In the empty room, beneath the smoking frame of the censoring machine, an oddly shaped silver unnamed thingy still quivered with the collected and supressed energies that had just filled the room. These vibrations, having found a resonance frequency among the uncountable surfaces, continued unabated, and played upon both its internal structure and external shape in unmeasurable but potentially significant ways. The End? From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JILj-00049q-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:19:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4634; Tue, 24 Aug 99 11:12:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2866; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:12:28 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 08:19:12 -0700 Reply-To: Shele Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shele Subject: WAR: NA - The Gold Dress Project 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 29dd2704c73c32d948313d248f22fc3e Title: The Gold Dress Project 1/1 Faction: Nunkies Anonymous Written by: Shele Setting: The NA Shrine Day/Time: Monday morning, 8/23, prior to any real C-Day events. Let's say 9am-ish. ********** "Darn that KC!" Ted exlaimed. "???" Shele asked, in the way only a cement bound person can. He pouted. "Not only did she fool us all with that darn Nick Knight/purpl= e murple ruse, she's written on you again." Sure, he had been aching to twe= ak the Detective's you-know-whats for some time (but that's a post for a whole different war, if you know what I mean! ), but he definitely did not like to see the Poet defaced. [Ow! Stop that -- it was= a good pun!] "" She replied, knowing *exactly* what he meant. "???" "That stupid slogan of hers, 'KC is the goddess'. What's that supposed to= mean, anyway? 'The goddess' of what? And shouldn't goddess have its initial capitalized?" He looked at the Poet for confirmation and was pleased to s= ee her eyes bob up and down behind her shroud's eyeholes. ".... ....! ...." "Yeah, I know KC's a Print Journalism major and can't be bothered with su= ch things, but shouldn't she be setting a good example for the freshm...." H= e laughed. "I guess you're right, it must be part of her evil plan for worl= d domination." ".... ....." "Religious reasons, eh? She *is* a complicated little elf!, isn't she?" * * "" "What?" Ted grinned, "What are you thinking?" "...? ...!" She replied. "Have you already written it?" ".... ...!" "Okay, it'll be pretty easy since her handwriting suffers from 'Reporters Scrawl'. Start rhymin' and I'll be back in a flash!" Ted took a handful of pens, in case KC had added some variety to her graf= fiti, and went to do his own marking. First, though, he updated the legend on S= hele's torso. "Add an H, change the I into an A, add an L and then an R.... Perfect!" Ted skittered off In Search Of..., while Shele hummed possible rhymes out= of the corner of her partially exposed mouth. "Hm hm hm hm hmhmhm hm hm, hm hmhm hm hmhm hm hm.... hm..... hmhm!" * * * Christina skipped along the hallway, so pleased to back in the Shrine and= so especially pleased to have been given a suspended sentence by the interga= lactic tribunal. "Hello New Walls! Hello New Mosaic! Hello Nunkies!" She kissed life-sized= statue standing in the foyer. "Hello Kitty Cats! Hello Window-- OOF!" She ran sm= ack dab into the inmovable Poet and fell to the ground. "Hello, what's this?! 'K= C has the gold dress'?" "... ...? .... ...!!" "Reminds you of what old nursery rhyme?" "... ..... .... " "Oh, yeah. I remember that one." Christina hestitantly concurred. At this= point, all limericks sounded the same... and she didn't remember *not* rememberi= ng this one. She stood up and patted the Poet shaped form. "See ya later, Shele!" As Christina continued her skipping jaunt down the hall, she started sing= ing, "There once was a magical gold dress That relieved its wearer of all stress Make of lam=E9 and pearls It fit all of the girls Oh, will its thief truly ne'er confess?" ********** End of The Gold Dress Project 1/1 From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JIdx-0001sG-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:37:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4880; Tue, 24 Aug 99 11:34:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6893; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:34:46 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:24:48 -0400 Reply-To: Maureen Wynn Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Maureen Wynn Subject: WAR: NP: Chillin' At the Morgue To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 29ab611587e4c37adcdbed42b4ac61f6 Title: Chillin' At The Morgue Time: Thursday, August 19th, 1999 - afternoon and evening Place: The Morgue By Maureen the Mad and the NatPack "Why am I having this feeling of deja vu?" James muttered, struggling to balance 3 large paper bags, a bag of ice, and a large flat box containing a cake as he walked down the sterile white corridor. "I don't know," Meg said, struggling with her own load of bags, "but don't drop that cake!" "Yep, definitely deja vu..." "Come on, guys, we don't have much time to set up the party. Stop goofing around!" said Mel, pushing open the door to the Morgue. "Nat, we're here..." Her voice trailed off as she took in the signs of chaos in the Morgue. "Nat?" Mel called again, her voice quavering uncertainly. The other NatPackers crowded in the door behind her, going silent as they saw the destruction of the room. "Here I am," Natalie called, coming out from the cooler. "Nat!" Meg shouted, and nearly dropped her bags and packages as she rushed across the room to the coroner. "What happened here?" "Some crazed villagers stomed the castle," the coroner replied tiredly. There was a pause. "Nat... are you feeling okay?" Mel asked, visualizing War-induced nervous breakdowns. "No, really. I know it sounds crazy, but some wackos stormed the Morgue with torches, thinking I was "Dr. Natenstein". Torches, inside a building with smoke detectors... you do the math." They did the math. Two plus two equals a very drenched lab. The small group stood and looked around the despoiled room, each pondering their own thoughts. "Well... we still need to set up for the party," Meg said finally. "I think we need a little help..." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - *30 minutes later...* "Hey, guys, we're here! Where should we start?" Judy said, barreling through the swinging doors to the Morgue and almost tripping over James. James pulled back the handle of the vet/dry vac he was using on the floor, to allow the girl to enter, turned it off, and smiled at the other NatPacker. Then he had to move back as more girls tumbled through the doorway behind Judy. "You're here! Great... we've got a start on it, but we still have lots to do. Why don't you go check with Nat - she's distributing the cleaning supplies from the janitor's closet right down the hall..." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - *an hour later...* "Is everything set?" Jill asked, taking a last look around the room, looking to see if there was anything more to be cleaned up or set up for the birthday party. Taped outline of a body on the floor: check. Polaroid for taking pictures of people in the body outline: check. Blood bags filled with Ribena, or that chocolate-syrup-and-grenadine concoction of Janet's: check. Ice in the plastic-lined autopsy tray: check. Chalk-outline chocolate cake (and Jill didn't even want to *think* about where they found a bakery able to do *that*): check. "Yep, everything's ready!" chirped Lady Angst. "Now all we need is the guest of honor. Where *is* Betsy with Maureen, anyway? Shouldn't she be here by now?" - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - *somewhere else in town...* "Don't *wanna*!" Maureen snarled, refusing to budge from her chair and taking another sip from her extra large cup of Diet Coke (tm). "Come on, Maureen, it'll be really cool - I'd have thought you'd be interested in seeing a real autopsy!" Betsy wheedled, starting to panic. If she couldn't talk Maureen into going to the Morgue, they'd start the party without them! Betsy wanted to be sure to get some of that chocolate cake before it was all gone. "Why don't you want to go?" "Cause it'll be gross and messy and disgusting." "Since when has _that_ ever stopped you?" Betsy asked, honestly puzzled, remembering that Maureen was once a biology major, who occasionally still liked to watch surgeries on the Discovery channel. "Since I saw that damned movie!" Maureen yelled, lowering her voice when several people at the mall food court looked at them. "I'm still so queasy..." she mumbled, swallowing hard. "Oooohhhhhhh!" Betsy breathed, finally understanding. Her friend had made the mistake of seeing "The Blair Witch Project", and the herky-jerky hand-held camera movement had made her totally seasick. "You want some more Pepto tablets?" Betsy offered sympathetically, digging through her bag. "No, I've taken so many Tums every bone in my body will be sufficiently calcium-ated for the next decade. I just want it to stop!" the redhead wailed. Betsy had a sudden brainstorm. "You know what really works on nausea?" "What?" Maureen said, eagerly, sitting up straight. "Cold!" "Huh?!?" "It's a proven medical fact," Betsy said, making up the medical facts on the spot, "that temperatures below 40 degrees Fahrenheit significantly reduce incidents of motion-induced nausea." She paused. "Of course, your whole body needs to be exposed to that temperature. Now where," she mused, "*where* are you going to find some place that's below 40 degrees... in August... in Toronto?" Maureen's eyes narrowed in thought, then widened with the fervent glow of A Plan. "Come on, Betsy, we're going to the Morgue!" - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - *shortly...* "SURPRISE!!!!" The party-goers bounced toward the stunned NatPacker framed in the doors leading to the Morgue, as a grinning Betsy pushed her into the room. "Wha...?!? But... but you all gave me my presents already! And that Sara Lee cake for breakfast..." Maureen slowly realized she'd been masterfully faked out, and started to grin. "You guys are something else! I never even saw this coming!" [It's very surreal to be writing my very own surprise party... -Mo] She moved toward the crowd, which suddenly parted, and revealed a smiling Nat standing behind a gurney, on which was displayed a very large... twinkie. A twinkie with a very *large* number of candles burning on it. Maureen stopped, stunned into immobility. Then she started to laugh, and the rest of the crowd joined in. She walked up to the twinkie-cake, still giggling, and said, "Let's see now... one, two, three, thirty..." Several people in the crowd behind her chimed in with, "Forty, forty-one, forty-two..." The birthday girl shushed them, then continued, "Yep, they're all there!" grinning up at the wryly smiling coroner. Nat said, "Quick, blow them out - I *don't* want the sprinklers in here going off again!" Puzzled by this remark, Maureen made her wish, then leaned down and blew out the candles, almost collapsing from hypoxia by the time they were all out. Natalie handed her a large surgical scalpel, and ceremoniously Maureen bent down to cut the twinkie, ignoring the "eewww!"'s of the non-NatPackers in the crowd. Some people were so squeamish! Laurie just closed her eyes and shook her head - you can't change NatPackers! Maureen handed the first slice to the coroner, then started handing out more pieces to the rest of the party, momentarily forgetting all about her earlier nausea. She laughed when Jill trundled up an IV stand with a large bottle hanging from it, and started dispensing vodka through the tubing into plastic shot glasses. Raising one of the glasses, Maureen declaimed, "Let the party begin!" And it did. From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JIiv-0000EV-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:42:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4934; Tue, 24 Aug 99 11:40:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7962; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:40:32 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:42:27 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: The Atholl Brose (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 66295ba9cace7bb43ad705ab58a3cbd4 WAR: Independent/CGW: The Atholl Brose (2/2) by Brenda Bell Follows: Faer Afield All characters, living and fictional, used with permission. Parody to "Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy's Chowder" belongs to the Fiendish Glow. The original song appears either to be generic "Irish Traditional", or for its license to be managed outside of the United States: I can't find it at all in the ASCAP database, and it comes up with three different sets of writers and three different publishers in the BMI database. Ghillie brogues probably belong to one of the Glow Worms and should be returned because they're expensive. ******************* The Fiendish Glow, Thursday, 19 August, 2000 Eastern Daylight Time As Father Andrew suspected, it was something very close to wood alcohol that did the rats in. Anxious to get a more potent brew, the MacCousin had substituted a large bottle of Ethyl Alcohol ("rubbing alcohol") for the indicated cheap scotch. "Heather, m'love, didna' ye read th' bottle?" Chris asked, after she admitted to the switch. "Of course I read the bottle. It said 'Ethyl Alcohol, 70% by volume.' Tha's wun hunnerd forty proof an' wud make a wicked buzz!" she grinned. Chris picked up the bottle and pointed to a line of small print. The words "denatured" and "not for drinking purposes" figured prominently. "I figgered tha' was a waernin' not tae drink it straight -- nae tha' ye cuddna' mix't wi' something," the MacCousin replied. "The reason it says 'denatured' on't is that they add in poisons so tha' ye canna drink it. Otherwise, it'd'hae tae be regulated by the liquor authorities." "Hmm," the MacCousin mused. "Ye ken, Lucius nearly made off wi' one of them poisoned rats... what if he'd gotten into the dumpster itself and drank the stuff?" "Aye, and *who* threw it *into* the dumpster i' the furst place?" she asked him. "Ssh!" Pen whispered, passing them each a drink to shut them up. "The karaoke's about to begin... and Brenda said she had something special for us tonight." The MacCousin rolled her eyes. "Welcome to Karaoke Night at the Fiendish Glow", the young lass at the mike announced. "Tonight we're going to start off with something... *different*. One of our managers has come up with some new lyrics to an old favorite. Please give a hand for Brenda!" Polite applause greeted the heavyset woman as she stepped forward into the lighted area. "Thank you Colleen. I think you've all been aware of the rat problem that has begun to peak throughout the city." Some groans of assent mumbled through the crowd. "We've been aware of it, too." A few hushed chuckles escaped. "We've set bait, traps, closed up holes, and so on... but today we witnessed one of the most unusual methods of rodenticide I think I've seen in my life -- death by intoxication!" A few laughs arose from the crowd at the tables, and a few boos from the bar. "(That's a warning to the bar rats in the corner)," she stage-whispered, eyeing Father Andrew, Kerrigan, and O'Neal trading stories. Another chuckle emerged. "An' for all this, we have our own MacCousin Heather t' thank. Take a bow, Heather!" "I'm going to really get her for this!" the MacCousin said, turning red beneath her blue warpaint and plaid glow as the spotlight turned hot on her. When the applause died, Brenda continued: "Ye're all familiar with the overalls in Mrs. Murphy's chowder, right? Well, this is a bit of a different take on it." With Colleen ready to roll the karaoke machine, Brenda gave a last check to the "official" lyrics, and found it a verse shorter than her own version. "Ye know something? I'm not sure how long the karaoke is set for, so why don't I do this one *sean nos* -- without accompaniment." A murmur ran through the crowd, not all of it pleasant. "Sean nos?" Colleen asked. "Are ye sure?" Brenda nodded, showing the emcee where the lengths of the two versions differed. "It's your reputation," the redhead shrugged. Brenda took two breaths, counted her tempo, and began to sing: Oor MacHeather pulled a jug out, bent on making Atholl Brose; Everything she put in there, from oats to -- panty hose? The last word, spoken and paused upon, elicited some nervous laughter. She had in mind a special brew, with lots of extra kick -- But the spirits tha' she put i' there would make a drunkard sick! Oh, who threw the Atholl Brose into the ootside dumpster? Nobody spoke, so we looked where all the lumps were. We had no idear 'twould be Aught to make the rats all dee From Atholl Brose inside the ootside dumpster. After the expected laughter died down, the woman continued: Well the jar sat i' the pantry, oozing gray an' brownish goo 'Til the Glow Worms spotted it an' wondered what tae do, Then Heather's darlin' opened it tae poor himself a drink -- But he nearly keel-hauled over to escape the awful stink! "You didna?" Heather asked Chris. "Aye," he told her. "'Twas right strong, that stuff!" Who spilled the Atholl Brose into the ootside dumpster, Nobody spoke so we looked at all the clumps there. We had no idear the goo Wud smell worse than leather glue From th' Atholl Brose inside the ootside dumpster. A bunch of groans elicited from the crowd at the bad puns and worse rhymes. "Ye think the story's finished?" she asked them. "Yeah!" it said. "Well, we're just about half-way point." "Aawwww..." Brenda crouched down and asked the crowd conspiratorially, "Well, do you want to know what happened to that goo?" "Noooooooo...." "Well, you're gonna hear it anyway," she said, standing up and preparing to sing again. Then Chris he brought the jar outside tae throo into the trash All the lights were darkened and we heard an awful crash! The stench wa' something awful as it seeped the garbage o'er Yet the rodents must've liked it 'cos they came there by the score! "By the score?" she asked rhetorically. "By the gross! By the gross and the gross-out. By the scads and scads. By morning, the dumpster was overflowing with rats!" she said, embellishing the story. Well, Who spilled the Atholl Brose into the ootside dumpster? Nobody spoke, and we barely saw those clumps stir Fer the rodents acted drunk An' smelled worse than fresh-sprayed skunk From th' Atholl Brose inside the ootside dumpster. "OOoohhh, I'm *really* going to get her for this!" MacHeather cried, looking for where she had placed her lance. "Hush, lass," her fiance said. "We all knae ye canna cook. Dinna worry aboot it. Besides," he winked, "after a' that rat removin' stuff, we need tae laugh aboot it." MacHeather fumed silently as her fellow Glow Worm continued... "This is the last verse," the woman announced, to the cheers of the crowd. "But it's a bit of a serious verse." The crowd booed. "It's got a moral to it." Father Andrew perked up in the corner. "And a bit of a recipe." The audience booed. "Well, let's get it over with, shall we?" The audience went silent. "Okay, now, here it goes... The moral of the story is, if you'd drink Atholl Brose Watch oot tae see that it's no' made from worn-out ghillie brogues(1)! Ken clear denatured alcohol the recipe will botch, Just keep it plain and simple -- honey, water, oats, and scotch! "That's the recipe bit," she told the crowd. "And cream, of course, if you like it that way. *Fresh* cream. Not denatured cream. None of that past-the-expiration-date stuff." She paused and asked, "anybody want to sing along?" A few timid souls took her up on the offer, as they concluded: Who spilled the Atholl Brose into the ootside dumpster? Nobody spoke, and we barely saw the clumps stir For 'twas poisoned, so you see And it made the rodents dee An' there's no more rats inside the ootside dumpster! ********************************* NOTES: (1) Ghillie brogues are "traditional" hard-soled Scottish lace-up shoes. They're kind of like oxfords except that they don't have a tongue, and the laces are long enough to lace around your ankles as well. Brenda F. Bell IRC nick: T`Mana bfbell@dorsai.org webwarren@earthlink.net From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:18 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JIjf-00059j-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:43:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7019; Tue, 24 Aug 99 11:40:35 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7974; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:40:34 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:42:23 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: The Atholl Brose (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d67277b1c17852c36127fd35ac000577 WAR: Independent/CGW: The Atholl Brose (1/2) by Brenda Bell Follows: Faer Afield All characters, living and fictional, used with permission. Parodies to "Three Blind Mice" belong to the Fiendish Glow. Ghillie brogues probably belong to one of the Glow Worms and should be returned because they're expensive. ************* Three drunk Celts Three drunk Celts See how they roar See how they roar They drank so much booze that they lost all their sense And made so much noise that the staff took offense They had to chase rats to prove their penitence Three drunk Celts Three drunk Celts. ************* The Fiendish Glow, Thursday Morning, 19 August, 1130 Eastern Daylight Time "Aaarrgh," Chris moaned. "Me achin' head," he complained, stumbling to the bathroom. "You shouldn't've had that much scotch last night," Pen chuckled. "Me woman goes out t' dinner wi' another man two weeks b'fore oor weddin', an' ye tell me *not* tae go an a bender?" "She got home *well* before midnight, Chris -- which you'd've known if you weren't already drunk under the table, along with Father Andrew and Liam..." Brenda chided. *Talk about turning over a new leaf,* she muttered to herself, remembering the Bridget Hellman incident(1). *We'll see how long _that_ lasts...* Nevertheless, she'd give him the respect accorded any of Father Andrew's friends -- at least until he once again proved himself unworthy of that respect. "Don't bore me wi' th' details," he said. "She left me for that Nuncompoop o' hers. What does she see in him, anyway?" "Ear candy, love," MacHeather said, emerging from her room long enough to grab the woad mixture sitting on the kitchen table and kiss her fiance quickly on the cheek. "You're the one she's promised to spend the rest of her life with," Brenda added. "Aye, but I caen't help bu' wonder if she'll leave me to follow tha' Nuncompoopies o' hers i' he calls again." "Chris," Pen said, breaking the proscenium once again, "this is fiction. We are fans of a TV show that was cancelled three years ago, and this 'War' is a fictional Color War that takes place in an alternate-universe Toronto that doesn't really exist. Got it?" "Yes, but as long as I'm playing *in* that fictional Toronto... I aught t' be playin' by the rewles, lass," he responded, pushing the loose proscenium planks back into place and nailing them tightly shut. "Aarrrgghhh!! Me achin' 'aid!" he cried at the sound of the hammer falling onto the planks. "A bit o' quiet, if you please!" Father Andrew's head poked out of one of the spare rooms. "Matins, lauds, primes, an' terces caen only get you so faer o' the moarnin after..." "Especially when it's been -- what, forty years? since your last 'night before'?" Pen chuckled quietly. "Aboat thaet, lass -- aboat thaet." "Well, we'll say a prayer for you and your aching head," she smiled as he disappeared back into his prayers. "Looks like the faether'll also be lookin' for the 'air o' the' dog," Chris acknowledged. "Yeah," Brenda frowned. "Meaning O'Neal won't be all that far behind him..." She paused, lost in thought for a moment, then directed her next remarks to Pen. "I'm thinking that after the ruckus they caused at the Glow last night, we need to put all three of 'em on rat patrol as penance." "Rat patrol?" Chris asked, worried. Pen fingered her chin a moment, then broke out an evil smile. "After *that* scene?! Most definitely!" "Rat patrol?" Chris asked, a bit louder. "You see that outside?" Pen asked, dragging Chris to the window overlooking the dumpster. Several rats waddled in and out of the covered green metal bin. Others all but dragged themselves on the ground. Still others were running full-tilt into wheels, walls, and metal sheets. "We're trying to get rid of them. *You* will help." "I-I-i *will*?" he asked, incredulous. "Yup," Brenda agreed. "You, Father Andrew, and Liam O'Neal will help the boys set up the traps and eradicate the pests before they infest the Glow itself." "It's the least we can do, given the disturbance we caused last night," Father Andrew said, finally emerging from his hours of prayer. "Has anyone warrned O'Neal aboot this?" the newly-woaded MacHeather asked, adjusting her tartan toga. "No, but I have this feeling we're just about to," said Brenda, just as the doorbell chimed. From the window, she could see a figure completely shrouded in a hooded Kinsale cloak. "Give him inside duty," Father Andrew suggested. "I fear the hangover may be punishment eno' for him." Pen and Brenda chuckled. ******************* Three drunk rats Three drunk rats See how they weave See how they weave They all had too much bad alco'ol to drink Because it hadn't been poured down the sink Now they've all lost their sight and can no longer think Three drunk rats Three drunk rats. ******************* A few hours later, just outside the Fiendish Glow. *crunch* *crunch* "What stinks oot here?" Chris asked, his hazard-baggied boots stepping on, over, and around several fly-ridden lumps of unidentifiable *something*. "It smells like rotten meat," O'Neal suggested, trying to trace the source of the noxious fumes. "Rotten meat an' alcohol." His steps took him to the now overflowing dumpster. "I dowan remember it bein' anywhere near full whin we staerted," he commented. "We have been throwing out garbage, bait wrappers, and trap packaging all afternoon," Father Andrew suggested. "And Miguel and Consuela have been cooking all day." He held out a piece of bait towards an oncoming rat. The rat sniffed at the bait, turned around, and made a beeline for the dumpster, trying his damnedest to get inside. "Hmm... thair must be *something* aboat this dumpster," the former priest observed. Stepping his way around the rodents, he grabbed a poker and carefully lifted the dumpster's lid. The stench was overpowering; he couldn't keep it open more than a couple of seconds. "Tek a look a' this," he advised the others, crossing himself. O'Neal and Chris each stepped to the dumpster in turn, and each quickly replaced the lid and stepped back. "Rats," said Chris, noting nothing surprising. "Rats upon rats," O'Neal elaborated, stepping his way around the corpses on the ground. "Drunken rats," Father Andrew suggested, watching another specimen run full tilt towards the Glow's outside wall, crushing his skull against it and falling dead a short time later. A pileup of dead rats had already formed in the same area. In the drive area, rats were waddling, weaving, and otherwise behaving abnormally. "What wud cause a rat t' get tipsy?" he wondered. "Shoo! Shoo!" Consuela appeared at the kitchen doorway, brandishing a 10" French chef towards a trio of the four-legged creatures. Unfortunately, the rats in question seemed to have no idea where to shoo *to*, and ended up weaving in and out of each other and around Consuela's legs, right into the waiting paws of... Lucius the cat. "AArrgh, no!!!!!" Chris cried, charging towards the cook and diving between her legs just in time to save the black feline from capturing this most interesting live food. As a result, Consuela lost her balance, falling, knife first, cutting off the tails of the three weaving rats in the process. "Ba-a-a--a-ddd Lucius," Chris chided the cat. "Didna ye ken, the rats arrre poisoned? I' ye eat 'em, they'll kill ye -- an' MacHeather would neeevvir ferrrrgive me." "But didn't y'all and Heather teach me tuh chase rats and mahce back in Teykzas?" Lucius asked. It came out as sounding more like "Meow, meow, aww, meow, purrr, *bat forepaw* meow, *bat forepaw in the rat's direction*." "I'm goin' t' put ye back in yer carrier fer now, little one," he said, carrying the cat inside and upstairs despite its squirming and yowling protests. "Looks more like wood alcohol than drinkin' stuff to me," Father Andrew said, observing the rats' behavior as the two men righted the cook, who disappeared post-haste back into the kitchen. "They're blind as bats." "But how did they *get* drunk on that stuff?" Liam asked. "I'll bet it was Heather's attempt to make Atholl Brose(2)," Brenda said, having seen and heard everything from Consuela's chase onward. "If by any chance that jar cracked, the concoction would have seeped into the food scraps and fermented them..." "Bu' thaet wudna' poisoned the critters, though," Father Andrew asked, hopefully. "The way that *concoction* smelled, I'm not so sure," Brenda shook her head. *Maybe it's time we ask Heather exactly _what_ she put into that thing,* she told herself. *********************** (CONTINUED IN "The Atholl Brose" part 2/2) NOTES: ------- (1) Bridget Hellman was the rookie chomped on by Jack the Ripper in "Bad Blood". In the episode tag, while Nick tries to convince Lacroix that Liam's changed his ways and doesn't need to be killed, Liam is sitting in the cemetery with a crossbow aimed at Bridget's grave. As she rises from the grave, he trains the weapon on her. We are left to presume that he fires and kills her permanently. (2) Atholl Brose is an alcoholic drink made by fermenting the water drained from making oatcakes with honey, scotch, and often cream. There are several recipes for the concoction floating around the Web; just look up "Atholl Brose" and "recipes" in your favorite search engine. Brenda F. Bell IRC nick: T`Mana bfbell@dorsai.org webwarren@earthlink.net From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JJoy-00030y-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:53:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8820; Tue, 24 Aug 99 12:51:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7893; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:51:03 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:52:49 EDT Reply-To: Libratsie@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: REPOST: RP: Run for The Ratsies (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9376126b7617155eea4a1eabf32cdaad The evil =20 ham(p)ster got into my original posting of this. McLisa graciously said I could try again. No promises! RUN FOR THE RATSIES (01/01) Time: The NA Conversion Day 5K Everyone used with everyone's permission By Libby Singleton "Wot do ya do h'in one o' these 5 K thingees, Libs?" Screed asked, swatting aside a rat who was chewing on his well-worn running shoes 'borrowed' from Bourbon's belongings several years before. The Ratpack and thousands and thousands of wee lil' ratsies were waiting at the Conversion Day 5K starting gate. "Ya run," Libs explained. "Why?" Johnsie asked. "Sometimes h'it's so's ya kin raise money fer charity," Michele said. "Coooo! We raisin' moo-la fer h'ourshelfishes?" Marissa asked. "Uhr, no, this h'ain't for such this time," Libs said. "Sum'times folks runs fer 'ealth o' h'it," Michele said with an 'oh, yuck' expression. "Don't need none o' tha'," Screed said. "Oi'm fit h'az h'a fiddle-dee-dee." The entire Ratpack paused in their race preparations to consider exactly why they were there. "Put yar thinkin' caps h'on ya noggins," Johnsies ordered, something the group immediately obeyed as they each donned a colorful beanie complete with propellers. Since most of the running outfits they could see around them did not have pockets, it seemed unlikely a lot of change would fall to the ground ripe for the snatching. Some of the Ratpackers occasionally hung out with the Nunkies Anonymous crowd sponsoring the event, but they saw themselves as above the Addicts since they refused to lower themselves to running around in togas (which was not the same thing, after all, as running around in bedsheets borrowed from Merc Central, something that was very Ratpackerish and thus could not in any way be compared to the silly habit of running around in togas). The Ratpackers, despite their guaranteed genuine no-money-back thinking caps bought from a gypsy at a swap meet who looked strangely like the Merc GHP, could not think of any one good reason to be running in a 5K race. While the Ratpack was deep in concentration on this very important matter, LaCroix dropped a yellow daisy toga, announcing "Let the games begin!" In unison, the Ratpack shouted, "Now we know why we're runnin', ta keep from bein' run-ded roight o'er!" Libs then leapt on Johnsies' back, and Screed onto Michele's, so they would not have to run for themselves. Marissa quickly put on a pair of rollarblades, and lassoed Libs and Johnsie to be pulled along, having been inspired by the blind Basset Barnabas' similarly powered skateboard. (Barnbas being very round pooch so not up to long runs, besides he could thus travel along while on his back whining and barking to be petted.) As the Ratpack ran for their Ratpack lives, the thousands and thousands of lil' ratsies also scurried along with the crowd. Other lil' ratsies joined in, creeping from buildings, sewers, drainage ditches, and some seemingly out of no where. Many runners, concentrating at the task at hand, didn't even notice their rodent competition. Kenny the rat, though, did not run. Instead, he peered out of a window observing the other rats. There were lots of other rats, to be sure, but Kenny wasn't satisfied at all. There'd have to be many, many more. He wrung his lil' ratsie pawsies together in anticipation, thinking up a brand new old saying: When Screed's a mortal, the rats will take over. --END-- LibRatsie@aol.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JJsS-0003uQ-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:56:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8844; Tue, 24 Aug 99 12:54:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8326; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:54:31 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:50:25 -0500 Reply-To: Lisa Luksus Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: CUZ: Donuts and Bagels and Flyers, Oh My! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7d4fee174c40082af61493e1636d6669 Donuts and Bagels and Flyers, Oh My! by Cousin Tok Time: Tuesday morning, 8/24, around 10 AM following 'Let the Buyer Beware' Place: between the donut place and CERK Tok left the donut-and-bagel place nearest CERK with a big bag of bagels (various flavors) and a couple of boxes of donuts for the folks doing research on Galen's Cube back at CERK. She chewed a mouthful of her own personal donut choice (chocolate frosted) and contemplated what she would choose from the catalog that had accompanied her PTD coupon. She barely noticed the paper fluttering to the sidewalk and street around her. Hey, during War, who knew what else could fall from the sky? A little paper was nothing to worry about. Until, that is, one of them stuck to the frosting on her donut. Tok pulled it off and read: WARNING! STOLEN TAPESTRY! LET THE BUYER BEWARE! Scanning the flyer showed that *someone* was attempting to auction off the 'Lucius in Repose' tapestry that had been stolen from the NA shrine in the last War. Tok tried to avoid Internet auction sites like Vee Bay as a rule; very dangerous places to go. Somebody had gone to a lot of expense to paper Toronto with these flyers, though, and enough Cousins had been in the slammer already this time around. She chose a few cleaner (i.e., non-chocolate stained) flyers from the sidewalk to put up in the lobby and the War room back at CERK. Hopefully none of the Cousins had already bid on the thing, but she'd make sure nobody tried to in the future. Interesting that Don Schanke was listed as the police contact -- a homicide detective? Obviously he'd taken a personal interest in the case. Tok had never gotten a good look at the tapestry, although she'd heard a great deal about it. Hmmm ... would the Vee Bay auction possibly have a picture? If it hadn't been yanked already, that is. It wouldn't hurt just to have a look, would it? She hurried back to CERK with her bagels, donuts and flyers. Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JJsg-0003vN-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:57:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7673; Tue, 24 Aug 99 12:54:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8365; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:54:46 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:56:17 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Call Me Gertie (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d84502478c4d027a4e3c40c9a1abf573 Title: Call Me Gertie (1/1) Author: Shelley , with permission from Arlettaand Brandi Date: Tuesday, August 24th Time: Around 2pm Disclaimer: Gertrude Tiller is a fictional character = created by me and I give myself full = permission to use her . Shelley and Arletta eyed each nervously. Another = interviewee was due any minute and the two women were = beginning to wonder what would be wrong with THIS one. = So far, they had the klutz lady, Harold's wife who never = stopped talking, the mental patient, and the Swedish woman. "What could go wrong?" Shelley asked nervously. "I dunno, maybe nothing?" Arletta replied, doubt = seeping into her voice. = Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. = Both women cringed, but went to answer it. As they = opened the door, they saw an elderly woman standing = there smiling. "Gertrude Twiller?" Arletta asked. "Yes, dear, but call me Gertie" she said, coming = into the monastery and looking around. "What a = beautiful building! You should give tours of it!" "Uh, ummm, we do..." Shelley interjected, suddenly = confused. "I'm Arletta and this is Shelley" Arletta tried, = leading the woman to the dining room. "Oh that's fine dear, call me Gertie. Now, Scarlet, = was it? Why am I here?" Gertie asked, looking = around again. "Uhhhhh, aren't you interviewing for the tour = guide job?" Shelley asked, feeling her headache = begin to return. "Oh yes, a job, what a nice idea, Telly" she replied. "Um, Shelley". "Yes, yes, dear, call me Gertie". "Ummm, Gertie?" Arletta asked, trying to get the = interview back on track. "Do you have a resume with = you?" "Oh yes, dear, and call me Gertie" she smiled = in return. "Uhhh, could we see it?" Shelley asked, after an = uncomfortable silence. "Oh, silly me!" Gertie replied, rummaging in her = purse. She brought out a rumpled piece of paper = and handed it to Shelley. "Here you go, Kelly". "SHELLEY", Shelley said, getting a bit upset. = She busied herself straightening out the resume = and reading it. "So, Gertie, what do you know about architectural = styles" Arletta asked, once again trying to get the = interview back on track. She was developing an = "interviewee" headache as well. "Oh please, Bartletta, call me Gertie" she said, = for the about the 50th time. "And I love all = kinds of hair styles." Shelley rather timidly spoke up, "Uh, Gertie? On = your resume where it says 'Education'? You have = 'Do I?' I don't quite understand?" "Oh dear, Mellon, call me Gertie! I can't keep = little details like that straight. Do you know = if I have any?" "Any what?" Shelley asked, headache growing. "Any education!" "Uhhhhhhhhhh..." was all Shelley could manage. "Well, ummmm, have you ever given a tour before?" = Arletta asked, clearly trying to ignore Gertie's = obvious, well, problems. "You know, you should give tours of this place! = I once was in Florida" Gertie replied, a far away = look appearing in her eyes. Arletta looked at Shelley as if to say 'help!' Shelley tried again, "Gertie? Why are you here?" "Oh, dear, call me Gertie. I don't know why I'm = here, do you? Oh, by the way, where are we? Is = this the mall? I was once in a mall in Feather City, = Oklahoma. Or was it Georgia? Well, anyway, I had my children with me...do I have any children?" = she looked up expectantly at Arletta. Arletta could take no more. She ran out, hands = on her head, and headed for one of the offices. = Pulling out a jumbo industrial size bottle of = aspirin, she took a handful. She noticed that = the bottle, which had been full at the beginning = of the war, was now almost empty. = Shelley meanwhile had taken Gertie to the door = and dismissed herwith her now famous "Don't call = us, ummm, we'll call you!". After that, she went = in search of the jumbo industrial sized aspirin = bottle herself. ------------------------------------------------- About an hour later, Brandi stuck her head into = the office where Arletta and Shelley had been hiding = in since Gertie's interview. "Ummm, guys?" Brandi asked, noting their strained = expressions. "What?" Arletta sighed. "There is someone named Gertie wandering around = the kitchen asking for directions to the balcony = seating??" All Brandi heard in response was groaning. From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JKZw-00025j-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 13:41:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9240; Tue, 24 Aug 99 13:39:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5220; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 13:39:08 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 13:39:26 EDT Reply-To: DanaKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Judy Freudenthal Subject: WAR: NP: Just Another Night at Natalie's 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 11caf66d0c3e67ac3d1f53b7293f4f58 Just Another Night at Natalie's 1/1 Natalie's apartment Monday night, Aug 23, 1999 Natalie and the NP'ers used with permission. by Judith Freudenthal with a little help from the NP. aka DanaKnight@aol.com Judy headed for the the kitchen to hunt down something to snack on. While she was out Meg noticed a spiral bound book in Judy's bag, the cover catching her attention. Curious and hoping Judy wouldn't mind, Meg pulled the book out of the bag and settled back into her spot to read. Judy came out with her chocolate fudge poptarts and bottle of water. She settled with her book. She didn't even notice Meg reading her book. As she snacked, Judy's mind wandered to the gift from the NA Bonnie who'd very reluctantly given her the envelope meant for the faction leaders. When Bonnie had been reassured by several NP'ers that the leaders weren't home and they'd get the envelope, she hesitated before giving the envelope to Judy, but knew she had several other deliveries to make and little time in which to do so. Judy set the envelope aside so that either Jill or Debra Ann could open it when they returned. They returned a short time later. Debra Ann opened the envelope, saw the golden ticket and the message. She looked at her co-leader "Do we need a personal tranquility device?" Jill shook her head. "I don't think so. Not as long as the beauty parlor is around." A big grin spread across her face just thinking about the place. "You're right," Debra Ann said. "Can I hold onto that for you? I've lost my bookmark and it would work perfectly." Judy asked. "Sure." Debra Ann said, knowing it would be in safe hands. She handed the pretty, bright, shiny, thing over to Judy. "Thanks," Judy said as she marked her place in her book. "I wonder if Nat would find this interesting or probably already knows the info. It explains how skin grafts are collected and used." Upon seeing the strange looks from the other NP's around the loft she quickly held up the cover for all to see. When the group saw it was the latest novel about a couple of FBI Agents who deal with the really weird their attention returned to whatever they were doing. "She probably already knows the info," Robyn said. Debra Ann looked over the bodies in the place and saw the one reading the spiral bound book. A small grin crossed her face as she headed over to Judy. "Is that your copy?" Debra Ann asked her. "Yeah. I threw one into my bag figuring the 'Pack might like to read it if things got really dull or too insane out there." Natalie entered, seeing that her apartment was only partially full of her followers and decided not to ask where the others were. She knew that sometimes ignorance really was a good thing, especially in War time. Natalie had made it half way to the kitchen before the bound book caught her attention. "Is that some new journal I haven't heard about?" Natalie took a closer look at the cover of Coroner Tales. "Why is my picture on it, and what happened?" "Umm......." Judy stammered, forgetting that Nat might see it, and turned bright red. "I, I had to do something that would catch people's attention." "It sure caught mine. Would you care to do a little explaining?" Natalie asked. "Maybe later. Right now I have a question for you," Judy said steering the attention away from the other book. "Okay." Natalie wasn't sure if she really wanted to know the story behind the picture. "What would you like to know?" "Well... I'm reading this book and was wondering if it was accurate." Judy showed Natalie the parts that had caused her comments to the 'Pack earlier. "What's this?" Natalie pointed to the golden ticket. "Oh, it's a certificate from the Nunkies Anonymous for one Personal Tranquility Device of our choice. It was given to Jill and Debra Ann. I'm just holding onto it for them." While Natalie looked at the book Judy had given her, several NatPacker heads popped up. An idea was brewing. Jill, Debra Ann, Robyn, Meg, Judy and a couple of other 'Packer's gathered together over by Natalie's bedroom and talked in hushed tones. "What if we used the coupon for Nat? With all of us invading, she probably could use it?" Judy asked. Debra Ann thought a moment and nodded her agreement. Several others nodded their agreement as well. "What do we get her?" Debra Anna asked. There was silence as no one seemed to know just what would be the perfect tranquility device for Nat. Everyone had a completely different idea. One of them was the permanent death of LaCroix. Someone suggested Nick's finally admitting once and for all that he did love Natalie. Another wanted Nat with anyone but Nick so she would be able to find happiness. There were a few other ideas, but no concensus. the end? PS Coroner Tales is a real zine. From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JL0W-0007Jg-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 14:09:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9446; Tue, 24 Aug 99 14:02:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8540; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 14:02:28 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:04:06 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR: Nothers/Mercs: "A Nother Horse Tale" (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a8fef631f7e981594c2b0a6521c5194b All real people used by permission. Daf is the joint property of the Nothers faction. This story takes place concurrent to and immediately following "Chariots on Fire." "A Nother Horse Tale" by NightDancer (with input from Fleurette and Liz the Lucky) NA Shrine Monday, August 23 1:00 PM Only after the horses had been hitched up, as they were wheeling the chariot out to the starting line, did Liz finally whip off the sheet to reveal her and Kat's handiwork. For some odd reason, it was painted a deep, rich, royal purple. On one side, a large gilt "N" was bisected by a silver question mark, the Nothers' unofficial symbol. The other side sported a very nice oil portrait of Nat, which had been painted by Liz. On each side of where the driver would stand were two plush-cushioned seats which were bolted to the floor. The cushions were the same purple as the chariot, as were their accompanying seatbelts. "What's with the purple?" Dancer asked. "Like it? I thought it should be our new official faction color. Fleurette said we'd put it to a vote as soon as the War's over." "Yeah, I like it. It does seem appropriate, since we live in a castle." The chariot was drawn by four horses, all from the Nothers' stables; Fleurette's Sibyl, Liz's Superstar, Kat's Comet and NightDancer's Heston. "Here's how I see it," Dancer explainined her choice of horses. "Since Liz and Kat and Fleurette and I all share a brain sometimes, I figure our horses do too. And a team that thinks as one should be an advantage in a race, don't you think?" Fleurette just shook her head. She may share her friend's brain, but sometimes the other girl's logic still eluded her. "Whatever you say, Jewelz." "Hey, if it works, it works," Liz said. "Right, Kat?" "Right, Liz." They reached the starting line, and the three Nothers (and one stableboy) who weren't riding in the chariot began to back off, while the other three climbed in. "Good Luck!" Elladara called to them. "And don't kill anyone!" Fleurette and Jeanne shouted together, their eyes dancing. NightDancer, Liz and Kat waved as the rest of their faction made their way back to the crowd of spectators. "Okay, now, who wants to drive?" Dancer asked. Kat and Liz's only reply was to sit down and buckle their seatbelts. The other girl looked worriedly at both of them. "Are you sure about this, guys? I don't even drive a car." The two cybersibs giggled. "That's okay," Kat smirked. "Neither do we." One of Dancer's eyebrows shot up and an impish grin began to spread over her face. She turned, picked up the reins and squared her shoulders, still grinning. "Ladies, get ready for the ride of your lives!" As soon as all the chariots were ready at the line, LaCroix (or Nunkies, as NA called him), dropped what looked like a daisy-covered yellow toga, and they were off! How do you get to CERK again? Dancer called. Beats the hell outa me, Liz shouted back. Just follow the leaders. But what if we pull ahead of the leaders? Kat asked. Pray! was Dancer s short reply. "I think we're catching up!" Kat called excitedly a few minutes later from where she was leaning back in her seat to see the leaders. Encouraged, NightDancer shook the reins and the four horses picked up their pace a little bit. "You think?" "Yeah, well, that depends on whether the leaders are a lap ahead of us or not," the other girl explained. "I wasn't keeping track." Are we doing laps? Dancer glanced into the crowd and saw Daf staring intently at them from his place beside Fleurette. Apparently, the Nothers had cut a few corners to keep up with their speeding team. Daf was apparently concerned about the horses, but the intentness of his glare nonetheless explained Kat's distraction a moment ago. She grinned. "Well, I can see why you weren t keeping track." "Hey!" Liz shouted suddenly. The chariot driver's head whipped around and she pulled sharply to the right, just in time to avoid running into the crowd. "Keep your eyes on the road, please!" the breathless redhead exclaimed, gripping the edges of her seat with white knuckles. NightDancer was about to retort when suddenly Kat screamed, "Rat!" "Rats what?" she shouted back. "Are they a lap ahead?" "RAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Kat repeated, pointing ahead of them. Directly in their path, a pink rat was sitting stone-still on its haunches, its little eyes big as a horse's with terror. But before the Nothers' co-founder could pull their chariot away, the four horses spied the little animal and shied like the one-brained organism Dancer had supposed them to be. "EEEK!!!!" she shrieked, scrambling not to lose her hold on the reins. In her panic, though, they slipped from her grasp and in that moment, Sibyl, Superstar, Comet and Heston all decided to bolt. Dancer was thrown back--fortunately Liz and Kat grabbed an arm each before she could tumble out of the chariot. On the sidewalk, Fleurette jumped to her feet. "Where are they going??" she exclaimed in alarm, as the purple chariot made a sudden, sharp turn off-course and began thundering away. "My horses!" Daf gasped. "Nononononono!!!" The Nothers' Warleader began to scramble over the spectators around her, struggling to get to the street. Daf grabbed her arms to steady her so she couldn't take a tumble and hurt the baby. (Even though Fleurette was not one of the faction members who used him as a substitute-drool-object, he still felt a little responsible for her. After all, without her, he wouldn't have a job at le Chateau.) "Careful," he cautioned her, then shouted "Coming through!" to the crowd, who squeezed together as closely as possible to let them out. Reaching the edge of the mob, Fleurette darted (very unwisely) into the street and stared in bleak dismay in the direction where the chariot had disappeared. Already only a slowly settling cloud of dust remained. "Now what?" she cried, exasperated. Daf looked a bit miserable as well. "I can't believe I left three unexperienced drivers in charge of my horses!" Looking over at the distraught stableboy, Fleurette sighed. She had to admit, he was cute when he was upset, even if she didn't drool over his lookalike like her the other three. Still, it wouldn't do to have him still upset when the girls got back--they would be crushed if he were mad at them. She gave him a comforting pat on the arm. "Don't worry. Jewelz may not know what she's doing, but the horses probably do. If nothing else, they should be able to find their way home, right?" He looked doubtful for a minute, then nodded. "Probably, yes." At that moment, the remaining Nothers finally made their way to their faction leader's side. "What happened?" Elladara asked. "They got spooked by something," Jeanne deduced. Daf nodded. "A pink rat. Not that I blame them--that would spook me too, I think." "But we left the pink rats at the DP mansion!" Fleurette protested. "We did," Elladara agreed, frowning. "But apparently one of them left, so at least one of the DPs' demons must be back." "So what do we do now?" Fleurette's mom asked her daughter. Fleurette shrugged. "Well, if they don't get back by the time the race is over, I say we enjoy the festivities. We have to go back to the Chateau anyway to change for tonight--hopefully they'll be there if they don't come back here." Meanwhile... "Are you all right?" Liz asked, as Dancer finally managed to grab ahold of the edge of the speeding chariot and pull herself to her feet. The other girl nodded breathlessly. "Except my arms feel like they've been pulled out of their sockets. Which I don't mind, since it was either that or my life. Thanks, guys." "You're welcome," they chorused. NightDancer rubbed her shoulders and tightened her grip on the chariot. "I think we'd better install another seatbelt in this thing if we ever use it again," she stated wryly. With her free hand, she tried to reach for the reins, which were bouncing merrily on the backs of the two closest horses, Superstar and Comet. "Anyone have any idea where we are?" "Still in Toronto," Liz supplied less than helpfully. "Look on the bright side," Kat added. "We're getting to see the city--we'd always been too busy before to really enjoy the sights." Dancer made another grab for the reins and almost lost her balance. The two cybersibs threw their arms out, just in case, but she managed to hang on to the chariot even though the horses were still out of control. "You're telling me I should think of it as a high-speed horse-and-buggy tour of Toronto?" she asked. The other two grinned in reply. "Something like that," Kat agreed. "Hey, look," Liz pointed. "I think we just passed the Raven." "Wow, I didn't know we were even on that street." Dancer had finally given up on getting control of the horses and was now just trying to hang on and enjoy the sights at the same time, which was no easy task. "We weren't when we left the race course," Liz concurred. The ex-driver grimaced. "Great, that means we're lost. And there's no way I'm ever gonna be able get those reins back." END _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JLcN-0004sZ-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 14:48:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0044; Tue, 24 Aug 99 14:43:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6901; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 14:43:42 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 11:42:05 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR: Nothers/Mercs: One Necklace for a Nother 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 435d5421cf3745beefbccf96b5037536 Title: One Necklace for a Nother 01/01 written by: Fleurette B & Liz the lucky Place: Chateau des Autres and a Swap meet Time: Sunday, 22 Aug, 1999. This story follows "A Nother Opportunity Lost 01/01" Disclaimers: Fleurette & Nothers used by our own permission. Libby used briefly by her permission. ************* "Libby! Lib-beeeeeeeeeee!" Fleurette called into the RatPacker tunnels beneath le Chateau des Autres. After a while, the RatPacker popped her head out of the tunnel and blinked up at Fleurette. "Libby," said Fleurette. "I need to know if you happened to find a necklace when you were picking up the costumes the other day." ************* "So what'd Libby say?" Kat asked. "Does she have it and is she going to give it back?" Other querying eyes stared at Fleurette as she faced her faction. "She doesn't have it anymore," she told them. "Anymore?" Liz repeated. "Where is it now?" "She took it with her to the Swap Meet and traded it for more Shiney Pretties," said the faction leader. "Wonderful," Kat said sarcastically. "I suppose we have to go and get it back now." "Gee, Kat!" Fleurette's sarcastic side was showing today as well. "How'd you guess?" "She's smart that way," Liz answered. ************ "This is going to be fun," NightDancer said, breaking into a wide grin. The swap meet lay before them--one huge warehouse filled with booths and people. Lots of deals were there to be had, but the Nothers were only interested in one thing. "Split up, gang!" Fleurette told them. While Fleurette flitted from boot to booth looking at all the jewery to be had, her friends all went in different directions. Each had their own special brand of luck. After several hours, each of them returned with a different necklace. None of them were the right one. Fleurette sighed. "There's only one place left," she said. "bring your stuff and come with me." The Nothers followed her over to the last booth at the swap meet with jewelry. By chance, Fleurette managed to find the cube-shaped pendant, but she had to trade *all* of the other necklaces and baubles to get it. This included the ring Liz had found and had wanted to keep for herself. After much haggling, the weary Nothers returned home to prepare for the following days events. ************* The End _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JLic-0001eD-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 14:54:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0120; Tue, 24 Aug 99 14:49:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7940; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 14:49:40 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:55:45 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP: Of Lilies, Peeps and Slackers (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 66fdb85935b39571b241c15f04cfca7c WAR: DP: Of Lilies, Peeps and Slackers Place: DP Mansion Time: Sunday the 22th, after 'the V-team' By: Cousin Mary Ren, Mary and the other DPs came giggling in the door of DP Mansion soon after the Bad Movie Marathon at the local Cinema Odious had grind to a thankful halt. "God, those movies were so bad it was almost painful!" Carly laughed, cringing as she remembered the screening of that cinematic classic 'Debutantes from Mars.' "Hey!" Mary paused, hands on hips, "I happened to like 'Devil's Patio,' it was kinda good!" Ren giggled, "In an at-least-it's-not-dental-surgery kind of way, yeah!" Mary stuck her tongue out at her friend and bounded up the stairs, "I think I have it on tape in my room! We can watch it again!" The Thugs groaned good-naturedly, well used to their list-mommy's penchant for bad movies, and headed off to the kitchen for some coffee (it -had- been nearly 20 minutes since their last java stop after all!) "Ack!" Carly and Ren were somehow able to drag themselves away from the java-refueling station to see why Mary was screaming, but alas, the rest of the DP weren't going to move until the coffee was finished brewing and a good portion of it was in their blood streams. "Mary!" Carly raced up the stairs (quite a sight since she was dressed in a skin-tight lime green vinyl mini and 5 inch purple platform heels) "Are you alright? What's wrong?" "Why are you screaming?" Ren came up and joined them on the second floor landing, then noticed where Mary was staring with a look of utter horror. "Oh my god!" "Wha-?" Carly began, but then she too noticed. The silver mirror, their beloved silver mirror had been... violated! Stenciled right in the center was a callalilly! "What the-?! Who did this?! I'll have their heads!" The petite red head bellowed. "Me too!" Ren growled, then realized they -both- couldn't have the heads, "I'll take their spleens!" Mary just stared, her mouth slightly opened, "We've been attacked, and-" She trailed off, who could have done this? "Maybe it'll come off?" Carly tried, "Turpentine maybe? Or-?" "Hey! Look!" Ren pointed, "It's the mirror!" The trio turned and watched a few dark pink demons hauling a very familiar silver mirror out of a nearby closet (of course the demons wanted to chuck it off the balcony and watch it shatter, but the gals got to it first) "Do you think this is our real mirror?" Carly asked, then squealed with joy as the mirror gave her a flash of a certain hockey team's locker room... at just the right angle. "Oh yeah, this is the real mirror!" The DPs snatched the mirror up and rehung it where it belonged, letting the demons have the fake to destroy as their twisted little minds saw fit. "I wonder who did that?" Mary mumbled, making sure the mirror was perfectly level before continuing on to her room to get that tape. Thinking of Emma, the Vaq they'd kidnapped, she added, "You two go check on the prisoner okay?" Ren and Carly shrugged as one and headed back downstairs to fetch some blessed caffeine juice before checking on the bound and gagged cowpoke. "Ack!" Ren and Carly blinked, then turned and raced upstairs again. This time finding Mary standing in the doorway of her room. "What is it now?" "What'd they take?" "Ack!" Mary pointed, then screamed again, "Ack! Ack! Ack!" Carly and Ren peerd around Mary and gasped. The Godmommy's room was literally filled with bright yellow peeps! Every inch of wall, ceiling, floor, furniture and windows were wallpapered with hundreds of sugary, sweet marshmallow bunnies. They turned and looked at Mary again, who had gone from sheet white to a bright pink. "I -hate- peeps!" She yelled. "Why did it have to be peeps! Why not tin foil? Or a horse's head in my bed? Why did it have to be PEEPS?!?!?" Ren and Carly exchanged a glance, then physically dragged their ranting and raving leader away from her bedroom. "Come on Mary, we'll get a new recruit to clean that up. Let's go get you some coffee." "I don't want coffee!" Mary screamed, "I want the blood of my enemies!!" They nearly dropped her, "You don't want -coffee-?!" Mary seethed a bit longer, but now that the despicable spun sugar confections were out of her immediate eyesight, she calmed down somewhat, "Well, maybe one cup." The trio slowly made their way downstairs, Mary's unsteady legs making the trip extra slow. "I'm going to go check on Emma," Carly said suddenly, bounding off in that general direction, "If she's gone we'll know it was the cowpokes." Mary nodded, then leaning heavily on Ren, headed towards the kitchen. "Don't worry Mary," Ren said soothingly, "A mocha will make it all better, you'll see." The sight that greeted the two blonde thugs was surreal. The coffee was done brewing, but the Thugs all laid around listlessly. They hardly moved other than to breath and occasionally blink. They looked lazy, nearly like... "Slackers!" Ren gasped. Just then Carly came running back in, "Well Emma's gone! That means it was the-" "We know," Mary and Ren nodded and pointed Carly's attention to the slackin' Thugs. "Looks like it's contagious, slackeritis." "Oh no!" Carly yelped, "What'll we do?!" "Quick! There's only one cure!" Mary straightened, and forgetting the evil peeps, took charge once again, "We've got to make an emergency run... Everyone to Buckstars!" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cousin Mary ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JM1O-0002Ya-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 15:14:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9081; Tue, 24 Aug 99 15:11:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1657; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 15:11:57 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:13:41 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR:Nothers: A Nother Ooopsey! 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b20dd49bfdfad4ebc306708131eea444 Title: A Nother Ooopsey! 01/01 written by: Fleurette B. Place: Office of Fleurette & NightDancer, le Chateau des Autres Time: Tuesday , late morning, sometime after "Let the Buyer Beware 01/01" Disclaimers: I'm just following orders here, so don't sue. me, myself and I used by permission. ************* Fleurette stared at the e-mail she'd received in disbelief. What she'd been bidding on was the *real* "Lucius in Repose"? And she hadn't known it was stolen? Well, what can you expect? She'd only left War 9 early on account of moving to Mississippi earlier than planned, then got too caught up in her Scout Mistress duties... and finally left the Shrine all together to join up with the Nothers at le Chateau. "Thank goodness I didn't actually get the thing!" Fleurette said to herself as she thought of what jail time would mean-- *real* bad publicity for the Nothers and possible expulsion from Nunkies Anonymous. "Of course", Fleurette thought as she hit "Compose" and sent out a warning message to all her friends, "If I *had* bought it, I could have alays given it back to Nunkies and probably gotten a big reward in the process." ************ The End Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JMDO-0006S7-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 15:26:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7026; Tue, 24 Aug 99 15:23:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3244; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 15:23:01 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 12:29:30 -0700 Reply-To: "Laura K. Griffin" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Laura K. Griffin" Subject: WAR: DP: Young Lucius: The Legendary Mortal Years 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ae32353bbb941facd75568c671390aec WAR: DP: Young Lucius: The Legendary Mortal Years 01/01 by Laura Griffin Time: August 23, Monday morning in the wee hours Place: Dark Perk Mansion Permission granted for those included in this story. "Friends! Romans! Addicts! Lend me your ears!" John-Travis rolled his eyes after speaking the lines. He was genuinely sorry that he'd ever opened that package. However, the minute he saw who it was from, he'd torn the seal on the thick envelope and found the script that he was now rehearsing in a secret cave hidden beneath the Dark Perk Mansion. The sender of that package knew that he was actor...and knew that he'd be attending Conversion Day festivities at the NA Shrine. ***Flashback -- Two weeks earlier*** Cousin Dee, Nunkies Addict Extraordinaire, was sitting at her computer terminal when she heard the phone ring. Sighing, she left the room to see who dared interrupt her quiet time. Dee didn't turn around to see her teenaged daughter, Carrie, take her place at the terminal. "What's this?" Carrie whispered as she looked at the screen. The young brunette's eyes opened wide as she read the script that was displayed on the screen. She knew about her mother's addiction to the 2,000 year old vampire, and though she didn't really comprehend it, she got chills as she read the script about Lacroix's early years. "Oh my!" she sighed wistfully. "This is something that must be performed, and I know just the person I'd like to see in a toga!" The pretty young woman hit the print command and soon she had the full script in her hands. "Whatcha ya got there, Carrie?" Dee had finished her phone call and returned to the computer only to find her daughter leafing through a freshly printed document. "Um....nothing really. Just a ... thing ... I printed off for a friend." Carrie hurried out of the room before her mother could question her further. She smiled as she held the script tightly to her and went to her room to find an envelope for her prize. "Yep...I know just who to send this to!" She penned a note onto the first page, quickly stuffed the script into the envelope, and wrote an address onto it that would get the play into the hands of her young actor friend who happened to be a Dark Perk...and who's DP mother was also a Nunkies Addict. ***End Flashback*** John-Travis turned the script back to the first page and glanced at the note that was handwritten by his friend. He'd met Carrie during the Dark Perk California Insanity Assemblage 1999 and was quite smitten by her beauty. He smiled (and blushed) at the thought of her sparkling eyes, and re-read the words she'd written: "Dear John-Travis -- Found this script and immediately thought of you! Just in time for Conversion Day, don't you think?! Can't wait to see you at the Shrine! Love, Carrie" He cleared his throat as he thrust his Pompeiin dagger upward and said, "Today is indeed a great day!" He paused, shook his head, and wondered at the depths of his devotion to his friend and to his mother. "Young Lucius indeed!" his whispered as he went to find the rest of his costume. --- Cousin Laura -- The Dark CERK Perk "Even though you're refracted, you're still you." -- 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile' From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JMVX-000488-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 15:45:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0643; Tue, 24 Aug 99 15:40:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5854; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 15:40:59 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 13:45:40 -0600 Reply-To: Kimberly Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: "An Old Friend & A New One" Part 1 of 1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4952c61218c314d8e798d173a42d58f9 "An Old Friend & A New One" by Kimberly S. Brown Date: Tuesday morning, August 24, 1999 Time: Around 10ish Kimberly, Teresa and Caroline walked into the bar area of the Raven. Janette was deep in conversation with a man that looked familiar to Kimberly. She was having trouble remembering his name. The man turned to the three Ravenettes, standing up and smiling at them. Felix Twist. It was the botanist, Felix Twist. Kimberly noticed that he was not nearly as pale as the last time she had seen him. No doubt it was because he was mortal, too. Janette motioned for the three to pull up a bar stool and sit down with them. "Kimberly, you remember Felix, yes?" she asked, with a happy lilt in her voice. "Yes, yes of course I do! How very nice to see you again, Felix!". Kimberly meant it, too. She always liked Felix. She was wondering, too, how long he had been at the Raven. For the Stargazer lillies that had been brought to the Raven for the opening night party, at least half of them were still blooming gloriously throughout their living quarters. Kimberly knew that it couldn't be plain old water she had seen Alma spritzing them with every day. Kimberly suspected that Felix had been here with the other ex-vamps that frequented the club for the whole war. Felix was a fascinating man. Well-educated, well-travelled. Felix was a scholar. Kimberly knew he was a man of many interests, and had spent his life as a vampire in the pursuit of knowledge. Botany was his greatest passion, and something he excelled in, but it was not his only one. Kimberly had to admit being a little surprised to see him here. Felix was not a party animal. He was not searching for mortality like Nick was, but he did not revel in the vampiric lifestyle that Janette and those who usually surrounded her did. No, Felix had to be here for a reason. Janette quickly answered her unasked questions. "I have asked the three of you to join Felix and I. You know that Tracy Vetter and I have become friends. I know that when it is not war time, the three of you have rooms at the Dark Perk Mansion." All three Ravenettes were thankful they were not drinking when Janette said that. For there would have been three spewing messes to clean up. Their shock at finding out that Janette knew about their Dark Perk proclivities showed on their faces. They were lucky girls, because Janette found their discomfort most amusing. Janette continued. "Felix and I are going over to the Dark Perk Mansion today to visit with Cousin Mary. I need Felix's opinion on something. Since you three know Cousin Mary and the Mansion so well, I want you to accomodate us". Miklos appeared out of thin air. He could still do that. The man moved like a jungle cat. He had a briefcase in his hands. Miklos gave the briefcase, at Janette's nod, to Felix. Felix, Janette and the three Ravenettes headed out to a waiting limo. They were going to the Dark Perk Mansion. -- Kimberly Ravenettes faction leader, war 10 aol im kimmertom icq #9306895 http://members.tripod.com/LeeAnnP/raven/index.htm http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu From - Tue Aug 24 18:33:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JOWI-0004lc-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 17:54:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1777; Tue, 24 Aug 99 17:50:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2022; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 17:50:53 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 16:51:13 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: NA/FoD: A little FoD-er for the Fire 02/03 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 30fbf214f736124e8bbf20bd1afc42d0 WAR: NA/FoD: A little FoD-er for the Fire 02/03 By Cindy Brewer When: Monday, August 23, 1999 Comes between: NA: Conversion Day 1999 01/07 and 03/07 Where: The Shrine of Nunkies Permission granted by all involved "Rav!"Cindy Brewer shouted as the FoD's walked up the front walk of the Nunkie shrine. "Rav!"Cindy called again to the brown haired girl walking in front of her. Rav stopped so suddenly that she nearly caused a seven person pile up,"Yeah?" Cindy grinned at her friend,"Stop bouncing you'll drop the pan of Tiropita." "But its a party."Rav protested as the group paused a few feet from the front door,"bouncing's allowed." Cindy struggled to hold the huge,very hot,pan of Pastichio,"Yes but the festivities haven't started yet and they won't unless we get all of this food into the kitchen." Rav relented,"Okay."She replied as she turned and once again led the group into the Nunkie Shrine. "Why are we doing this again?"Kathy asked as she balanced a plate of Calamari and a plate of Galaktobouriko. "Because Schanke asked us."Cindy replied silently thanking who ever invented hot pads. "And its being held at the Nunkie Shrine because....."Spiff asked from behind Kathy as she struggled with a stack of twenty plates and a crate of silverware. Cindy grinned,"Where else would we hold a Greek celebration?" "Point taken."Spiff replied with a grin just as the group stepped into the foyer of the Shrine. "Patt!"Cindy called recognizing the Third Cousin,"Where do you want us to stash this stuff?" "Cindy,great to see you."Patt replied with a smile,"Take this corridor all the way to the end and the kitchen's to your right." "Thanks."Cindy replied as a few FoD's scooted past her in a hurry to drop their burden in the kitchen before limbs fell off. "You might want to tell them to watch out for Egrus Toga he tends to get under foot."Patt stated gesturing to the small robot by the far wall. "Will do."Cindy replied as she moved to the center of the room,"We'll put this stuff away then set up the other stuff." From - Tue Aug 24 18:33:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JOhh-0005ER-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 18:06:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8472; Tue, 24 Aug 99 18:03:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5137; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 18:03:40 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 15:05:08 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR: Nothers: Here a Duck, There a Duck, Everywhere a Nother Duck 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c2e8834b67764b470870d4c5384a4955 Title: Here a Duck, There a Duck, Everywhere a Nother Duck 01/01 written by: Fleurette B. Place: Streets of TO, outside the Shrine to Nunkies, or where ever all the vents were being held *after* the 5K & Chariot races Time: Monday, 23 Aug, 1999, after the 5K & Chariot Races, concurrent to anf following, "A Nother Horse Tail 01/01" Disclaimers: Elladara, Jeanne, and Fleurette used by their own permission. Daf, ebing fictional and belonging to Nothers, doesn't care. No ducks harmed in the making of this story. ************ After the charioteers disappeared down the street in the wrong direction, Jeanne finally convinced the remaining Nothers (and Daf) to walk around and see what they could see. People were milling about, and the group decided to join them in some of the fun and games. **Quack!** The noise came from behind them quite suddenly. **Quack!** The group turned to see a small group of ducks waddling behind them. "Aren't those the ducks from the 5K?" Elladara asked Fleurette. "I don't know," Fleurette replied. To the lead duck, she said, "Are you the ducks who followed us from the park?" "Quack!" the duck replied. "It's them," Fleurette said. "I guess they didn't want to miss out on the fun." ************ Everywhere the four went, they found that the ducks had followed them: Jeanne saw two ducks waiting in line behind her at the body painting booth. They quacked happily at her and flapped their feathery wings. Elladara and Fleurette matched wits with the highly intelligent duck leader for all the guessing games. He beat them both twice. He then went on to join three of his co-horts at the Bobbing for Peaches booth. Each duck came away with a peach between its bill. And Daf... well, he somehow managed to stir clear of them altogether. Maybe theducks recognized him to be as fictinal as they were? Maybe they just didn't want to go near KC? But whatever the reason, Daf walked over to the KC dunking booth and win stuffed animals for all six of his Nother women, both the drooling and the non. ************ At the end of the afternoon, the four tired friends made their way back to the van. And what do you suppose they found waiting for them at the van? Six ducks, including the small female Liz had previously held and the smart one who acted as leader. Daf loaded the van while the women climbed into the van. Before he could close thevan door, however, the ducks moved as one body and climbed inside. "Looks like we've got hitch-hikers," Daf told Fleurette as he started up the car. "Want me to drop them off at the park on our way out?" Fleurette thought about it and turned to look at the ducks. "Do you want to go back to your pond?" she asked the ringleader. "Quack, quack!" he replied. "No," Fleurette told Daf. "They want to come home with us." ************* The End Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Tue Aug 24 18:33:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JOnK-0000vf-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 18:11:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2090; Tue, 24 Aug 99 18:06:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5814; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 18:06:38 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 18:08:24 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: Getting Back To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8c187612b0bc9e8d0b3f8127dec6dd1b WAR: Independent/CGW: Getting Back by Brenda Bell Follows: The Atholl Brose **** The Fiendish Glow Office, Friday afternoon, 20 August, mid-afternoon Pen yawned and reached for the large mug of coffee sitting on her desk. "Bills. Bills. Taxes. Statements. Bills. Reports. Bills. Taxes. Damn, this stuff is tedious," she said, standing and stretching every muscle in her body. The fuming Cousin in Plaid banged the door and stomped in, an equally angry Lucius trailing behind her. "I dowan believe it," she stormed. "I just dowan believe it." "What's up, Heather?" the taller woman asked, glad for a break -- any break. "Chris was *supposed* tae watch Lucius while I went for my wedding-toga-fitting this afternoon. Here's Lucius, my fittin's in a half-oor, an' Chris is naewhere tae be foond. Men!" she said, plopping herself into the nearest chair. Lucius took his mistress's sitting down as a signal that it was okay for him to go exploring. Finding appropriate way-points, he crawled up into MacHeather's lap and jumped onto the desk, scattering Pen's documents all over the place. "Lucius!" the two women scolded. The cat sat down on the desk and rubbed a thoughtful paw across the side of his head. "Down frae there!" MacHeather told him. "Make me," Lucius responded. It came out as "Meow-oww." As the Cousin in Plaid went to grab the black feline, it escaped across the hutch, making a circuit about the room and coming to land on the desk that still held the large, ursidine object that had come packed in with Brenda's clothes. He nudged the vampbear, sniffing it carefully, noted that it didn't respond to him, and then decided it was in the way of a good grooming spot. "Go take a flight," he told the vampbear, butting it out of his way towards the front of the desk. "Lucius!" MacHeather scolded from her chair, just as the vampbear came tumbling off the desk, its artificial-nail fangs connecting with the side of her neck. "Ouch!" she said, lifting the two kilograms of fluff and fur from her neck and lap. "That hurt!" she said, shaking the bear as she turned him around to look at her. "I was hungry. You were there. You smell of Atholl Brose... *honey*..." the vampbear told her, threatening to attack again. The woman ignored the bear and went after the feline again. "Lucius!" The fangs engaged the Addict just above the swell of her breasts. "That's it!" she said, slamming the vampbear back on the desk. "I've had enough of this," she said, storming back out the door. "Hold on a minute!" Pen yelled back. "Hold on," she said, her voice lowering and taking on a hint of evil. "You want to get Brenda back for that filk?" she said, moving her eyes from Heather to the vampbear and back. Heather turned and followed Pen's look, coming to rest on the vampbear that had already attacked her *twice*, and had sprained Pen's wrist as well. "Aye," she said, getting the same idea. "Hey, you," she addressed the vampbear, "how'd you like to help the Addicts set up for a bridal shower?" ***** The Toronto Compu-Geek store, the same time "You're *certain* about this, Chris?" Brenda asked, as he shoved the box into her hands. "She'll *love* it," he told her. "She's a big Braveheart fan." "Right," the woman answered skeptically, noting the man's drool. "Then how come she's never mentioned it?" "'s a secret passion," he said. "She lo'es lookin' a' the man in kilts," he smiled, looking down on the MacDuff sett lying above his own exposed knees. "And men in togas. I know..." Chris flinched at the word "toga", thinking of Heather's Nunkies addiction. "Look, I think I'm in the doghouse enough after that filk. Though she should know by now, I can never resist the opportunity to filk..." "She'll lo' it," the man insisted. "Just like you love 'First Knight'?" the woman asked, wondering how anyone could enjoy a film that totally wrecked any shred of the centuries-old Arthurian legends. Chris flinched. "First night -- any night -- is *my* night, not *his* night. I dinna care wha' the law is, she's *mine*." "I meant the Sean Connery and Richard Gere film." "I dinna care *wha'* movie star has designs on m' lassie, she's *my* lassie." Brenda sighed. Time to change tack. "You're sure you don't need any of the more traditional stuff -- dishes, flatware, serving pieces, linens?" Chris shook his head. "Heather said the Faer Hibernians'll be providin' a lot of tha' stoof, an' at a discoont, a' that." *Discount*. Beautiful music to the ears of any Scot, or anyone of Scottish descent. "An' look -- there's a one-day-only discoont wi' a mail-in rebate for 'Braveheart: The Game'," he deliberately noted. Brenda calculated out the end result of the mail-in rebate... like most of the computer software and accessories she and Frank had, it would be a legal copy -- and would end up costing almost nothing. "You've sold me," she said, heading towards the check-out line. *And if she doesn't go for it, I can always find something else, later.* ******************* Upstairs at the Fiendish Glow, just before the bridal shower "Tell me agin where you're going?" "For the thoosandth time, sweetie, the Addicts are holdin' a shoower for me." "An' ye can't shoower here?" "A *bridal* shoower, love. Where ye get food and presents and soch." "Is *he* gowan t' be there, too?" MacHeather shrugged. "He's been invited. Dowan knae if he'll shew or nae." The MacCousin readjusted her tartan toga to cover the bruised scratches on her neck and breast. *No need for Chris to question my loyalty to him*, she reasoned. "The 'General's' been de-vamped," Brenda reminded her friend's fiance. "Besides, Pen and I and all the addicts will be there to protect her." "You? Protect her?" Chris scoffed, looking at the heavyset woman in Edwardian fluffery and her pixie-ish companion in tailored silk slacks with a matching silk sweaterblouse. "I've studied martial arts," Pen said. "And if worst comes to worst, I do have my handbag," Brenda leered. The 4+ kilogram Coach shoulder bag, given a full circle's warm-up, could pack a considerable wallop -- except that it telegraphed itself a mile away. "I'll be okay, Chris," MacHeather comforted him again. "An' I'll be back afore ye know it." The three women picked up their handbags, tote bags, and boxes and left for the party. ******************** Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Tue Aug 24 18:32:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JLZf-0001IA-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 14:45:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6633; Tue, 24 Aug 99 14:41:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6438; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 14:41:34 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 14:40:03 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Having mail problems, please use my Earthlink address X-cc: "fkwarlocks@egroups.com \"ForeverKnight Warlock\"" To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 820516d96d5554d58dc790977054f0b2 Dorsai's been having some problems with its mail service (again!). I was hoping it'd've been cleared up by now, but it's not, and I've no idea how much longer their service will be out :( Anything that was sent offlist to me at bfbell@dorsai.org from about 7PM Eastern Time yesterday is probably still floating around in the ether somewhere. If it's time-sensitive, please resend to webwarren@earthlink.net. Also, please direct any personal correspondence for the indefinite future to webwarren@earthlink.net. Thank you. Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Tue Aug 24 19:38:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JQ81-0000wq-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 19:37:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9054; Tue, 24 Aug 99 19:35:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4189; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 19:35:04 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 16:36:42 -0700 Reply-To: Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tserisa Organization: Dragon of Velvety Blackness Subject: War: Cuz: Screams of Bidderness To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a2e1d9257a95badcd424b74e1250c923 Title: Screams of Bidderness Where: CERK Time: After "Donuts and Bagels and Flyers, Oh My!" * * * * Cousin Tserisa was about to reach for the door to CERK, when she saw a flyer laying on the street. She picked it up and, as she read, walked into the Cousinly Lobby. And let loose a huge scream. She then began to swear vehemently... something she was rarely heard to do. Cousinly Receptionist Isabella stared at her and cringed for a moment, fearing the worst. "Um, is something wrong, sir? Er, ma'am?" Cousin Tserisa stared at her with a crazed look in her eyes, then momentarily seemed to come back to her senses. "Um... just found out the tapestry was stolen," she muttered, then muttered a few things that were incomprehensible. "Mutter mutter, very important, mutter mutter to the Shrine." She stomped off to the elevator to go to her room, leaving a frightened, confused Cousin Isabella at the front desk. * * * * * "Stolen," Tserisa grumbled. "Of course it was stolen... why else would I try to be getting it back?" She was talking to her Cousinly Critters. Willoughby the Lobster, Mascot of the Lobster Liberation Front, sloshed in his 60 gallon tank. Jabber squawked. Moody Blue perched on her shoulder and snuffled in her ear. Cousin Gwen was pacing back and forth, wondering who could have ordered such a thing. Just when Tser's bid was becoming unbeatable. "That tapestry is the lifeblood of the Shrine!! I was willing to bid my HOUSE to get it back!! I bid almost everything I own! I was going to be homeless in order to hang Nunkies' likeness in His proper place in the Shrine." Tserisa began again to get a crazed look in her eyes. "Jail??? Jail is nothing!!" she cackled. "At least I'd have a place to live after I payed for the tapestry. That is, if they catch me... I supplied my PO Box since I move around a lot... hehe... anonymous email address... hehehe... even if I do get caught, what's the worry? Jail's not that bad... hehe... not bad at all...." Gwennie purred to back her up, knowing the worth of such a work of art, but the other animals looked worried. "Quack?" Glitch asked. Sprocket nodded. "Total quack." Now she loaded up the Veebay site, praying that it hadn't been taken down because of all these threats. ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tserisa@bigfoot.com * FK: http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ _______________________________________________________________ Get your free e-mail / e-card account that helps save wildlife! http://www.care-mail.com From - Tue Aug 24 21:32:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JRpA-000574-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 21:26:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9587; Tue, 24 Aug 99 21:23:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3054; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 21:23:42 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 21:19:52 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: CUZ: "Lobsters and Chowder and Crabs, Oh MY!" (1/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1a644d7379a933c6e235a8312e6fca99 "LOBSTERS AND CHOWDER AND CRABS, OH *MY*!" (1/?) By Cousine Celeste Date: Saturday evening, August 21st A few hours after "I'll Get You My Pretty... And Your Little *Lobster*, Too!" Where: at The Barking Crab of Toronto McCousin McLisa McDavid appears because she goes where she wants to go. Everyone else appears because they were hungry and wanted a free meal. The Barking Crab of Toronto was an exact duplicate of The Barking Crab in south Boston -- an open-air restaurant under a tent by the water, two dozen picnic tables with red-checked plastic tablecloths, plastic cutlery and paper napkins stuffed into white plastic buckets on each table, concrete underfoot (for easy cleaning, with a garden hose,) and the best damned seafood in town. Okay, it wasn't exactly a class act, but if you think about it, a boiled lobster with molten butter is the same whether you pay $16.95 or $59.95 for the extra ambience of having a china plate under it... right? Cousin Lisa did not share this view. Neither did LaCroix, Cousin Lisa suspected, watching his lip curl as if he'd just caught wind of the fish-guts-filled dumpster out back. Upon entering the place via a gate through a chain link fence, Lisa had looked around in horror, then grabbed the Cousine by the sleeve, dragging her off to one side. "Okay, where does the part where this gets us in good with the General come in?" she hissed. "When he wraps his too-human taste buds around a spoonful of la specialite de la maison: Crab-Clam-Lobsta Chowda A La Barking Crab of Boston, Lisa! It's to die for!" "I... hate... you," was all Cousin Lisa could ground out through clenched teeth. Cousine Celeste wasn't sure, but she thought she might have heard Lisa follow that up with a muttered, "*We're* goin' to die...." There were enough of them in the Cousinly party that they were able to take over an entire picnic table for themselves. Cousine Celeste threw a leg over the bench and sat down, Cousin Lisa and Cousinly Leader Tser followed suit next to her, and Tok did likewise on the other side. The man of the hour, Lucien LaCroix, delicately and with great dignity sank down onto the bench next to Tok. LaCroix's GSS body guard, Cousin sHolmes, hovered over him protectively until the Cousinly Leaders noticed it was beginning to annoy LaCroix, so they insisted she sit and enjoy the meal with them. The blonde GSS agent perched at the end, thus protectively sandwiching LaCroix between herself and Tok, her eyes never stopping as they roved over the restaurant's customers and crew. "Really, Celeste" LaCroix said, adjusting his diamond-studded silk cuffs, "I had no idea that when you said 'wear short sleeves', it was not merely an example of your, for lack of a better word, 'sense of humour.'" "That's okay, you can roll up your sleeves!" enthused Celeste. "I'm going to teach you how to knock down a lobster into parts faster than a stolen car ring can knock down an ugly, green, '63 Caddy. But first...!" She waved down a passing waiter. "Ugly?!" Tser said angrily. "And it's not green, it's San Remo Turquoise Poly, and it's a '62, not a '63...." She trailed off when she realized everyone was *looking* at her. "Nevermind." Their waiter was clad in jeans and a plaid shirt, as such, he was dressed a lot more casually than anyone at the table. "Can I get you folks a drink?" "Water all around, plus your famous Barking Crab Vat 'O Sangria, and keep it coming," said Celeste, "oh, and a pupu platter until we decide what we want." "San... *gria*?" Lisa muttered from where she was sitting, gently bonking her head on the picnic table. LaCroix was trying to decide which was stranger, the Cousin currently banging her head on the table or the prospect of eating something called a "pupu platter" but was distracted from his musings when the Cousine grabbed a handful of menus and started chucking them 'round the table. "Here ya go. I'm warning you, though, you're all getting at least a cup of the Crab-Clam-Lobsta Chowda." The GSS agent intercepted the menu flying towards LaCroix's face before it had the chance to make contact, shot Celeste a warning look, and calmly handed the menu to LaCroix. Celeste just looked at her unsmiling visage and said, "Oopsie," with a little shrug. There were cheerfully beaming little orange crabs on the front of every menu, waving their claws gleefully. LaCroix visibly shuddered. Celeste noticed the shudder, but misinterpreted its cause. She reached across the table and took the menu from the ex-vampire's grasp, saying, "That's okay, don't be nervous. I'll order for you." LaCroix was too stunned to respond. Cousin Tok looked over the menu in a kind of haze 'o horror. It wasn't that the menu was so ghastly, she'd actually been experiencing that zombiefied divorcement from her upper faculties since she'd stepped from the CERK limo and put foot down on the black-topped path that lead to the restaurant. She *never* in a million years would have allowed the Cousine to take LaCroix -- *LACROIX* for Pete's sake -- out to dinner at all if it weren't for the fact that she owed Celeste a big favor for bailing her and a troop of cousins out of jail several days ago, but she certainly hadn't expect anything like this. Tok told herself it was just as well she was there to witness this debacle, so as to protect the ex-vampire master as best she could from whatever terrors and inconveniences the Cousine-designed evening promised. Cousin Tser also looked over the menu in horror. As a vegetarian, she wasn't too keen on eating critters, even critters of the sea with brains the size of the head of a pin, but this was beyond cruelty! When she had picked up the menu, the first thing that had caught her eye was the paragraph entitled *PICK YOUR OWN LOBSTER*. She leaned back in her seat and looked all around the restaurant until she found it: a large tank of green, bubbling water filled with some two or three dozen live lobsters, a placard over it declaring that this was "The Lobster Pool" in big orange letters, just in case anyone wasn't sure that was what it was. Cousin Lisa's thoughts as she viewed her menu went more along the lines of making sure she got herself a good Last Meal. "I want Alaskan King Crab legs. I don't care how much it costs. I want Alaskan King Crab legs." "And so you shall have crab legs," the Cousine said mock-imperiously. At that moment, the waiter came back, lugging a huge pitcher of Sangria and a clutch of wineglasses, which he distributed around the table. Celeste poured, spilling not a drop, which was remarkable considering how evilly bouncy she was tonight. "Taste this, Mon General," she said to LaCroix. The ex-vampire shot her a dirty look, the expression "I don't drink... *wine*" popping into his head; but he tasted it, if only to forestall the whining the Cousine would undoubtedly indulge in should he demure.... And as the sweet, cool liquid filled his mouth, a look of wonderment fell across his dour features. It tasted... incredible. Like... tasting springtime. Like inhaling the scent of new flowers and rich, ripe grapes. Like a touch of dew on the oranges in the garden on a Pompeiian morning, well, at least on those mornings when the volcano wasn't burping sulfur. "Pretty good, huh, General?" encouraged Celeste. "And it's only $12.95 a 'vat'!" She swigged down a healthy gulp, then dove into the pupu platter of various savouries that had only just been placed on the table. LaCroix would have leaned back and closed his eyes if his chair had *had* a back, as it was he just closed his eyes. In no time at all, his glass was empty, and the Cousine was filling it up again. THAT WAS THE APPETIZER: TO BE CONTINUED WITH THE SOUP.... ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Tue Aug 24 21:32:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JRqY-0005B6-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 21:27:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3147; Tue, 24 Aug 99 21:25:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3173; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 21:25:02 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 21:27:33 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: A Nice ... (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2387f71ba941088640a0a6c6826be3aa Title: Cousins LCL: A Nice ... (1/1) Date: Wednesday, August 25th Time: Around 2pm By: Arletta Asbury With many thanks to two friends for their technical assistance which added greatly to this storyline, Joe G. and Mike N. Joe invented the architectural term 'Asymmetric Kanting' and Mike provided information about the floor plan of a typical monastery. Disclaimer: Mrs. Smythe is a fictional character. The task of interviewing yet *another* prospective tour guide had fallen on Arletta. She sighed. Who would have believed that it would be this hard to hire someone to do such a simple job. Today's applicant was a Mrs. Smythe who should not be confused with the Mrs. Smith that Brandi had 'encountered' last Wednesday. Mrs. Smythe arrived on time. 'So far so good,' Arletta thought. "Hello," Mrs. Smythe said. "Hi, I'm Arletta." "This is a nice building you have here," Mrs. Smythe said, glancing around. "Yes it is. And very historic too. The first instance of Asymmetric Kanting in all of North America," Arletta said reciting some of the 'tour spiel' that was becoming all too familiar to her. "Mind if I look around?" Mrs. Smythe said. "No, not at all!" Arletta replied as she was thinking, 'This one is promising. She actually wants to *see* what we show on the tours.' "Charming. Absolutely charming," Mrs Smythe exclaimed at the sight of one of the matching parlors. "A fireplace at that end would just make the room so ... oh ... is cozy the right word?" Arletta surveyed the scene and had to agree, "Yes." A fireplace *would* add a certain something to the room. Too bad the Light Cousins couldn't afford something like that. "The hallway should be painted a lighter color. Cream perhaps or off-white." Mrs. Smythe announced. Arletta blinked at the suggestion. In the kitchen, Mrs. Smythe exclaimed over the antiquated appliances but said, "We MUST redo this room." She whipped out a tape measure and made a few quick measurements before saying, "Hmm, a wall-oven over there, I think. A new corner sink just here. And of course a new refrigerator to match." Stunned, Arletta mumbled something unintelligible in reply. In the dining hall, Mrs. Smythe stopped in absolute awe. "This room is so magnificent it just SCREAMS for a marble staircase." "This is a ... a ONE-story building." Arletta stammered. "What a great idea! We'll add a second floor." From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JSW1-0001o9-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:10:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3403; Tue, 24 Aug 99 22:07:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7123; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:07:56 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:09:41 -0400 Reply-To: Emma Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Emma Subject: War: Vaq: Who Says You Can't Go Home Again? (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ccdf3a18a12243664d9b321ed63c3c16 Title:Vaq:Who Says You Can't Go Home Again? (01/01) By Emma Lighton Time: August 22, after Vaq: The V-team Place: Outside the church The Vaqs rolled to a halt outside the church. They were still high on adrenalin from their attack on the DPs, but a sense of uneasiness had started to creep in. From the outside the building looked normal, down to the jello moat and the hole in the roof, the latter causing Tracy Sue to mutter under her breath, but there was no telling what awaited them inside. As one they approached the front door and flung it open. It took a moment to register that everything looked normal. Well, almost normal. "Did anyone order a cow?" Teresita asked. They all stared at it. The cow blinked at them from under it's wig, it's neon sign glowing in the church's dim interior. "I get dibs on the wig!" Felicia cried as she rushed forward. She tried to pick it up and frowned when it remained stuck to the cow's head. "Rats, it's glued on. Where's the nail polish remover?" As the Felicia deftly unglued the wig, the Vaqs crowded round to examine the bovine. "What should we name it?" Was asked several times. "How about 'Natalie'?" Tabitha suggested, after reading the "Come on Nick--give in to your true nature" sign. * * * * * As the naming debate raged on around him, Vachon noticed that they were short a Vaq. *Not again!* He thought, as he scanned the church. To his relief, he found the stray huddled at one end of a pew. Slipping away, before anyone thought of asking him his opinion, Vachon wandered over to talk to Emma. * * * * * A while later, the name question still unsettled, the group dispersed to the four corners of the church to see if there were any other presents. One group found evidence of beds having been placed in some old unused storage rooms. Another group found several cans of paint, all of them labeled 'defective.' Prying off the lids revealed a pleasant shade of apricot. The last group went to explore the Evil Pink bathroom. Felicia, now proudly wearing a brown wig, was the first to peer in, her DP status giving her greater resistance. Inside, she found the walls a strange color. They appeared to be Evil Pink warring with peach. Other than that, the room appeared normal. "We need to do something about the bathroom." Felicia announced. "Do we have any paint left?" "Just the cans of apricot." Cliff told her. "We can't order any more Evil Pink. The supplier was arrested, I think something about cruel and unusual wall colors." Teresita told them. "Well, at least we'll be able to use it when we're done." Melissa pointed out. On that note, the group left the bathroom, and went to round up paint brushes and the rest of the Vaqs. * * * * * The Vaqs stood back to admire their handy work. The walls, and a few of the Vaqs, were now a lovely apricot. The mirrors had calla lilies etched around their edges, which matched the design on the shower curtain. On the back of the toilet now stood a vase of fake calla lilies, guaranteed not to pick up unpleasant odors. "Now of course we'll need somewhere else to keep prisoners." Tracy Sue commented to no one in particular. Several pairs of eyes lit up at the thought, and soon a small group was making plans for a dungeon. The End --- Emma (egl@operamail.com) Vaquera * T+VPack * DP heretic * War 9 Vet. "You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought." -- Star Wars http://members.tripod.com/lostshadows/main.html From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JSYm-0006v8-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:13:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3421; Tue, 24 Aug 99 22:10:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7609; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:10:51 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:13:17 -0400 Reply-To: Soulseeker Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Soulseeker Subject: War: N&NPack: Invasion of the Clothes Snatchers (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 213177828baaacd79d3256ac9bcc9ad2 War: Invasion of the Clothes Snatchers (1/2) by Soulseeker and the N&NPack Sunday, Aug 22/99 Afternoon N&NPack HQ Soulseeker and Susan sat in the office sipping on Time Horton's Iced Cappucinnos. It had been a relatively hectic day so far and they were both in need of a few minutes of relaxation. "I swear these are addictive," sighed Soul as she took a large sip. "We really shouldn't be drinking them," Susan mumbled as she took another sip. "They are rather hard to put down." "Tell me about it." Susan grinned as Soulseeker replied in between slurpping sounds. Susan knew that she was milking the cup for every last drop. A few months before during a shopping expedition, Soul had introduced her the now famous Iced Cappucinno and since then she had been hooked. Before she could contemplate the world of blissful drinks any further Angela burst into the room. "Hi ya Soul, Susan!" as if realizing what she had done she grinned sheepishly, "Ah, Monique sent me up here to ask you what I should do with this." Angela hefted a large box onto the desk. Soulseeker and Susan took a quick glance inside. Susan's face lit up, "Who did you say was coming to the party tonight, Soul?" "The Ratpack, Cousins, Dark Perks, NatPack, Knighties, FoDs and Ravenettes, at least those are the ones I know of. Why?" "Ravenettes?" Susan looked contemplative, while Soul and Angela looked confused. "The Ravenettes have a thing for clothes and are always considered tasteful, eh?" Soulseeker suddenly grinned as Susan meaning came in loud and clear. "Perfect, just perfect. Do you have anyone in mind?" "Yep, Kevin, he is always great at this type of stuff." "Angela could you ask Kevin, and umm...Nir, Amanda, Monique and Shannon to come up here," Soulseeker requested as she mentally ran through the various N&NPackers and their special talents. Five minutes later an out of breath Angela returned with everyone in tow. After signaling everyone to take a seat, she reached into a box and pulled out one of it's contents and passed it around. Shannon looked at her in askance. "Do you know what this means?" Soulseeker asked as she watched the confused glances the new arrivals were shooting each other. "We're converting to a new age cult?" drawled Kevin. "An X-Files Conversation in Toronto?" Nir suggested. Angela sighed, "We're being invaded?" Monique shook her head, "Carrie was in charge of ordering supplies." Everyone chuckled. Finally, Susan broke in, "Actually it has to do with the Ravenettes. Here's the plan..." SOULSEEKER soulseeker@sprint.ca * soulseeker1@acmecity.com N&NPack Faction Leader-*-Lonely Hearts Co Faction Leader From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JSZ3-0004TB-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:13:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9842; Tue, 24 Aug 99 22:11:10 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7673; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:11:10 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:13:39 -0400 Reply-To: Soulseeker Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Soulseeker Subject: War: N&NPack: Invasion of the Clothes Snatchers (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 41fd434dc310e5ef27de22dfca4ff81f War: Invasion of the Clothes Snatchers (2/2) by Soulseeker and the N&NPack Sunday, Aug 22/99 Evening during the Pictionary Party Coinsides with the War: N&NPack: Pictionary Party (2/3) N&NPack HQ and the Raven Everyone used with their permission. The Pictionary Party was well under way when Shannon slipped away from her duty as watcher. The roof was equipped with cameras that monitored the surrounding areas and served as an early warning system. It had been Shannon's job to monitor the TV screens for arriving party guests, the Ravenettes in particular, and to keep an eye out for anything unusual. The Ravenettes had finally arrived and she had to alert Monique who waiting in the lobby for the signal. On receiving the signal from Shannon, Monique moved into position to covertly watch the new arrivals, the Ravenettes. After trailing the three Ravenettes and one Raven, and watching them play pictionary, she was finally rewarded with the disappearance of their leader. As Mary was leading the two Ravenettes away, she winked at Monique, signalling the all-clear. Knowing that her time was limited, Monique quickly approached the remaining Ravenette and Raven. "Hi! I'm Monique. I just came over to find out how everything is going. Is there anything you need?" "Oh, hi, I'm Lorna and this is Alexander." She smiled at her friend. "I think we have everything we need, but thanks anyway." "No problem. We always love having Ravenettes at our parties, adds a certain style. I hope you will enjoy yourselves." "Thanks," Alex mumbled, not quite sure what to make of the enthusiastic N&NPacker. "Do you plan to stay very long?" Monique asked casually. Alexander suddenly looked suspicious. "Why do you ask?" Waving off any interest, she replied, "Oh, nothing really, just thought that you'd like to stay till at least midnight, 'cause Nick's planning on arriving late." Looking relieved, Lorna smiled," Oh, we'd love to see him." Monique smiled at them and bid them a good time. She gave a little wave to Laila, signaling her to keep them distracted. Once Monique was out of sight, she rushed towards the office. Angela and Nir were waiting for her and quickly grabbed their supplies and headed for the main floor. By the time they reached the rear doors, Kevin, Amanda and Soulseeker were waiting for them. "Good luck and be careful," Soulseeker said as she turned and headed back to the party. Kevin ran through a quick checklist and then led the group to the van. ----------------------------------- Ten minutes later Kevin pulled the van into the parking lot next to the Raven. Using the access card that Susan had supplied them with, they let themselves into the building right over the Raven. After looking at the very old, cramped elevator they opted to take the stairs up to the second floor. On reaching the second floor, they looked for the freight elevator that Susan had told them about. "Okay, it's stealth mode now," Kevin whispered. "This should take us into a part of the Raven that should be unoccupied at the moment. Lucky for us Janette is mortal and won't be able to sense our presence. Remember, if you encounter anyone, say that you are from one of the offices on the 2nd floor and came down to report a break-in that happened earlier today." Kevin took his role as team leader very seriously and couldn't allow for any complications. ---------------------------------- Half an hour later the last of the bags was loaded into the elevator. Their mission was finished and they hadn't run into a single complication. "That was easier than I thought," commented a grinning Nir. "Yeah, it went very smoothly, but we aren't finished yet. We still have to get out of the building without running into anyone who'll recognize us," Kevin replied. They deposited all the bags in the common coffee room on the 2nd floor for safekeeping and cautiously made their way back to the van. Once they were out of sight, Monique started laughing, "I'd love to see the look on their faces when they discover all their clothes are gone and find our little presents instead." "Yeah, can you see them holding up the glow-in-the-dark, green and pink alien emblazoned matching short and vest sets, wondering what the heck they can do to avoid wearing them?" Angela grinned. "Oh, even better are the N&NPack faction t-shirts that go with green and pink alien shorts and vests. I can imagine the disdainful looks Janette will shoot them when they appear in them," Amanda giggled as she pictured the scene. SOULSEEKER soulseeker@sprint.ca * soulseeker1@acmecity.com N&NPack Faction Leader-*-Lonely Hearts Co Faction Leader From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JT35-0005f5-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:44:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0051; Tue, 24 Aug 99 22:41:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1021; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:41:07 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 19:16:19 PDT Reply-To: Cousin Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Shelley Subject: WAR:UF: A Honey of a Rescue, 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 095df33e7012ad371a52592eb6a611dc TITLE: A Honey of a Rescue BY: Cousin Shelley ***Main idea by Lora C., wasp-wrangler extraordinaire ***Ideas and THWAPS graciously provided by Illinois Jules (Thanks guys!) LOCATION: Streets of Toronto, The Hive TIME: Immediately following 'The Hive's Hives Arrive' "Come on, let's go find her." Several pairs of eyes looked up at the pale figure in the doorway. "Hey Lora, I thought you were going to watch the hives for a while," Jules said. "I was, but I think we'd better go get Shell. She's been gone longer than I'd expected." Lora joined the other UFfers and regarded the cardboard box they were gathered around. "We haven't opened it yet," Laurey said. "We'd decided that someone should find her first." She shrugged. "We couldn't enjoy whatever it may be if we know she's out there running around like a big boob. Got a plan, Stan?" After a short discussion. Jules and Lora decided to hop on the former's motorcycle to find their freaked-out friend. Lora hurried off to get her 'secret weapon'. When she returned, all the UFfers nodded their approval at her choice. "Better put it inside your shirt so you can hang on without worrying about dropping it," Jules said. The moment was solemn as Lora tucked the black-bound volume inside her clothing. As they were saddling up, Jules paused, rubbed her hands on her black jeans then ran quick fingers through her short, curly hair and turned to Lora with an uncertain look on her face. "Now listen, Lora. There's one thing you've got to keep in mind, okay?" Her friend nodded, a curious look on her face. "You've got to keep your mouth shut at all times." Lora bristled and started to question Jules' seemingly rude comment. Jules laughed at the peeved looked on her friend's face and held up her hands. "No, no, I don't mean it like that! You ever see the James Bond movie where 007 is strapped in that thing that spins, and he's going so fast that the skin's all pushed against his face and looks like it's going to rip loose?" Lora swallowed hard and nodded. "Well, if you open your mouth at just the right angle, the air rushing past will catch your cheeks like a sail, kind of like in that movie," Jules motioned wildly in the air, "and it'll WhipYouRightOffThisSucker!" Jules smiled and situated herself on her cycle. Lora's naturally pale faded to a never before achieved shade of white as Jules revved the engine. How many passengers had made like so many human parachutes, prompting Jules to now warn her? As the pair headed off, Lora bit her lips between her teeth and squinted, intensely hoping that she would still have eyelids and appendages once all was said and done. They hadn't gone far when Lora threw her arm over Jules shoulder and pointed. "Mmmhmm mmmm! Mmmhm Mmmmm!" "Mmmm mhmmm mmmmnn." Jules nodded and changed direction, her bike going faster than the already if-a-bug-hits-you-at-this-speed-you'll-have-an-extra- orifice pace they'd kept thus far. They had little trouble catching Shelley. The extremely out-of-shape woman appeared to be topping out, wind at her back, at a breakneck two-and-a-half miles per hour. But what she lacked in speed she made up for in technique: The tired UFfer lurched along a few steps, stopped, and frantically windmilled her arms while spinning and letting loose a high-pitched hoarse-throated yowl that caused all the dogs within a full square mile of her to tuck tail and whine. The wasp enjoyed the game, flying in a huge figure eight around her, the taunted woman's head being the junction of the two loops. Each loop extended ahead and behind her approximately 20 feet--just long enough for her to breathe and take a step or two before the wasp returned in a dive. Noticing the vicious wasp's wicked nasty evil little horrid insect rhythm, Lora and Jules snapped into action. There was no need for words as they seemed to communicate an unspoken plan between them. As they neared the UFfer, Jules screeched to a stop and both women hopped off. Jules grabbed Shelley who immediately began the screaming portion of her hysteria. As she attempted to spin and windmill along with the the wailing, Jules shook the disoriented woman, trying to calm her down. Simultaneously, Lora pulled out her secret weapon and spread her feet, bracing herself, directly in the looped path of the enemy. She extended her arms, holding out the black book a second before the wasp reached her. "Snap out of it, Shell. Hey, hey!" Jules knew there was only one thing to do. Shelley stopped. So did the wasp. "Okay, OKAY, Jules! Stop hitting me!" Jules was tempted to thwap her again just for good measure, but instead she walked to where the wasp had fallen after flying full-speed into Lora's makeshift barrier. Quickly, and without ceremony, Jules stomped the fallen bug. Lora inspected the treasure in her hands and wiped the cover carefully. Triumphantly she said, "Death by UF Pillow Book!" Jules pumped her fist in the air and laughed. "Yeah! What a way to go!" Shelley, hunched over and out of breath, only stared wide-eyed at her companions and managed to spit out some words between gulps of air. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, I . . . I . . . well it's about freakin' time somebody came after me, I oh well it's over now thankyouthankyouthankyou--" "It was only a wasp, Shelley. A wasp!" Jules expression was one of disbelief. "I mean, a WASP!" Shelley flinched and took a step back but the anticipated thwap never came. Lora settled for a Taxi ride home to ensure the Pillow Book's safe return while Jules and the rescued UFfer mounted up and headed back to the Hive. END 1/1 --------- Cousin Shelley netbus1@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTCZ-00062E-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:54:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3671; Tue, 24 Aug 99 22:49:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1520; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:49:42 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 19:44:53 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--Caveat Emptor, Indeed To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7e45babdab99329949211ffe6643d48e 24 Aug 1999 The Church Toronto, ON Noon-ish Caveat Emptor, Indeed By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia Felicia and Teresita, the Vaquera Wonder Twins, were slacking. The war had kept them busy thus far, and with nearly a week to go, they were taking a well-deserved break. They sat side-by-side staring at the computer screen, surfing their merry way looking for nothing in particular. "Hey, Twinks," Teresita used her pet name for her Vaq Twin, "let's check out that auction page. Maybe there's something interesting listed." "Sure Twinner," Felicia returned. She typed the address in the browser and clicked. The site loaded quickly, and on the first page was a full colored banner reading: Let the Buyer Beware. "Wait, wha?" The Vaq Wonder Twin #2 squinted at the screen. "Stolen object? And someone has put it up for sale?" "Oh, how awful for the owner. Hold on a second, it's a tapestry of LaCroix?" "Well, that means that it must belong to one of the Cousin groups or the NAs." "Look, Twinks, it's 'LaCroix in Repose'." The Vaqs looked at each other. "Addicts," they said in unison. "Wow. Bet they're ticked," Teresita mused. "Well, I don't really blame them, Twinner," Felicia answered. "It would be like if someone stole Jav's Triumph and tried to sell it." "Who's trying to steal my Triumph?" Vachon had appeared behind them and had managed to catch just the last of the conversation. "No one that we know of, Javier," Teresita was quick to say. The Spaniard had few possessions that he valued, but the bike was very high on the list. "Come see, you'll understand what we're talking about," Felicia said. He moved over and regarded the screen. "Oh, now that's a shame. 'LaCroix in Repose', huh? Lemme guess, Addicts, right? "Yup," the two said together. From his position between them, Vachon laughed. "Stereo," he said. "Well, what can we do about this?" "Let's at least warn the rest of the Vaqs. We do have some who have Toga-ish leanings, you know." Vachon made a face. "Yeah, good point. Okay, I'll make sure they know not to bid on this. I hope the owners can get it back." The twins were still staring at the screen. "Me too," they said. He walked away chuckling. Those Vaq Wonder Twin Mind Melts were beyond his comprehension. He only hoped that they weren't contagious. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2, Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!) Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTGB-0000oQ-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:58:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3694; Tue, 24 Aug 99 22:54:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1810; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:54:12 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:52:16 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: CUZ: "Lobsters and Chowder and Crabs, Oh MY!" (2/?) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c25fd2f5b04c0f489c824e36ce265923 "LOBSTERS AND CHOWDER AND CRABS, OH *MY*!" (2/?) By Cousine Celeste, with input by Cousin Lisa Date: Saturday evening, August 21st A few hours after "I'll Get You My Pretty... And Your Little *Lobster*, Too!" Where: at The Barking Crab of Toronto McCousin McLisa McDavid appears because she goes where she wants to go. Everyone else appears because they were hungry and wanted a free meal. Their waiter returned, ready to take their order. Celeste ordered bowls of the Crab-Clam-Lobsta Chowda A La Barking Crab and lobster dinners all around, as well as a double-order of crab legs for Lisa and sHolmes. Tser, white-faced, ordered a salad, "NO shrimp, NO mussels, NO little dead things at all on it, please." "And *now*," announced the Cousine, making a 'tah-dah!' gesture with her hand in the direction of The Lobster Pool. "We.... *Pick A Lobster*!" Tser's face set into a steely-eyed frown. "Pick A Lobster?!" the Cousinly Leader snapped. "Let's tell it like it is! It's more like 'Pick A Victim'!" "Yup! 'Pick A Victim' sounds about right!" the Cousine agreed. "I figured you'd really enjoy that part," she confided to LaCroix, who was draining his second glass of Sangria. The group got up to follow their waiter to the lobster pool to pick out those who would be sacrificed on the altar of the humans' hunger that night. Passing by a nearby table, Celeste noticed that Cousin McLisa, who had most carefully * not* been invited to join the group for dinner that night, was there, enjoying a pair of the "So Spicy, They'll Make You Bark!" crab cakes. Celeste was able to guess that the five unlucky people who shared the table with her were average, ordinary Torontan citizens by the looks of fear on their face as they watched the McCousin play with her food. They were all leaned back in their seats as far from her as they could get. Apparently McLisa was on one of her "I'm a cat" jags, because she was muttering, "I'll get you! I'll get you, little fishie!" as she pushed a crab cake a little away from her, then pounced on it again and again. "Can't get away from me! Got you, little fishie!" McLisa took a big bite, then turned to the Cousine and stated with her mouth full, "My cat always says, 'If you want to have fun at a party, always go directly to the person who hates cats the most and sit on their lap." Celeste hurried on her way to join the rest of her group at the lobster pool. At the tank, kitchen help stood at the ready, rubber-tipped tongs in hand, waiting for the customers to point out who, I mean, *what* they wanted to devour that evening -- after proper boiling. LaCroix smiled: it was a smile fueled by two full glasses of Sangria, but it was a cruel smile for all that. His predator's eyes raked over the doomed crustaceans as if he were an old hand at this... and perhaps he was, metaphysically speaking. "*That* one over there...," their guest of honor said, pointing to a gimlet-eyed lobster with very large claws that was trying to rip out the arm of one of its fellow prisoners, "...he has spirit! I choose *him*!" The kitchen helper dove for the lobster LaCroix had pointed out, grabbing it expertly with his tongs by the thorax and pulling it out of the cold green water. The lobster went mad, wriggling and emitting high-pitched shrieks of outrage as it was carried off through the swinging doors that lead to the kitchen. "Good choice, sir," said their denim-clad waiter. He turned to Tser. "And your choice, madame?" The Cousinly Leader let out a meep of dismay. "I... I choose *that* one!" she said after a moment, pointing with a shaking finger at a small, defenseless lobster that was squooshed up in the far corner of the tank, one that had obviously only barely made the limit. The kitchen helper expertly grabbed the lobster and pulled it out, but in that same moment, Tser swung around to a table on her left and grabbed up one of the big white buckets that held plastic cutlery and paper napkins, dumping the contents out onto the concrete floor. She leaned over and *scooped* out a bucket-full of the cold water in the tank, swinging it around to intersect with the parabola the ascending lobster was describing in the air. Cousine Celeste was never quite sure how it happened, but mere milliseconds later, Cousin Tser was running out of the restaurant, the small lobster she'd chosen safely tucked into the sloshing bucket, screaming, "DEATH TO ALL OPPRESSORS!" at the top of her lungs. (Apparently she'd been hanging out with Cousin Shelley.) The kitchen helper just stood there, staring at his empty rubber-tipped tongs and wondering how she'd *done* that. Their waiter looked stunned for a moment, then annoyed. "Jeez! That's the second one today!" he said. "Omigoodness," said Lisa, staring after the departed Cousinly Leader. "Hey, she's taking the limo!" "Um, sorry about that," apologized the Cousine. "I swear I had no idea she was gonna do that." "Hey, that's okay," said the waiter. "Frankly, we don't care *what* you do with the damned things, as long as you pay for them." Celeste shrugged. "Fair enough. Okay, I choose *that* one." Her voice dropped to a Klingon register. "Make his death quick and painless, he was an honorable adversary." The kitchen helper retrieved the lobster in question. Their waiter walked away muttering, "What's wrong with these people?" under his breath. Once the remaining cousins had chosen a victim, they all trooped back to their table. Celeste noticed that McLisa seemed to be sitting alone this time around and wondered where her ex-table mates had gone. She supposed they'd just finished up their dinners and left, but she didn't remember if they'd had any food in front of them the last time she'd passed by. McLisa could be overheard saying to herself, "My cat always says, 'There's no better way to clear away the kitties trying to muscle in on your dinner than by marking your territory. A little spritz here and a little spritz there, here a spritz, there a spritz, everywhere a spritz-spritz.'" Tok stopped dead in her tracks. "Someone *please* tell me she's speaking metaphorically rather than literally." "I'm *almost* sure she is," said Celeste, who made a wide circle around McLisa's table, in case she wasn't. Back at the table, the styrofoam bowls of the specialty of the house, Crab-Clam-Lobsta Chowda A La Barking Crab, had been set out, steaming invitingly. Except for Lisa, everyone, even LaCroix, dove in. "Ooooh," he moaned at the first plastic spoonful. "This is possibly the most incredibly delicious thing I have ever tasted, it even surpasses the ambrosial qualities of 'Sangria'...." At the mention of that citrus-flavored delight, the waiter re-filled up his cup. "...what exactly is it that gives it this amazing flavour?" "Um, glurp," said Celeste, surfacing, "Fat and salt and cream, which is another word for 'fat.' That's about it." "Yeah, that'll do it," said Lisa, who poked at the gently steaming glop in her bowl as if something was going to leap out and attack her. "You know, LaCroix, now that you're human, you're going to have to learn about the benefits of a healthy, balanced diet...." She began to explain The Four Food Groups to LaCroix who looked at her, puzzled, for a moment before deciding to ignore her and keep eating. They ate in silence, ignoring Lisa, until their bowls were all but licked clean... then several of the lower-class among them (who shall remain nameless) licked their bowls clean by virtue of running a finger around the bottom, then licking the finger. LaCroix looked as if he were considering turning the bowl inside-out to get at the last drops. Celeste filled the General's glass with Sangria again. Hey, that chowda could really make a fellow thirsty, ya know! THAT WAS THE SOUP: TO BE CONTINUED WITH THE ENTREE.... ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTMI-0006SI-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:04:19 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0279; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:01:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3484; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:01:44 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 20:01:41 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: Admin: War End Extension X-To: fkwar10leaders@eGroups.com, fkwar10leaders@onelist.com To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2fea1d0c63de1c4d16c1cdfd9253501f Hello, A request has been submitted and granted to extend the war ending through the weekend. The deadline for war posting will now be Sunday at Midnight CST. The original war ending post for the storyline will drop Friday morning to complete the war story line. The timeframe of the post will be Midnight Thursday Night as was originally proposed. This means that come Friday in Toronto, all characters will have been converted back to vampires, those who were converted at the start of the war. Posts can be done through the weekend for those who wish to have posts with the converted characters. The war will officially end Sunday Night at Midnight CST (Central Standard Time) The Celtic Glow Worms will be having a very special celebration on Saturday (they will be sending details) for a Celtic Wedding. All posts done through the weekend will be considered part of the official collection of war posts. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTRe-0006ce-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:09:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0382; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:07:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5260; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:07:05 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 06:10:36 +0300 Reply-To: dce@dlc.fi Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: dce Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Fun And Games (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7e2a331fd63140c78eaef39b22a9fb58 WAR: Ravenettes: Fun And Games (2/2) by Claudia Time: 23/08/99 - 24/08/99 Place: The Shrine Everyone used with permission. Bodaway, Dominic and Tomosada are my creations. Lars, the Norseman, belongs to Alex. Many thanks for letting me borrow him :) "Someone better watch out for me in there", Claudia warned her fellow Raven/ettes as they were about to enter the Shrine. "What, you're afraid you'll get lost or something?" Alex asked, taking a look around the place. "No." Claudia shook her head a little before she continued a bit hesitantly. "I don't remember if I've ever told this to you guys before but I -- I'm an addict." "You are?" Teresa breathed surprised, just before she shrieked enthusiastically, "So am I!" Time gave them an odd look just as Kimberly's head whipped around to stare at the two. "Addicts? You?" At Claudia's tiny nod she exclaimed: "But -- you're Ravenettes!" "Well yeah, but that doesn't mean that we can't appreciate Nunkies. I mean, you gotta admit that he *is* a sight for sore eyes..." Teresa explained. At this point Claudia's eyes sort of glazed over as she imagined LaCroix in nothing but a toga. Kimberly quickly nudged her to the ribs to get her back to the present. "Okay, I see your point. But, you two better be careful in here, you wouldn't want to forget where your loyalties lie during this war. Right?" "Right." Claudia and Teresa assured her in tandem. Giving the addicts one last, stern look Kimberly said: "All right then, let's party!" The Raven/ettes and their escorts found themselves quite awed at their surroundings and everyone agreed that the Addicts had outdone themselves. Everything was exquisite and the evening certainly promised to be a feast to the senses. Claudia almost went into a Nunklear Meltdown at the mere sight of the Shrine (it had definitely been too long since her last Nunkies fix) but somehow she managed to get a hold of herself and merely drooled a little. Teresa wasn't much better off but at least she'd already gotten her first glimpse of LaCroix earlier that day, so that helped a lot. *** As he lied on the divan and enjoyed his Crawfish Florentine, Alex adjusted his white, purple bordered senator's toga a little and wiggled his toes a little, enjoying the freedom his new leather sandals allowed them. He was actually quite happy with his costume, even if he had made a show of grumbling when Alma had presented it to him. But he had drawn the line when Alma had suggested that he should've cut his hair so it would fit the period; he was quite satisfied with his current ponytail look, thank you very much. Alma herself hadn't really taken her own advise to heart as far as authenticity was concerned. Her dress was many things but historical definitely wasn't one of them. The black leather she sported hugged her like a second skin, the parts that the leather was actually covering, that was. Her blond hair was piled in a messy, but undeniably sexy mass on top of her head. And to complete her outfit she wore stilettos so high it was a wonder she could walk at all in them, now that she was a mortal. 'Dressed to kill' might just have been coined to describe her but Alex was certain that her dress couldn't have been too comfortable, especially while they were all lying down on their divans. When the Nunkies' Not So Vestal Dancers began their performance most of the male audience forgot all about their dinners, and Alex wasn't the only one whose viewing pleasure ended up with sore ribs. The ladies in their turn were in raptures over Glennis' Lyre number. Even Time, who couldn't quite understand the peculiar interest some people showed towards LaCroix, agreed that Glennis had a beautiful voice and that her songs were quite entertaining. *** While Time and Dominic headed to the dance floor the rest of the Raven/ettes felt that they needed a while to recover somewhat from the delicious dinner. Settling down they entertained themselves by admiring the dancers and quietly agreed that Time and Dominic moved beautifully together. Time's empire styled dress was made out of cornflower blue silk which perfectly complimented her blue eyes, as did Janette's sapphire necklace and earrings which she had borrowed for the night. Her light-brown hair had been pinned up except for the few corkscrew curls which descended softly onto her shoulders. The dress was definitely not her everyday style but she liked the way the silk swished as she moved, and she found that she even carried herself differently somehow. She was having a great time and she *loved* dancing, especially with a partner who was as light on his feet as Dominic. He was wearing a matching period costume and he looked as if he was born to wear it. Which, now that Time thought of it, he probably was. Dominic wasn't very old as far as vampires were concerned. He was still very much a young English gentleman, right down to his clipped accent. Tilting her head back a little Time met his sparkling eyes and laughed at his 'horror' story about his very late, former dance instructor. "So, Claudia", Kimberly began casually as they watched Teresa and Lars join the dancers. "If seeing all this makes you salivate how come you chose to join the Raven/ettes for the war, for a second year in a row, no less?" She asked, motioning towards all the Nunkies decorations surrounding them. With a crooked grin Claudia took a pointed glance around just as a group of Addicts in peach togas passed them by. "*Peach* isn't really my color." Kimberly's right eyebrow rose and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Good point", she said, controlling her voice. "Yeah, I figured that if I'm going to the war I might as well do it with some style." Claudia's fingers brushed the necklace Janette had very generously allowed her to borrow for the party. It wasn't period jewelry exactly but it did go well together with her soft white, Egyptian style dress. "Well, you definitely picked the right faction for that." Kimberly nodded approvingly. "We may not be able to outnumber certain other factions but then, I've always believed in quality over quantity. Besides, we've got the coolest headquarter." The last part was delivered with a wide grin. Kimberly wasn't now thinking of merely the Raven but everything else that came with it; during this war that included, among other things, Miklos and Alma, and one didn't just go around scoffing at allies like them. "You don't have to convince me, Kimberly, I've already signed on", Claudia said with a faint smile. She might be an addict but she knew very well that she could only play on one side during the war - and she'd already made up her mind. She was a Ravenette, and darn proud of it. "Okay, just as long as you remember that", Kimberly said, and continued then after a small silence. "Does Janette know about your little -- infatuation?" Claudia couldn't quite help grinning at her choice of words but she managed a solid nod, none the less. "She's known ever since the last war. I kinda figured she should know, just in case." "And she's okay with it?" Kimberly was curious. "Yeah, she's cool with it. After all, LaCroix *is* her master." With a silent nod Kimberly agreed with her reasoning. Then she pushed the matter aside and turned to Bodaway who had been quietly talking with Tomosada while waiting for her. She had thought that he'd looked amazing in his casual clothes just earlier that day but now that he was sporting plaid he looked absolutely delicious. "Whoo Boy..." Kimberly thought to herself, as she allowed her eyes to travel all the way up along his very *fine* legs. Oh yeah, he sure looked fine in a kilt, which Kimberly was sure he'd only worn because of her own outfit. Normally Kimberly wouldn't be caught dead wearing anything plaid, after all she was a Ravenette not a FoD member, but tartan was the one exception to the rule. Besides, tartan wasn't just plain plaid, it had long and great history which lent her current dress a certain distinction. And to make matters even more acceptable was the fact that she'd designed the purple and black tartan herself. She'd even officially registered the pattern which was now known as the k'Kimmer tartan, and it was definitely one of a kind - just the way she liked it. In contrast to Bodaway's long, black hair which he'd left loose, Kimberly's own blond hair had been braided and then secured up in a complicated twist. Yep, the two of them made quite striking a couple, even if she said it herself, Kimberly thought silently. Just then someone announced that it was time for Partner Limbo and she wasted no time in dragging Bodaway to the floor. They were closely followed by Alex and Alma just as soon as Alma had kicked off her stilettos. "Hey, how come you two aren't dancing?" Teresa sounded a little out of breath as she and Lars returned to their seats to rest for a moment. After all the exercise she'd just gotten on the floor she was glad that she'd decided to keep her costume traditional Roman; it was wonderfully light and it didn't stick to her skin even now. The green of her palla was a shade or two darker than that of her tunic, the color perfectly setting off her dark red hair which had been arranged into a traditional style. Lars, who had paid attention to her choice and wore a simple toga and a pair of comfortable sandals, was just as glad. He never would've made it through the night if he'd worn the tradition Viking garb as he'd first intended. Claudia and Tomosada shared a quick, surprised look before Claudia answered for both of them. "Just trying to spare old Tom's little toes", she said smiling a little. At Teresa's look she continued, more seriously this time. "No, really. I can't dance. Well, except for the slow pieces but then, that's not really dancing, so..." Then, eager to change the subject Claudia motioned to the floor. "Would you look at that! LaCroix sure knows his stuff, immortal or not." Teresa agreed, letting her eyes rest on the limboing figure. "But I must say, that I am a little disappointed that he's not wearing his toga..." "I know just what you mean." Claudia sighed in agreement. As soon as the Partner Limbo ended Teresa and Lars resumed their dancing. Not long afterwards, Claudia and Tomosada's conversation was interrupted when they heard someone announce that it was snowing outside. "Snowing, in August...?" Claudia repeated, raising her brow in disbelief. "Well, only on way to find out", Tomosada said, getting up and offering her his hand. He led her to the nearest window and they both witnessed as something very snow-like softly descended from the sky. "I'm seeing it and I still can't believe it." Claudia shook her head slowly in amazement. "Then don't believe it", Tomosada whispered into her ear. When she turned to look at him questioningly he smiled a little and confessed. "I overheard someone say that it's actually ash. It seems that the NAs had some kind of an accident." "Oh", Claudia returned his smile before turning back to the window. "Well, it's still beautiful none the less." She felt him shrug behind her, and then she heard him ask, "Would you like to dance, Claudia?" Surprised, she whirled to face him again. "But.. Tom, I can't dance..." "It's a slow piece", he said, just as she realized that The Platters' 'Only You' was playing. Smiling softly, she took his offered hand and they began swaying the night away. "So, Claudia, are you having a good time?" "Just peachy." End -- Claude *NA**NatPacker**N&NPacker**HB* http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/index.html From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTTm-0006jO-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:12:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3919; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:06:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5128; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:06:23 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 06:09:43 +0300 Reply-To: dce@dlc.fi Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: dce Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Fun And Games (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 033bb96e5def0503ab4e232a163b02cd WAR: Ravenettes: Fun And Games (1/2) by Claudia Time: After the 5K race, 23/08/99 Place: Conversion Day Festivities Everyone used with permission. Bodaway, Dominic and Tomosada are my creations. Lars, the Norseman, belongs to Alex. Many thanks for letting me borrow him :) The Raven/ettes arrived to Queen Street in a limo, naturally. They had opted to arrive fashionably late so they'd decided to skip the Virtual Knights' 5K Run and begin their Conversion Day celebration with some fun and games. Alex and Alma climbed out first, followed closely by Kimberly, Time and Claudia. The last ones to make their presence known were three currently ex-vampires. It was no coincidence that there were as many new mortals as there were Raven/ettes in their little party. Janette took very good care of her faction members and she had decided that escorts were in order considering the mayhem war time always brought on. The Raven/ettes paused for a moment to orientate themselves. That, and to allow the other factions' members a chance to witness what true style actually meant. After all, they hadn't spent all that time in preparing for the Conversion Day for nothing. Everywhere around them people from all of the different factions were busy having fun and making the most of this great celebration. "Okay, so where do you people want to go first?" Kimberly asked, determinedly ignoring the looks she got from certain members of their party for being called 'people'. "The chariot race", Teresa declared without hesitation, and Alex agreed with her. "Time? Claudia?" Kimberly turned to the two shorter Ravenettes. Time shrugged a little. "I think I'd just like to browse a little first to see what's available." "I think I'll check out the camel jousting first and go from there", Claudia decided. "All right, we'll spread out then. Just remember what Janette told us and try not to ditch your escorts", Kimberly said. "They're here with us for a reason." Having done her duty, for the time being at least, Kimberly turned her undivided attention to a tall and ruggedly handsome Native American standing beside her, she'd ignored him for long enough already. "Ah, I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?" "Bodaway", the ex-vampire answered. "Bodaway", Kimberly repeated, rolling the name over her tongue as if it were candy. "What does it mean?" "Fire maker." "Oh, how -- apt." Kimberly tried to conceal the lascivious grin forming on her lips. She tried, and failed. But who could've blamed her? After all the name *was* more than fitting, she was feeling warmer already just by looking at him. "Well, Bod--, come along then", she said, grasping his hand, and led him away. Time watched them disappear into the crowd and shook her head, grinning. Poor guy, vampire or not, he didn't stand a chance. As the rest of their group headed to see the race and the tournament she was left alone with Dominic, her new 'body guard'. The buff blond looked friendly enough even though he still had that edge all the former vampires seemed to have. "So," Time began a bit hesitantly. "Where would you like to go first?" Dominic gave her a dazzling smile. "Why don't we go over there", he said, motioning towards their left where people seemed to be eagerly queuing for a chance to dunk some poor woman. As they patiently waited for their turn in the winding line, it didn't take long before Time and Dominic were chatting and laughing like old friends. And much to their mutual surprise they found that many of their likes and dislikes were very similar. "Ooh, you throw like a girl!" Dominic teased Time goodnaturedly as she missed her target for the third time. "Oh, yeah? Let's see how well you do without your 'special skills', old timer", Time countered in like and passed the ball to him. "Watch and learn", Dominic grinned, and made a big show of concentrating before he took careful aim and threw the ball. He missed the target by a mile. Time couldn't help herself and dissolved into giggles at the shocked expression on his face. For a second he seemed utterly bewildered, as if he couldn't understand what an earth had just happened. Then he gave Time a sheepish grin and shrugged a little before picking up a second ball. "Oh yeah, I got it, that's the way a *man* throws it", Time stage whispered to him as he took aim, her eyes twinkling. "I'm taking notes, I want to make sure I don't miss anything." *** Lars and Alma made sure that they got good ringside seats for the Chariot Race. Teresa and Alex had never seen such a race before and they couldn't wait for their first live 'Ben-Hur' experience. As the former vampires made eager bets about the winner the two Raven/ettes almost whiplashed their respective necks in trying to see as much of what was going on around them as possible. They were having the times of their lives and didn't even mind, much, when a small group of RatPackers parked themselves right beside them. "Ooh, look! It's Nunkies!" Teresa breathed, her eyes huge as she spotted her idol. Squinting her eyes to see better, she wondered briefly what LaCroix was doing with the flower printed piece of cloth in his hand. But it all became clear soon enough as he dropped the daisy toga and the race began. The noise level was unbelievable as everyone was rooting for their favourite. Lars and Alma were hopping up and down on their seats, alternately yelling encouragements and threats to the drivers they had betted on. The excitement of the race proved to be too much for Alma and she grabbed Alex by the front of his shirt. Alex let out a surprised yelp, and thanked his lucky stars that Alma didn't currently have her vampiric strength or he'd definitely have been toast. Luckily for Alex, the race came to an end just then. He waited for Alma to release her death grip on his shirt but nothing happened. Finally Alex spoke up, his voice wheezing only a little. "Ah, Alma, the race is over, so you can let go of my shirt, now..." Alma just sat there, looking somewhat dazed. Then suddenly, without a warning she tightened her grip on Alex's shirt, pulled him close and smacked him a big kiss. "I won!" She beamed at his shocked expression, finally letting go of his much suffered garment. "I WON!!" She shrieked again as if she still couldn't quite believe it, and even did a little victory dance. Then, she turned to the bearded Norseman and grinned triumphantly. "Cough it up, Lars." While Lars paid up what he owed her, Alex was busy getting his breath back. That, and thinking that maybe he should take Alma to the tracks or something in the near future. Who knew, she might win again.... *** The camel jousting had been impressive and Claudia still felt the thrill of excitement as she and Tomosada, her appointed escort, left to explore the grounds further. They passed the KC Dunking Booth but paused to watch the body painting action for a moment. Tomosada hadn't said much during the whole time since they'd left the Raven and, now that Claudia came to think of it, he hadn't been overly verbal even while there. Briefly, she wondered if Janette had run out of volunteers to baby-sit them all and had made the Japanese vampire to tag along against his will. However, she didn't entertain that train of thought for very long. The Raven's dwellers were quite numerous and she was certain that Janette would not have had to 'bully' anyone into coming here against their will. "Maybe he's just the strong, silent type", she mused silently to herself as she glanced at her black clad companion. "So, Tomosada..." she began only to be interrupted. "Tom. Call me Tom." "Okay, Tom", Claudia began anew. "Are you having a good time?" He was only of average height, but as his dark eyes turned to her in what seemed to be intense concentration, Claudia felt as if he was towering over her. She hadn't really thought of the fact that this man, who looked only a few years older than herself, was actually a creature who'd probably lived for hundreds of years. Sunlight had made her forget that many of the people around her were actually cured, or reverted, vampires. "Why do you ask?" She'd been so absorbed into her own thoughts that his voice actually startled her. A fact which he noticed, of course, and which made him smile ever so slightly. Claudia was sure that had he still been able to, the smile would've been accompanied by a flash of fangs. Shaking her thoughts off she sternly reminded herself that whatever Tomosada -- excuse me -- *Tom* might have been, at that moment he was just as mortal as she was, and that she had nothing to fear from him. Flashing him a brilliant smile she finally answered his question. "Because, you don't look as if you like it here." When he didn't answer her she continued dryly. "Look, if you'd rather be somewhere else, just tell me. I'm a big girl, I can take it." Tom shrugged slightly. "I'm just not really into body.. painting." Sighing inwardly Claudia wondered why he hadn't just told her that instead of moping around. "Well, we don't have to stay here. There are lots of other stuff to see and do, I'm sure we can find something that you'll enjoy as well. Only, next time just tell me, okay? Neither of us are mind readers, you know." He gave her an oddly amused look but said nothing as they wandered on to find something else to spend their time with. In the end they decided to simply go from one booth to the other and give everything a try. As the day was turning into a night the Raven/ettes met again, as planned. Time and Dominic arrived with their arms loaded with plush FK toys they'd won from the guessing game. But the most satisfied of them all had to be Teresa who'd won an anatomically correct, life sized Nunkies Pop which Lars had very generously dragged around with them all day for her. They were all happily tired from the days activities, but not too tired to still be looking forward to the party at the Shrine later on. "Has anyone seen Kimberly and Bodaway?" Claudia asked. "We're supposed to head for the Shrine in a little while and we still need to change into our historical garb." "No idea where she dragged *Bod*, but I'm sure they're having a *great* time, wherever they are." Alex grinned, wiggling his brows. ********************** -- Claude *NA**NatPacker**N&NPacker**HB* http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/index.html From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTTn-0006jO-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:12:03 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3947; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:08:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5476; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:08:55 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 20:10:47 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: Admin: Backdated posts X-To: fkwar10leaders@eGroups.com To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 050de8743b9a2b2253b5cc72dcb0eddf Hello, With the war extension, if there are posts that need to be back dated to finish a thread, please feel free to do so. But, be aware that as of Friday at 12:01am EST (Toronto time) Vampires will be back in their original form. Any posts that refer to times after 12:01am Friday will need to be regarding Vampire characters in their vampire form instead of their mortal form. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTUj-0003Qw-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:13:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2589; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:06:15 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5030; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:06:09 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:07:13 -0400 Reply-To: "Kathleen M. Wilson" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Kathleen M. Wilson" Subject: WAR: Nothers - A Nother Excuse to Paaaarrrr-ty! (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6a7b15c64ed5ae52980f8cfae27b571c Title: A Nother Excuse to Paaaarrrr-ty! written by: Kat, with snippets from NightDancer & Liz Place: le Chateau Time: Monday night, following "Here a Duck, There a Duck, Everywhere a Nother Duck 01/01" and before the party at the Shrine. Daf was outside, rubbing down the horses when a voice called to him. "Oh Daf...." He glanced up, almost choking in shock at the view that greeted him. "Liz, shouldn't you ... I mean, you're...." "Would mind helping me?" Liz asked. "I have my chemise on, but I need help lacing up my corset." The stableboy began to stutter. "Um...what about...don't you...um, couldn't Kat do it?" he finally forced out. "Kat has carpel tunnel," Liz answered, shaking her head. That wasn't the only thing that shook. "And everyone else is busy getting dressed themselves." (Or so she thought--NightDancer was actually tearing through her wardrobe, trying to make up her extremely indecisive mind about what to wear.) "Please?" she added, when he hesitated. Daf looked helplessly at the horses. "Oh...all right. Just let me put these guys to bed first." "Of course," Liz smiled. "And a shower before you get up here wouldn't hurt either." Well, at least she hadn't said *when* he got up there, Daf mused as he hurried away to the stables. That might be a bit too much! Daf was still working on Liz s corset when NightDancer flounced grumpily into the room and flopped down on the Merc s bed. Without permission. What s the matter with...*oof*...you? the redhead asked, grunting as the stableboy tugged again on her corset. I can t decide what to wear, Dancer grumbled into the mattress. Should I go as a Renaissance noblewoman, a wench, a New Testament woman, or-- "Yes," Liz interrupted. "Huh?" Dancer stared at her in bewilderment. "Yes to which one?" "All of them." "Even the Prairie Schoolmarm and the--" "Of course," Liz answered. "Just switch off. You can even borrow my wench costume I bought at RenFaire last year. It's hanging in the closet." "Gee, thanks! Yours is a lot nicer than mine!" Her mood much improved, Dancer bounced off the bed. Then she paused, frowning. "But how am I gonna get that bodice laced?" "Have Daf do it. He's great with corsets and we'll be taking him with us." Daf looked a bit unnerved at this suggestion, but kept his mouth shut. After all, remarking that he didn't know how many corsets his arms and hormones could handle would just result in merciless teasing from his three fans. "You're taking me, too?" he asked instead. "Well, duh!" Dancer replied grinning. "Course," Liz answered. "How could Kat and I be Aria and Elaine without someone to be Richie?" Daf blushed a shade darker than his hair. He'd been coaxed into reading some of Kat and Liz's fanfic, and...well...let's just say that playing Richie had some interesting implications! Suddenly lacing corsets began to look tame. "Umph, Daf, that's tight enough," Liz interrupted his thoughts. "Any more and I won't be able to breathe." he thought. With all the mental images this conversation had been conjuring up, breathing was an effort. Dancer emerged from Liz's closet, where she had disappeared in pursuit of the costume. "This is gorgeous, Liz!!" Liz turned around, facing Daf. Well?" "I ... uh .... Should that much be .... I mean ... Can't you put more ...." "These things are as far in as they'll go," Liz said, hurt. "What's wrong with my cleavage?" "N-n-nothing!" Daf stammered. a slightly non-PG-13-rated part of his mind agreed energetically. "Much better," Liz smiled. "I think Kat and I can handle everything from here. Why don't you go help NightDancer?" Dancer smiled a canary-sized grin that ate up her face. "Yes, please, Daf?" "S-sure," he agreed. One last look at Liz and he headed for NightDancer. "Oh, and Daf, yah _ah_ goin' tah the pahtay tonight, ahn' yah?" Liz called him back, slipping into Elaine's accent. Daf turned completely red this time, from head to toe. "Yeah, I guess so," he gasped. "See yah then," Liz smiled, dismissing them. ********************************************************************** **** ****** Fleurette, dressed in a royal blue toga with peach trimming and a golden rose-shaped clasp, paced around the chateu's foyer, grumbling to herself about how her faction seemed determined to drive her completely insane. Jeanne who was dressed in a cream toga with a golden trim and a Jade brooch as the clasp on the shoulder, her hair pulled back and hung in ringlets, placed a motherly hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I'm sure they'll be down any minute now, dear," she said. "No they won't," Fleurette replied. "They're never coming down! They're going to make sure I miss this party and royally piss off Nunkie and they're trying to get me killed!" "Who is?" Elladara asked as she entered the foyer. Fleurette turned to find the other woman dressed in a gown that appeared to be from the early Renaissance. "At least _somebody_ around here knows how to tell time," she sighed. "You look great by the way. Janette would love that dress." Elladara smiled. "Thanks." "Now if the other three quarters of my brain would get their butts in gear we'd be all set," Fleurette replied. "Somethin' a miss there, ducks? You sound like ya're in a wee bit of a bother." Fleurette turned around again and spotted Kat standing on the stairway. She was dressed in pair of soft brown leather breeches with purple leather tooling up the sides of both legs, brown leather boots (also with purple tooling), a brown leather jerkin (once again with purple tooling), brown bracers on both her arms, and a natural colored shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid and the hilt of a broadsword peeked over her right shoulder. She would have looked like the perfect medieval mercenary woman if she hadn't been wearing her glasses. "You're not wearing a toga?" Fleurette asked in shock. "You, the original toga party animal?" Kat shrugged. "I never said I actually wore a toga," she pointed out. "At my toga parties, it's usually the clones who are in the togas. Anyway, if I'm supposed to be Aria I've gotta dress like an English Daughter of Andraven and they wouldn't wear togas. Makes me glad I smuggled the Holy Sword of Ryan and Occasional Protector of Methos through though. Although maybe I should change it to the Holy Sword of Ryan and Occasional Protector of Methos and Natalie now." "Is that real?" Jeanne asked, referring to the broadsword. "Technically," Kat answered vaguely. "But don't worry, it's peace-bonded." She turned around and showed them that the blade was tied to the bladric on her back with a purple ribbon. She turned back around and vaulted over the steps to land perfectly on the floor. "So, we waiting on NightDancer, Liz, and Daf I take it?" "Somebody mention me?" NightDancer asked as she entered. She was currently wearing Liz's wench costume, but she had a large, overstuffed garment bag slung over her shoulder. Fleurette shook her head. "I don't even want to know," she sighed. Kat glanced up the stairs and grinned. "And here comes Daf and my other half," she giggled." Sure enough, Daf and Liz entered a few moments later, arm in arm. Daf was dressed as the classic Southern gentleman but Liz was incredible. Her costume consisted of a dress that started off the shoulder, then wrapped around to an incredibly small waist. From the waist, it billowed out into a voluptuous floor length black skirt, trimmed in layers of blue lace. An overskirt also hung from the waist, where it was first swept up into the bustle, then fell into a long train. Elbow length gloves, a fan, a ribbon around her neck and hair (a blonde wig) captured in an intricate knot involving flowers completed the vision. "How do Ah look?" she asked. "Bloody perfect, as always," Kat answered, slipping back into her part. "Elaine herself couldn't do better, love. Although the blue contacts were a nice touch." "Ah thaht sah, too," Liz laughed. "Shall we ladies?" Daf asked once he and Liz and reached the bottom of the stairs. Fleurette adjusted her toga and the Nothers head out. From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTd9-0001i2-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:21:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2658; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:17:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6153; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:17:20 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 19:19:12 PDT Reply-To: Cousin Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Shelley Subject: WAR:UF: The Honey-Stick Machine, 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f99c70e5a2673eac86680636f72a0357 TITLE: The Honey-Stick Machine BY: Cousin Shelley LOCATION: The Hive TIME: Immediately following 'A Honey of a Rescue' "Pebmendndmend. Hominamohimanhomina." "What in the sam hill?" Julia leaned closer still and strained to make out the words. Shelley sank deeper into the plush chair and sighed. "Ohahohahallinallliblib." "Oh here, let me thwap her and see if that helps." Jules was happy to volunteer. "No, no, I think I'm getting some of it," Laurey said. She and Julia quietly discussed what they were both hearing. Laurey's experience translating techno-gibberish and Julia's language skills helped them decipher the exhausted woman's mumblings. Laurey decided she was displaying a latent-tendency to emulate Ralph Kramden. Julia vehemently disagreed and insisted she was miraculously channeling Lou Abbott. Finally, the blabbering started making a bit of sense. "Wait, wait! Latin! She saying something that sounds . . . Latin." Whispers filled the room as UFfers wondered what cryptic message or ancient profundity would rush forth once the woman had recuperated a bit. Julia leaned in. "Yes? Yes . . . Oh. It's something pharmaceutical." Several heads dropped in disappointment as Laurey nodded and headed for Shelley's suitcases. Several minutes later, the babbling had stopped and the woman seemed to be getting it together. April stood next to Jules. "A wasp did this to her? She was totally scrambled." "No, no, she talked OK after the wasp. It was all the falls off the bike that did this, I guess." "I know I'm going to regret this," April said, "but how did she manage to keep falling off the bike?" Shelley, in possession of all her faculties once again, spoke up. "I didn't exactly fall off, I was blown off the thing. It's impossible to keep your mouth shut and pant at the same time." "Everybody's glad you're all right, and we're sorry we didn't come sooner," Lora said, as she stepped inside. Shelley nodded, all apparently forgotten and forgiven. "So now let's open the box. Want to do the honors?" As Shelley pulled each strange piece from the unmarked package, excitement built among everyone in the room. Shelley laid each object on the table, then gasped as she discovered two glowing, golden jars of honey in the bottom of the box. She read the enclosed note: *Dear Shelley, You said you & your friends like honey straws. Here's a machine for them. The sealer is a hand-held version of one of those big, pricey ones you see on annoying infomercials. As far as the rest, it's not an automated machine, mind you, like a modern day washing machine, but it's a machine in the sense that a wringer washer is a machine if you . . . * Shelley skipped through several lines of similar content, and silently scanned her Dad's instructions at the bottom, the heartbeats of each and every UFfer racing in anticipation. "He says here that while our hives *will* produce a *small* amount of honey in the two weeks we're here, that he thought he'd give us a fresh-honey head start. These two jars of honey actually came from our hives!" After she finished the message she carefully refolded the letter and placed it inside the box. She looked quickly at everyone and smiled. "He sent us a Honey-Stick Machine!" A short time later, it was assembled and all the UFfers examined it, admiring its simplicity. An end of each straw would have to be sealed, one at a time, with the hand-held crimping device. Then up to 24 straws would secure into the bottom tray, then a tray with corresponding holes would snap into place above them. One would simply pour a specified amount of honey onto the top and wait for it to fill the straws, leaving enough empty end to seal. Then the top tray would be carefully removed and each now-full straw would be crimped with the little heat device, wiped clean of any drips... And Voila. Honey Sticks. Everyone's gears were turning. What to do with them. To whom to give them. Different colored straws. Different colored honey. Different flavors and combinations. Full of momentum, the UFfers set about creating the oft-mentioned, much-loved confections. It was going to be a long night. Espresso would brew, midnight oil would burn, and honey would flow. And someone had already produced a length of tawny-colored ribbon and a small jar of cinnamon. END 1/1 --------- Cousin Shelley netbus1@hotmail.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTnO-00027t-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:32:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0526; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:28:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7554; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:28:44 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 21:36:35 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP: Tranquil is as Tranquil Does (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0b81a3a16057e9b120feff1dee9925b3 WAR: DP: Tranquil is as Tranquil Does (1/1) Place: DP Mansion Time: Right after 'Let the Buyer Beware' By: Cousin Mary Shana, the only DP with a bedroom on the first floor, was walking back to her room, a steaming cup of mocha royal in one hand and the latest issue of RenFaire Quarterly in the other, when she heard a *Thump, thump* sound coming from the back of the Mansion. Curious, Shana took a sip of her beloved java and went to investigate. *Thump, thump* "What -is- that?" The DP angel whispered, realizing the sound was coming from the study. It was strong and steady. Rhythmic, but not definitely not the base of an errant CD player. "Thump, thump* Slowly, cautiously, she pushed open the study door. "Oh my!" Shana gasped, whatever she'd expected to find, this wasn't it. *Thump, thump* There, at the long mahogany reading table in the center of the room, sat Mary, the DP Godmother, beating her forehead against the high sheen wood. "No, no, no." The blonde intoned as she lifted her head and let it fall back, it bounced once. *Thump, thump* "Mary!" Shana rushed in, slapping down her magazine and setting her mug down, "Stop that this once!" "No," Mary told her. *Thump, thump* "Did you hear?" "Hear what?" Shana marveled that the DP Godmommy was still conscious, ye gods but she had a thick skull! "Vee-bay, cops," *Thump, thump* "The Tapestry has been declared stolen." "Hey!" Shana stamped her foot, "We aren't the only ones with a stolen Nunkies in Repose Tapestry! The Mercs have one too!" "Yeah," *Thump, thump* "Theirs isn't up for public auction though." Suddenly a gust of wind through the still open Study door sent a small coupon fluttering off a nearby bookcase and right onto the table below Mary's slightly pink forehead. "What's this?" The blonde straightened and picked up the golden coupon, "'Good for one Personal Tranquillity Device'?" She looked at Shana, "What does that mean?" "I dunno," The auburn hared Thug shrugged, "I wished for my headache to go away," She closed her eyes and smiled as she remembered the bottle of painkillers and a copy of Pillow Book it had gotten her, "Go ahead, wish for something that'll make you tranquil." "There aren't many things that would make me tranquil right now," Mary griped, "And most involve 'Get out of jail free' cards." Suddenly there was a twinkling golden light that blinked into existence right before them. "What the-?!" Mary took one look at those glossy, iridescent wings and turned to Shana, "Quick! Get a can of Raid !" "Wait!" Shana hushed her... by slapping her hand over her dear friend's mouth. The fanfic fairy gave Mary an evil look, then with a wave of a tiny wand disappeared in a painfully bright flash. The two co-eds blinked away the stars from their eyes. "Well, that was special," Mary quipped, when Shana let her that is. "Lookee," Shana pointed down. There, right over the dent Mary'd been working on putting into the table, sat a manila envelope. It read 'Cousin Mary,' in neat calligraphy. "Guess that's it." "What could it...?" Mary frowned, she leaned forward and opened it, sliding the numerous documents it contained and flipping through them quickly. Then she began to laugh. "Uh, you okay?" Shana asked, worried all that pounding had caused permanent damage. Mary grinned hugely, "I am now," and with that, she spread the documents across the table for Shana top see. Shana looked down, and saw that they now had everything they'd need to show that they legally owned the tapestry... and had for generations! She laughed, "Who would have thought it? The DP, saved by paperwork!" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cousin Mary ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTuB-0007iw-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:39:19 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0562; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:34:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8126; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:34:59 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:36:40 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Receipt of Message of Peace (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0dcd8432c20f7ba17695d0578790e0bd Title: Receipt of Message of Peace (1/1) Date: August 15, 1999 Time: Sunday Afternoon Place: Light Cousin HQ (Monastery) by Annette Williams, 2IC with permission. "Annette a couple of addicts were here looking for you," said Shelley "Really, did they say why?" Annette asked. "They wanted to give you this envelope. I told them you were giving a tour and they could wait but they said they had other deliveries," Shelley explained. "Maybe they were bringing my pin!" Annette excitedly grabbed the envelope and started to open it. "What pin?" asked Shelley "My Conversion day pin. I am an addict too you know." "Yeah whatever," said Shelley rolling her eyes. "No, no pin." Annette said, "It's a coupon and it reads..." This Coupon Entitles The Bearer To One Free PERSONAL TRANQUILITY DEVICE Of Their Choice. "Stumped for an idea? Snixco catalogues are available upon request. Delivery of actual PTD's provided by Fanfic Fairies Unlimited" "Why did they give me this?" Annette asked. "I don't know," said Shelley, "What are you going to do with it?" "Beat's me. But I'm sure by the time this war is over, we'll have figure out some use for it," Annette answered as she pocketed the coupon. From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JU0y-0003tT-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:46:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2848; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:43:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8871; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:43:57 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:45:54 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Sometimes the Cure is Worse than the Disease (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5cd5c7b28e5ce196d25377fd170a3eb5 Title: Sometimes the Cure is Worse than the Disease (1/1) Authors: Arletta Asbury and Shelley , with permission from all used Date: Friday, August 20th Time: Late Morning to Evening Place: Television Studios and the Monastery The staff of Jerry's show had cleared the audience from the studio as quickly and unobtrusively as possible (considering the circumstances). In fact they had acted as if pandemonium was almost an everyday occurrence. (Apparently his staff is *very* well trained.) On their way out, one of them pulled Arletta aside. Assuming she was Shelley's booking agent, the staff member suggested that Arletta call her later to make arrangements for Shelley to appear on an upcoming episode about German culture and it's influence on Canadian life. Not surpriseinly, Arletta had demurred by saying only that they should *do* lunch sometime and discuss the matter further. Once in the corridor outside the studio, Arletta sighed. She held Shelley *firmly* by one arm while Annette was grasping Shelley's other arm equally tightly. Brandi was bringing up the rear, carrying Shelley's pitchfork. The other Cousins had been sympathetic. As for a cure?? ... Well, they really had no explanations as to just WHY Shelley alone, still retained the Vetterberg delusions. Arletta sighed *again* and was probably going to do it for the third time when she stopped in mid-step. Through the glass door of the adjacent studio she'd spotted someone she recognized. "Uhhhh," she began, incoherent as she often was under duress. "Vat?" Shelley queried. Even *she* had noticed that Arletta's attention had wandered. "Let's just duck in here for a while," Arletta announced as an idea occurred to her. Annette and Brandi just exchanged glances as if both were thinking, 'Has our leader lost it too?' The four of them filed into the back row of that studio and sat down. The TV program being filmed was featuring a hypnotist that Arletta had recognized from her frequent jaunts to Renaissance Faires. And he was just starting to work on a volunteer from the audience who had agreed to be his next 'subject'. A few moments later, the lady on stage was (predictably) flapping her arms and clucking in a fair imitation of a chicken. Arletta swiveled her head and noted that Shelley was doing likewise. If you can imagine a chicken with a bad German accent you can understand that the other two Light Cousins were not really pleased at this turn of events, but Arletta had a knowing look on her face. When the hypnotist on stage snapped his fingers to awaken his human chicken-thingie on stage, Shelley awoke too. With a start Shelley sat up and said, "I must have fallen asleep. Uhh ... where am I? And why does Brandi have a pitchfork?" --------------------------- In the van on the way back to the monastery, they told Shelley of her adventures. It took a while, but she finally believed them. The outfit she had on told her that *something* unusual was going on, and this was as good an explanation as any. "But who did it to us??" she asked the others. "We're not sure...someone who likes pink?" Annette offered. "Aaarrrggggg" was all Shelley could manage in response. She spent the rest of the journey in silent reflection. Well, silent revenge plotting was probably closer to the truth. When they arrived at the monastery, it had begun to rain. "Do you have an umbrella in here?" Arletta asked Shelley. "U-u-umbrella?" Shelley stammered, a strange look coming into her eyes. Suddenly, she got down on all fours and began to bark and do a fair imitation of wagging an imaginary tail. "Oh no..." chorused Brandi and Annette. "Uh oh, I think more of that hypnotist's suggestions stuck," Arletta said, holding her head in her hands. "WOOF!" Shelley said excitedly. ----------------------------------------- At least the trip to the mall had been successful. Arletta clutched the book titled "How to Hypnotize Anyone to do Anything" in her arms. She had hoped to get a more technical and less "pop Culture" type of book, but it would do. "Shelley," she called out. "WOOF!" came the reply. "Here girl, come here, here Shelley," she called out to the Cousinly dog. Shelley came, as expected, on all fours. "Sit!" Arletta commanded, then opened up the book to the chapter labeled "So Your Subject Thinks He or She is a Dog?" "Now, watch the doggie bone...only the doggie bone..." she began, as instructed in the book. -------------------------------------------- Arletta felt the session was going well. She had gotten the girl to go under with ease. She mused at how susceptible Shelley was to hypnosis, and apparently whammying too. "You are NOT a dog, repeat that," she commanded. "I am NOT a dog..." Shelley complied, sleepily. "You are..." Arletta began. "Um, Arletta?" Brandi whispered, poking her head into the study. "SHHHH! What is it?" "One of my FERRETS got loose..." "I am a...ferret" Shelley replied, sleepily. "Oh no," Arletta groaned. "Let's go look for it. Shelley, you will awaken now and we will continue this later". With that, she snapped her fingers and Shelley's eyes popped open. Arletta and Brandi went to look for the missing ferret, never noticing how Shelley began to chirp and bounce around. ------------------------------------------------ "Okay, NO INTURRUPTIONS!" Arletta shouted and slammed the door to the study. "I think the Vetterberger deal was better," she added dryly, watching Shelley try to imitate a ferret. "Uh, sit?" she tried, hoping that the dog training would work. It did and the Cousinly ferret sat down in front of her. "Good....good ferret. Now, watch the, uh, ferret bone..." she began. ------------------------------------------------ This particular session was not going well. "NO, you are NOT a chicken!!" Arletta said, for the tenth time. "Cluck?" Shelley replied. "NO!" Arletta said firmly. "Woof?" "NO!" And so it went. Arletta was about to give up, this was going nowhere. She suspected they needed a professional at this, but had no idea where to find one again. She sighed deeply, just as the door opened up. Brandi walked into the room, reading a large hardcover book. "Mmmmm, hi," she mumbled, still reading. "Brandi, I ASKED for no interruptions!" Arletta complained. Who knew what Shelley's highly suggestible subconscious would pick up next. "Ummm? Oh, sorry!" Brandi said, finally looking up. "How's it going?" she asked. "WOOF! CLUCK! GOBBLE GOOBLE!!!" Shelley answered enthusiastically. "Oh," Brandi said. "I GIVE UP!" Arletta shouted, frustration finally getting the better of her. "Hmmmmm..." Brandi replied, then promptly took the book in her hands and bopped Shelley over the head with it. "That always does it in the movies!" she said, smiling. Looking at Arletta's face, she decided it was time for her exit. Watching her go, Arletta felt a familiar headache returning. "Um, Arletta? Why did Brandi hit me on the head?" Shelley asked. "Oh. OH!" She continued, as the signifigence of recent events flooded over her. "I didn't ... I couldn't have... OH NO!!!!! I DID, DIDN'T I?" Shelley turned bright red (not pink). "Shelley?!?!?!" Arletta asked, examining Shelley's face for any signs of animal or pitchfork behavior. She didn't see any. Arletta giggled in relief. Shelley was finally cured! From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JVc5-0006yZ-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:28:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3428; Wed, 25 Aug 99 01:26:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7222; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:26:35 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:28:32 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA/CGW: One Last Chariot Ride To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 79b56b260a25bffbe56f8ee35a9f4906 WAR: NA/CGW: One Last Chariot Ride TIME: After Birthday Girl post and C-Day posts (approximately 12:30 AM) on September 24 WHERE: Outside the Shrine By MacCousin Heather with the help of Brenda Bell MacCousin Heather wandered out of the shrine momentarily to collect her thoughts. It had been several hours since the kitty attack. She had avoided looking at LaCroix all evening, avoiding him, not very gracefully, but it was done. Thankfully he avoided her as well. Jennifer/Caligula was raging another room. MacCousin rubbed her eyes wearily. Nothing seemed to go as planned, of course this was war but other things were interrupting the all-important planning of the wedding. She took a seat on an outside bench and stared at the stables, smelling of clean horses and hay. The whiff of molasses-laced sweet feed hung in the air. MacCousin yawned slightly. A chariot pulled up, someone must be practicing for the next conversion day. It was some joker with a dark mask. MacCousin stood and turned, planning to warn the HP that another group may be planning an attack and then felt a wool bag thrown over herself. "Ack!!!" she yelled. The deep folds of wool kept her protests to a low grumble. MacCousin was dragged to a chariot and whisked away before anyone noticed she was gone. The clickety-clack of the shod horses hooves raced through the streets of Toronto. MacCousin tried to punch her assailant but she couldn't find a way out of the giant woolsack she was in. Heather finally gave up. She began to wonder who may be responsible for this. The Merc's? The Knighties? Or possibly was this how LaCroix was going to get even with her for witnessing the kitty attack and laughing at him? The chariot stopped half an hour later, the bag was pulled away. "This is outrageous! I'm an addict and whatever faction you're with is going to be sorry they ever pulled this stunt! MacNunkies, I mean LaCroix, will be furious!" Heather told her attacker even though this was a small lie. Nunkies at this point would be too happy to see her go. She hit her kidnapper through the mask he was wearing. "Oof!" The kidnapper grabbed her hands and grumbled. "Is this any way ta talk to yer fiance who rescued you from certain death!" Chris pulled off the mask. "Certain death???" MacCousin stared at him. "That is the most ridiculous thing I've heard you say!" She folded her arms across her chest. "Take me back to the shrine. We will discuss this when I get back to the Glow!" Before she could utter another word, the bag went over her head again. MacCousin was tied up, her grumbles now much quieter. Chris rolled his eyes at her mumbled threats and chucked at the horses. They trotted off into the night. MacCousin Heather Keeper of the MacNunkies Tapestry http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/ ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JVhb-0006Do-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:34:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4829; Wed, 25 Aug 99 01:32:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7542; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:32:04 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:33:59 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:NA/Vaqs--The Defection (01/02) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 70c56e70ece057f7ee73aa44c078a0be NA/VAQ: The Defection 01/02 by Patt Elmore When: Monday Night/Tuesday Morning August 23/24 Where: The Ratpacker Tunnels ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I hate these tunnels." Patt was talking aloud to herself, as much for company as affirmation of thought. "They're dank, dreary and smell like Ratsies." The Third Cousin had been walking for what seemed a very long time. Ever since her narrow escape from a tarred-and-feathered Kriel, the mature addict had been traversing the RatPacker domain with no set goal in mind, except to get as far away from the NA Shrine as possible. Now, Patt was beginning to feel the effects of a large supper, followed by exercise. It was time to surface. "But, which way?" she said, coming to yet another fork in the tunnels. "Go right." Patt jumped, striking her head on a low overhang. She cried out, and dropped to her knees in pain. "No need for kneeling," the voice said jokingly. "Don't worry, I'm not," Patt replied angrily. Rubbing the tender spot on her head, and glad she wasn't Jennifer, the mature addict strained to see in the dark. "Who, where and what do you want?" The voice chuckled. "You know who and where. The pertinent question is what do *you* want, or rather *need* right now?" "Since I'm already in a sewer drain, the *need* is subject to easy taking care of," Patt retorted, getting back to her feet. "We're wasting time with this chit chat," the voice rebuked her. "Go right until I tell you to stop." "Why should I trust a nameless, faceless presence?" Patt said, veering to the right anyway. "I haven't let you crash yet, have I?" "That depends," the addict countered. "Right now I feel like my head crashed into something." "Which was your fault, not mine. I cannot keep you from being clumsy. I can just try to guide you in the right direction, from time to time." Patt didn't like the voice, but it was better than being alone. She continued right until it instructed her to go left, then right again. The addict came to a long, narrow ledge which seemed familiar. "Know where you are now?" the voice said, seeming to sense her thoughts. Patt squinted, taking her bearings. "This is the tunnel that leads to the church." "Give the lady a tequila," the voice laughed. "Now, why in the world would I want to go anyway near this place again?" Patt demanded. "Because," the voice said, its tone growing serious. "This is where you want to be. This is where you can call home." "No way!" Patt shouted, clamping her hands to her head. "Get out of my cabesa, Spaniard. It was bad enough having you in my hard drive now your invading my thoughts." "Admit it, Patricia," Vachon's soft voice flowed over her, soothing, gentle. "I've always been in your thoughts . . . why do you think I accessed your PC so easily. I'm not a virus, you know. I am your RAM." "Baaaaaa," Patt replied. "Don't try to fool yourself into believeing that." "Joke if you want to, little addict," Vachon said with a smile in his voice. "Your wit and quick turn of phrase are some of the things I like about you. That and you speak enough Spanish to order frioles and cerveza." "This is all very interesting, but I really can't be talking to you, you know." Patt suddenly remembered a rule. "I haven't gotten permission from the Vaqs to be chatting with Vachon." "It's okay," the voice replied. "You're not really chatting with me; you're thinking out loud and that's permissible. Now, if you want to be near me, all you have to do is walk through that door at the end of the tunnel." Patt thought, the darkness beginning to swirl in her brain, the smell of leather heady in her nostrils. The NA had gotten so upset at the Vaq plundering of the Shrine, but actually, Patt had thought many of their ideas and posts were quite clever . . . "Come in?" This time the voice was female. It came from beyond the door that Patt had just, without realizing, knocked on. Fate had taken the Third Cousin in hand and given her a little push. Who was she to argue. The mature addict pushed open the trap door and entered Vaquera/o territory. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 01/02 patt79ad@juno.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JVsv-0007Q3-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:46:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4858; Wed, 25 Aug 99 01:43:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7941; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:43:57 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 00:53:10 +0100 Reply-To: "Tracy S.Morris" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Tracy S.Morris" Subject: War: Vaqs: The realities of war intrude (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 16696cc7a5f316def8291235edb3fcb7 The realities of war intrude (1/2) Time: Monday afternoon, after the attack on the DP's Place: Vachon's church Tracy Sue was in a snit. The hole in the roof was still there. Okay, Bonnie had insisted that the respective headquarters be returned to pre-swapping condition, but at least they'd allowed for renovations to proceed. Morosely, she went to the kitchen, and fixed herself a cup of tea. Sensing his benefactor's discontent, Rocky, the Grand Canyon Squirrel chirped at her questioningly. The Vaqmadre offered the mottled Squirrel a morose smile, and a handful of nuts. "Where did you get the fuzzy freeloader?" a voice in the window behind her made Tracy Sue jump. She turned, and saw Juan's smiling face. "Even mortal you guys do that!" She scolded. "It's because I can," He grinned proudly. "Did Vachon tell you to say that?" She scolded. "I just figured that if I couldn't have a faction of my own, I would adopt you guys." "Well, I suppose that by definition, all Vachon's family are Vaqueros too." The Inca's expression turned serious. "What's on your mind?" "The hole in the roof. Again." "Is that all." He waved away her concerns, and flipped out his cell phone. A short call later and he assured her it was all taken care of. "What did you do?" The Vaqmadre couldn't hide her curiosity. "Remember the vampire construction workers?" Tracy Sue's smile turned into a leer. "Absolutely!" "Behave," The Inca chastised. "I booked them for next week. They're going to re-roof the church, take down those animal pens outside, repaint...varnish. You won't even recognize this place next time you come to visit." "How did you even manage that?" Tracy Sue's impression of the Inca rose a notch or two. "I would think that after the addict experience, they'd want to stay as far away from fandom as possible." "I promised them that everyone would stay as far away from the Church as possible until they were done." "Oh Javier's not going to like that." She shook her head. "Where will he stay?" "He'll stay with me, and like it." The Inca said in a fatherly voice. "After all, he has no other choice." Tracy Sue shook her head. "I don't know." Just then, a squeal from the other room grabbed the Vaqmadre's attention. The Inca's face was already gone from the window, so she ran to investigate as well. Tracy Sue Vaqmadre Vaqs in black leather, flock together! From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JVxO-0003s5-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:50:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4873; Wed, 25 Aug 99 01:48:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8142; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:48:30 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 00:57:44 +0100 Reply-To: "Tracy S.Morris" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Tracy S.Morris" Subject: War:Vaqs: the realities of war intrude (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0251973dcbfe86a9b08a271ba5ad8843 >The realities of war intrude (2/2) Time:Monday afternoon Place: Vachon's church Juan and Tracy Sue nearly collided as they converged on the sound of the squeal. It turned out to be Nafs. Tracy Sue remembered sending Nafs to investigate the strange pendant thingey that Vachon received shortly after becoming mortal, and made a logical leap. "You found something?" In response, research girl scooted away from her computer. Tracy Sue and Juan Valdez, generic Inca and attorney at law, crowded around the terminal. "The symbols are identical," He observed. "Yeah, but that's a cube. Not a pendant," Tracy Sue said. "Guys, read the story." Nafs pointed to the screen. Tracy Sue squinted at the screen, and read out loud. "It's called a Galen's cube. Supposedly it's used to cure vampirism." "I've heard of that." Juan whistled quietly. "But we always assumed that it was a legend told by master vampires to scare fledglings." "According to this, it was used once with limited success." Tracy Sue said. "The vampire who used it was turned into a mortal for two weeks. In the process he turned every vampire around him mortal as well. At the end of two weeks, he reverted. The rest of the vampires didn't." The three looked at one another. Nafs summed up what each was thinking. "This is bad." "Very bad," The Inca agreed. "I don't want to be mortal, and I know that Javier doesn't either. I was returned to my mortal state two Thursday's ago, so that means that we don't have much time." "Maybe these baubles are part of the solution to this." Tracy Sue played with the one in her hands. "If we knew how they worked, maybe they could change you back." "If we knew who actually cast the spell to begin with," Nafs said morosely. "I can think of a certain blonde 'Defec-a-tive Knight' who fits the bill," Tracy Sue mimicked Screed's pronunciation of detective. "Nick isn't the only Vampire who wants his mortality back," The Inca said. "What if it was another?" "The Conversion day festivities are coming up," Tracy Sue fingered the pendant thoughtfully. "There are probably going to be a few Knighties there. I'm just betting that if we wave these things around in front of them, they'll know what they are." The Inca nodded dubiously. "Then what?" "We get Nick to reverse the spell." "Why would he do that?" "He'll revert back anyway. And I'm betting his conscience won't allow him to do so without reversing what he did to everyone else." Both Juan and Nafs looked less than certain of Tracy Sue's thinking, but they didn't care to argue at the moment. Tracy Sue Vaqmadre Vaqs in black leather, flock together! From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JW6c-00074B-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 02:00:19 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3525; Wed, 25 Aug 99 01:58:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9294; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:58:01 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 22:38:35 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:NA/Vaqs--The Defection (02/02) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 51396030b37555bc582f94cd420eb850 NA/VAQ: The Defection 02/02 by Patt Elmore When: Monday Night/Tuesday Morning August 23/24 Where: Vachon's Church Permission granted by all who appear within ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "You want to what?" Tracy Sue looked skeptically at the Third Cousin. "Defect," Patt said calmly. "Do you all understand the concept of asylum? This *is* a church, for goodness sake." The only *asylum* she merits is one with padded cells," Echo noted. Several Vaqs nodded in agreement. "I'm not buying this defection thing at all." Rae advanced toward the addict. "You've been loyal to LaCroix even when he was bouncing you off the ceiling." "And I'm just about bounced out," Patt replied. "Since this revert-to-mortality thing, I've done a lot of thinking. I've stayed with LaCroix due to fear and lust," she admitted with a grin. "But that's no reason to base a relationship. Truth is, I have more fun with Vachon. It took me seeing the both of them in a mortal context to come to understand that." "I'm still not convinced,"Rae growled. "Neither am I." Tracy Sue cocked an eyebrow at the addict. The squirrel on her shoulder chirped and gnawed in agreement. "We need you to prove your loyalty, Elmore. I just don't see this sudden change in your affiliations." "Shoot, I *Sparked* all over the place last war, Tracy," Patt reminded the woman. "Why do you find it so hard to believe I'd follow a guy I've shared a hard-drive with?" "Yea, but this is different," Tracy Sue replied. "We're talking *major* vamp switching, not just minor character dalliances. If you come over to Vachon's way of thinking, it's a pretty heavy duty shift in the paradigm." "What can I say?" Patt shrugged. "I've developed a thing for leather." "Well then, that brings me back to my first thought." Tracy Sue snapped her fingers and Melissa quickly placed an article in her hand. "The loyalty test." "You want me to slack off?" Patt's face broke into a radiant grin. Dropping into the nearest almost clean couch, the former addict placed her hands behind her head and crossed her feet on the coffee table. "No problemo, Senora Sue." "This is worse than dealing with KC," Tracy Sue muttered, then raised her voice slightly. "Get your feet off the furniture . . . at least until you've proved Vaquera-worthy." "Yessum," Patt sat up straight, waiting. "Yes . . ." Tracy held out the small object in her hand . . . "this s the key to the stables." Patt's face went blank . . then a sour, knowing expression melted across her features. "Dung duty?" "Well, put, Patski. Get to shoveling." "But I thought you got rid of all the camels . . ." Emma smiled. "We still have one . . . no one would take him because of his . . . habits. We think he has an intestinal problem." "Have you taken him to the vet?" "This is fanfic, Patt," Tracy Sue reminded the mature one. "Vet's aren't necessary. And, sometimes diarrhea can be useful as a plot device." "Only a faction leader with a character with a squirrel on her shoulder would think like that," Patt muttered. The Third Cousin, more than twice removed now, hoisted her bulk to an upright position and took the key from the VaqMommy's hand. With a heavy sigh, she trudged toward the back door. "Keep an eye on her," Tracy Sue instructed a few of the Vaqs. She narrowed her eyes at the departing ex-NA. "I still don't trust her." *********************** The stack of raked hay now measured well above the stable door. "Didn't you guys ever clean this place?" Patt complained as she pitched another fork full on the pile. "This is absolutely ridiculous." >From their perches on the railing, the five Vaqs grinned evilly. "We're slackers," Cliff reminded Patt. "Born to loaf." "Goldbricking is one thing," Patt replied as she picked up another scoop. "Not attending to hygiene needs is another. This is quite unhealthy, you know." Cliff sniffed his armpit, then looked back at the ex-addict and grinned. "I'm healthy enough." "Shovel the manure and not the verbiage,"Rae instructed the addict. "We have more chores lined up for you when you finish here." Patt stood up and glared at the Vaquera. "Wait a minute, jaw-buster. Additional task assignments were not on the *loyalty* agenda. If I had wanted to spend this war cleaning, I could have stayed at the Shrine." "The *chores* aren't all cleaning," Echo smirked. "Some you might actually appreciate." Patt did not like the sound of that at all. She frowned at the Vaqs. *PLFFT* *PLOP, plop, ploop* "Eyweeeeeoooooowwwwww," Patt cried out, her fingers immediately attached to her nose, compressing the nostrils. "Don't you guys know about Immodium ?" In response, the Vaqs laughed and the camel spit. ******************************* As fun as it was to razz the ex-NA, the Vaqs quickly tired of keeping watch over Patt. It was hot, and everyone knows that slacking is better done under air-conditioning. The worse that could happen would be that Patt got tired of Vaq abuse and split for the Shrine, and that really wouldn't be that big of loss, would it? But, the ex-cousin was determined. Besides, waxing motorcycles was rather soothing. Rubbing all that chrome, stroking the gear shaft . . . "You missed a spot." A masculine voice spoke from the shadows. "It's been over a week and I still can't get used to you guys being active in the daylight," Patt said without looking up. Vachon walked over and mounted one of the newly polished cycles near Patt. "Nice job," he said admiringly. "Real shiny." "Better set some rat traps," Patt said sarcastically. "Never know when a Ratpacker might happen by and try to steal them." Vachon shut his eyes a moment in contemplation. "Nope. Not on the schedule of events. Appreciate you and Bons posting that to the NA War loop, by the way." "I'm not NA anymore, Spaniard," Patt reminded him gruffly. "I switched factions. What's going on at NA HQ is not a concern anymore." "Just keep telling yourself that, Elmore," Vachon laughed. "You might actually begin to believe it." Patt looked up, her eyes suddenly moist. "You're going to be mean to me too? I thought we'd shared enough to be beyond that . . ." Vachon blinked. "You're not going to cry, are you? We don't cry in fanfic." "I think I cried at a pivotal moment last War," Patt countered with a sniff. "I don't remember . . . I've slept a couple of times since then." Vachon hopped off the cycle and came over to crouch beside the addict. "Crying is not in the script, girlie. At least in this arc it ain't." He reached out and gave the mature one's upper arm a quick squeeze. Patt was startled at the warmth of his touch. Instead of quelling her sniffles, she began to sob more heartily. "Now what?" Vachon said, rocking back on his heals in confusion. "I miss the old days!!" Patt suddenly wailed aloud. "I want consistency and character understanding." "Don't we all," Vachon replied, a far away look in his eyes. He focused back on the mature addict. "This is pretty tough on the vamps, too, you know. Try giving up flying. It sucks big time." "Try mental counseling a bunch of ex-vamp construction workers with attitude," Patt countered. "And feeding them, providing them shelter, keeping the addicts off of them . . ." "I get your point," the Spaniard said. Then he smiled. "What do you want, Patt?" The Vaq-NA blinked. "I . . . I don't know. I do know what I don't want, though. I don't want the responsibility of leadership, if just for a couple of days. I want to have fun, let someone else write the adventure." "And, you trust the Vaq's to do that?" Vachon said seriously. Patt nodded. "Tracy Sue kept quiet when I first discussed the defection with her back in July," the woman replied. "I figure I can trust her with my virtual self. And Felicia has been wonderful in her correspondences with me. Add that to the fact that she's a fellow Louisianan and I can't get into too much trouble, can I?" "Brave woman," the Spaniard grinned again. "What kind of adventure do you have in mind?" "Anything where I can wear leather." Patt brightened. Vachon reviewed the woman's ample frame. "I think we can handle the jacket, but will you settle for black spandex pants?" Patt shuddered violently. "Oh, gawd, Vachon. What torture! Okay . . . if I can have biker boots, it's a deal." "Done," Vachon smiled, helping the addict to her feet. He took the polishing cloth from her hand and tossed it aside. "Very slackerly thing to do," Patt nodded in approval. "Not bothering to put your stuff away properly." "You're learning, senorita," Vachon began guiding the woman back toward the church. "Vachon?" "Yes." "There is one thing that I'd like." "Yes?" "I'd really like to get Pectin in a headlock and do very non-PG-13 things to his body," Patt said earnestly. "You'll have to wait until you get back in control and write that scenario yourself," Vachon said adamantly. "If you don't have time to attend to your love life, what makes you think that Tracy Sue does?" Patt shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "Just a thought." "Well, think this. Why don't you phone the Pecster and invite him out for a drink? The worse that can happen is he'll turn you down, right?" "Rejection is not fun," Patt pointed out. "So, write that he responds positively," Vachon replied. "Which reminds me." "Of?" "Part of the deal for the Vaqs babysitting your body while you're away in RL." *groan* "Seven Vaqs get to take part in your traditional bar fight fiasco. Tracy Sue, Felicia, Melissa, Cliff, Echo and Emma." *groan* *groan* "You said seven." Vachon grinned mischievously. "And Rae. You remember, Rae, don't you?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. *GROAN* *GROAN* *GROAN* ************************** The end 02/02 patt79ad@juno.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JWOP-0007c2-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 02:18:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3626; Wed, 25 Aug 99 02:16:22 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0829; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 02:16:22 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:18:46 -0700 Reply-To: Debi McK Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Debi McK Subject: WAR: UF: Chili, Anyone? (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 821abd06728a6d7d934d9008f105a459 WAR: UF: Chili, Anyone? (1/3) Date: Tuesday 24 August, 7pm Authors: Debi McK, Susan Ellen Field, Dawn Clare, Fenris Filk by: Les GS Location: The Hive All victi... er, participants used with permission. "And she agreed?" Richard stared at Julia as if she'd told him she *liked* handcuffs. "You asked her... and she actually agreed?" Julia shrugged. "I jussht asked her if she wan'ned to come help judge. She asked if there wasssh coffee; I shaid yessh; she said yessh." She looked up at the circle of concerned faces which seemed to waver in front of her eyes, and smiled a little blearily. "It'sh alwaysh nice to have friendssh over..." "Les... how much Merlot has she had today?" Laurey whispered, staring at the strangely calm woman on the couch. Les gave Julia a light shove on the shoulder, watching as the dreaded cobra slid slowly sideways, rolled gently off the couch and landed in a happy heap on the rug. Several pairs of eyes followed her progress, then turned to Les who stood sadly shaking her head as she regarded her friend. Les slowly became aware that she was now the center of attention, and looked up at her companions with a sigh. She knelt down by the catatonic cobra and reached under the couch. She extracted an empty bottle, and stood it next to Julia's inert form. Then reached back under the couch... A few seconds later, the surrounding circle of Uffers were staring at the four empty wine bottles in dismay. "My kingdom for a Polaroid One-Shot camera," said Laurey, looking thoughtfully down at Julia. The now semi-conscious Cobra blinked sleepily at the row of empty bottles and reached out to take hold of one, clutching it and drawing it back to her. After a moment, she turned on her side, pillowed her head on the empty bottle and closed her eyes. Very faintly, the UFfers surrounding her could her her humming a distressingly cheerful, if rather off-note, little tune, which trailed off to a well-sedated purr, then silence. Laurey started to look worried. "You don't suppose she's had one visit too many with the salt lick today, along with polishing off all that Merlot? We really shouldn't let her fall asleep, you know. Think about what happened to Jimi Hendrix." Les snorted in amusement. "There's a lifelong aspiration fulfilled. I'm sure Julia always wanted to be listed alongside Jimi Hendrix in the history books. You have a point, though." She reached down and started trying to encourage the once-more catatonic War Cobra to rejoin the conscious, without much immediate success. "What are we going to do?" Becky gasped. "She's meant to be helping us to judge the Chili Cook-Off in ten minutes!" April giggled. "Well, we could always use her to find out how hot the chili is... if she reacts in that state, we can assume it's not safe to taste!" Les shrugged. "It would certainly solve the problem of trying to keep her awake..." The door opened to reveal Cousin Mary, who gave the assembled group a wary glance before stepping inside. The invitation had sounded innocent enough, but this was War, after all. Laurey and Les sidled in front of Julia, concealing her from the DP, as Becky stepped forward with a bright smile. "So glad you could make it! Come to the dining room, we're all set up for the judging, I'll get you a drink...." Richard slipped out, heading back to the kitchen. The remaining Uffers gave a collective sigh of relief as the DP was led from the room, and started discussing just how they were going to get Julia conscious again. Les looked down at her scarily tranquil friend and sighed. "Why wasn't she drinking coffee while she was plowing through the Merlot, anyway, like she usually does? She'd still be skunk-drunk, but at least she'd be awake." Laurey grimaced, looking rather guilty. "That's Tyb's fault, I'm afraid. Julia was drinking coffee in between bottles until she caught Tybalt with his head stuck in her coffee mug, taking a drink." "Ugh." "Yeah, well, the worst part of it is that Julia realized he'd probably been sneaking the odd sip here and there out of her mug for who knows how long before she caught him at it. She hasn't touched a drop of coffee since. First time I've seen Julia go the most of a day without coffee. But, boy howdy, she sure did make up the missing volume in Merlot." * * * * Two hours earlier.... *Crash!* *Thump* "OW!" "Um... Debi, you OK?" Dawn peered down at the chili-bedecked body struggling to extricate itself from the muddle of pots and vegetables on the floor. Debi removed a tomato skin from her left cheek and carefully stood up, ignoring the gentle 'splats' as various pieces of her recipe dripped onto the floor. Relieved at finding the bottle in one piece, she waved her beer at the wreckage around her. "Sorry. I'm fine. Just... ah... looking for... um..." She climbed back onto the kitchen countertop she had just fallen off, took a good swig from the bottle, and stuck her head back into the cupboard. "Bring... me.... two pina coladas.... la la la... one for each hand... la la ..." echoed hollowly around the kitchen. Dawn looked wryly at Richard and Susan. "What say we each clean up our *own* part of the kitchen after this?" She turned up the CD player to drown out the mangled song coming from the depths of the cupboard. Susan lifted a spoon from her saucepan and sniffed delicately at the contents before surveying the wreckage of a certain part of the kitchen. "I think we might have to redecorate, never mind cleaning up." Julia peered around the kitchen door. "What on earth was that crash?" she asked, coming into the kitchen and wincing at full-volume Garth Brooks. "Just Debi." Richard sighed, indicating the inebriated Uffer, still burrowing through the cupboard in search of who-knew-what. "Oh... okay," Julia looked doubtful, but let it pass. "I just came in for... ah... there it is." She pulled a box out from behind the door and opened the top, extracting a bottle. "Ran out of Merlot in the lounge. I knew there was another case somewhere. See you later!" She slipped out, closing the door on yet another verse of "Two Pina Coladas" with some relief. A few seconds later, the door opened again and Shan came in. "Hi Susan, I got you the fresh oregano you asked - ohmigod, what happened?" She looked at the kitchen in alarm. Dawn and Richard stood at a spotlessly-clean counter, chopping onions and measuring spices into a cup. Susan's area was similarly pristine, her preparations almost complete and her chili now nicely simmering. Debi, still shoulder-deep in the cupboard, was surrounded by smashed crockery, crushed vegetables, and looked like she'd stepped out of a slaughterhouse. "It's OK, Shan, it's just tomato." Susan frowned into the shopping bag Shan handed her. "Um.. where's the chocolate? I can't make chili without chocolate..." Shan shuddered and gave a sickly smile. "Would you believe they ran out?" "No." "Um.. well, then, would you believe that Laurey... um..." she backed toward the door "...paid me to 'forget' it because she's one of the judges and has to taste it and..." the rest of the sentence was lost in the slamming of the door and Susan's yell of outrage. "Duck!" Richard's voice echoed around the kitchen as he and Dawn dropped to their knees. Susan turned in time to see the cleaver Debi had just extracted from the cupboard sail over their heads and embed itself in the opposite wall. Two nervous faces peered up at the woman still deep in the cupboard. "Can I bite her, can I, please?" Richard put a placating hand on Dawn's shoulder as she toyed nervously with the small silk pouch hanging round her neck. "Now, dear, you promised not to put those in tonight. Remember what chili does to dental acrylic. You don't want to stain your fangs, leave them in the bag." Dawn started muttering but stood up and went back to chopping chilies. She'd had to take out her nice red contacts to chop the onions and fake fangs were just not scary in a bag. "I'm putting them in when Cousin Mary gets here, I will not pass up the opportunity to scare a DP." Richard nodded solemnly at the sulky expression and turned away to stifle a laugh. Cursing quietly Dawn reached for a bag of maize flour and a mixing bowl just as another crash issued from Debi's direction. Dawn's mumbling increased in volume. "Ebriosus, ineptus mulier! I need some water." Richard cast an indulgent look at his wife, ignoring the swift subject change, and handed her a cup of water. "It's not polite to insult people in dead languages dear." The comment was met with a grunt and a very dirty look. "If you can tell me what I said, I won't say it again." Dawn poked her tongue out and turned back to the mixing bowl. When Dawn's attention seemed to be firmly fixed on making tortillas Richard grabbed for the bottle of tequila, thinking no one was looking, and was promptly slapped on the back of the head. He turned toward Susan's grinning face and pouted. "What was that for?" "Dawn said if you tried to eat or drink the ingredients we should slap you. Just following orders!" She started to move away and then stopped as she caught sight of the pile of diced chili on the counter. Her eyebrows rose and her grin changed to a look of shock as she stared at the lethal looking mound of red and green. "How many chilies are you putting in that?! You'll kill somebody." Richard smiled and leaned closer. In a conspiratorial whisper he said, "I'll tell you our recipe if you tell us yours." "Everything OK in here?" Julia said brightly as she sailed through the door and reached for another bottle of Merlot. "Our guest should be here soon. Hope you're ready!" The four cooks looked at each other with some trepidation. "Guest??" ****** Debi was chopping onions, the very large knife flashing in the evening light as the others watched her with concern. Her hold on the knife looked rather tenuous, and it was moving *very* fast. Julia, who had just retrieved a third bottle of Merlot from the case, watched for a few seconds in some alarm before slipping out of the door to safety. "Tainted Love, lalala, Tainted Love..." Susan sang softly to herself as she stirred the chili. Bending over the pot, she sniffed at it, and tasted some with the large spoon. "I seem to have forgotten something!!" Snapping her fingers, she remembered. "I know!!" Checking the others were still watching Debi, she quietly bent down and retrieved from the bottom cabinet a can. It read "El Primo Supremo Tofu Dog Food, (for only the most refined tastes!)" Susan opened the can, and scooped the ingredients into the chili. Stirring it all around, it blended perfectly with all the other really strange things Susan had already put into her one of a kind "Sure to make you take a trip to the Emergency Room" Chili!!!!" "There!!! Now it's perfect!" Susan imagined someday people banging down her door for the secret recipe!! She quickly shut the cupboard door closed, lest everyone know her secret and make money off of it before she got the copyright. cont'd in part 2 __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JWPB-0007dJ-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 02:19:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3628; Wed, 25 Aug 99 02:17:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0855; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 02:17:14 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:19:38 -0700 Reply-To: Debi McK Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Debi McK Subject: WAR: UF: Chili, Anyone? (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f1372d976985e3e15e859c3e3593859a WAR: UF: Chili, Anyone? (2/3) Date: Tuesday 24 August, 7pm Authors: Debi McK, Susan Ellen Field, Dawn Clare, Fenris Filk by: Les GS Location: The Hive Everybody used with permission. "CD's finished." Richard looked up from the saucepan he was stirring. "So?" Dawn gave him her best sarcastic smile. "So, change it." "Why don't you do it?" Richard cringed at the look he got. Dawn was definitely in a sarcastic mood. "I'm trying to put in contact lenses without getting chili in my eyes, I'm kinda busy!" Richard huffed and stalked over to the CD player. "What did your last slave die of?" "Exhaustion. Put 'No Fences' on, would ya. 'Friends in Low Places' seems appropriate right now." Richard laughed and looked over to the ruined corner of the kitchen where Debi was putting the finishing touches to her chili. She was still dancing to the music that had stopped or possibly something that was playing in her head. She had had rather a lot of beer. Feeling someone watching her Debi turned slowly. her head felt a bit too heavy and her feet were definitely not cooperating. She took a moment to wonder what Richard found so funny and then turned to Dawn to ask what he was laughing at. She opened her mouth to ask but all she managed was a shocked 'Eeep!' Staring back at her over the top of dark glasses were a pair of very red eyes. Dawn smiled at the startled expression on Debi's face. Debi let out a sound that was somewhere between 'argh' and 'eek' and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Richard stopped laughing and strolled toward the heap of tomato covered woman. "Great, just great. I though you were going to scare DPs, not Uffers." Dawn smiled sheepishly, flashing long, gold fangs. "Test run?" Richard ran his hand over his face and looked to Susan for help. She didn't seem to have noticed anything that was going on and appeared to be talking to her chili. He grumbled loudly and crouched down to try and rouse the unconscious Debi. "Could I have a hand here?" He looked up at Dawn expectantly but wasn't surprised when she just walked over to the table and pulled out a chair. "Thanks." "Least I could do." Susan looked up from her chili just as Richard got Debi seated at the table. "What are you two arguing about now? Do you always go on like..." Her attention switched to Debi who was now slumped forward over the table. "Oh, what happened to Debi? What did you do?!" Susan looked accusingly at Dawn. "I didn't DO anything, exactly. I just smiled at her. Is it my fault she's too drunk to know the difference between a real vampire and a fake one. I mean, gold fangs are hardly convincing, you'd have to be pretty drunk to be that scared, right?" Dawn looked to Richard for backup, but he seemed to have decided on retreat and was just disappearing through the door with a bowl of guacamole and a plate of tortillas. Dawn shuffled her feet a bit as Susan put on her best stern look. A moment later a pained groan came from Debi's direction and the other two women gave in to amusement and, laughing, went back to stirring chili. Richard came barreling back through the door looking mildly panicked. "Show time ladies, the tasters have arrived!" * * * * * Richard, Dawn and Susan stood at the back of the dining room, watching the proceedings with acute interest. Debi was standing behind them, leaning against the wall and gradually taking more notice of the world around her as the effect of the alcohol began to wear off. Of course, the shock of turning around to find herself face-to-face with a red-eyed, gold-fanged Dawn had helped to sober her up considerably. Shan threw open the main doors to the dining room with a flourish, revealing the immaculately-laid banquet table with places set for five. Cousin Mary, as the visiting victi... er, guest, had the place of honor, and she was flanked by April and Becky. As all three took their seats, Laurey and Les entered, half-carrying Julia between them. She was holding an empty wine glass, and waved happily at everyone in the room as she slid into the fourth seat. "Ish it time for dinner? I'm ssshtarving!" she mumbled, peering into her glass. "And thirssshty." Les rolled her eyes and took the fifth chair. Laurey took up a post next to the four cooks, just behind Julia in case she decided the floor was a more attractive partner than the table and chair. Tybalt took up his customary scavenging position under the table, ready to nail any fumbled spoonfuls of chili before they reached the floor. Checking everyone was present, Shan disappeared into the kitchen. She reappeared a few moments later with a serving cart loaded with three huge bowls of steaming chili. "Everybody ready?" she asked cheerfully (after all, *she* didn't have to taste the stuff). "OK, here goes..." She carefully ladled a helping from one bowl onto the first five plates and handed one to each judge. "Well..." said April doubtfully, "It looks okay." She picked up her spoon and raised it to her mouth... "Stop!" yelled Susan. Four spoons dropped with a crash and every head swiveled to stare at her. "Um... don't you think you should let Julia try it first?" She shot a dark look at Dawn and Richard. "After all, one of those bowls might be a bit... spicy." Laurey caught the look. "Sounds like a good idea to me. Hey, Julia - try this!" She scooped up a spoonful of chili and offered it to her. Julia blinked owlishly at the spoon and tried to grasp it but missed completely. Laurey sighed. "Okay, Julia. Open up." She shoved the spoon in and waited. Julia chewed for a moment. "Hmmmm... nice. Merlot?" She waved her glass hopefully in Les's direction. "Later, Julia. All right, looks safe to me. Let's try it." Les dug in, followed by the other judges. Becky made a face. "Is it just me, or does it taste of... beer?" Dawn snickered. Debi turned to her and shrugged. "Hey, you can't make a chili without beer." "Yeah, but it is meant to have other ingredients too, you know," Richard muttered. "Hush!" Susan hissed. "Here comes the second bowl!" Shan collected up the plates and served up the second chili, which looked interestingly chunky. Julia's face fell as her dinner was taken away, but she brightened as another plate took its place. She made a valiant attempt at holding the spoon but relinquished it to Laurey after she dumped the first spoonful in her lap. Everyone watched as she swallowed the spoonful. She smiled. "Nice. Tasty. Merlot?" "Safe." announced April, and each taster took a bite. Silence reigned for a few seconds as an identical surprised look crept over the face of each judge. "Hey... this is *good*!" Mary said, taking another spoonful. "Really good." Les was eyeing the cooks doubtfully. *They* had produced *this*? "Merlot?" Julia asked plaintively. "After the next taste," Laurey promised. Shan removed the plates, prying fingers from some as the judges tried to finish their helping. Susan, Dawn and Richard exchanged a glance. Whose recipe was that? Shan served the chili from the third bowl, and Laurey scooped a spoonful up for Julia. Before the inebriated Uffer could open her mouth, the steam from the plate caught Laurey full in the face. She dropped the spoon and staggered back from the table, gasping for breath, her eyes streaming. "S... s... stings!" she managed to gasp out. The judges looked from her to their plates and carefully edged back from the table. Susan looked accusingly at Dawn. "I told you there were too many chilies in tha.... NO!" she yelled suddenly, leaping towards Julia. She was just too late. Finally mastering the technique of eating with cutlery, Julia had managed to get a spoonful of the concoction into her mouth. She smiled in triumph, swallowed the food, and reached for her glass. Her hand stopped mid-reach. A look of realization spread across her face, and her slightly glazed eyes snapped wide open in horror. There was a moment of absolute silence, then.... "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Julia's chair flew across the room as she leaped up, both hands clutched to her throat. She frantically ran around the table. "WATER! WATER! WA... AH!" She headed to the massive fireplace which dominated one wall of the room, and seized the beautiful, expensive flower arrangement from the mantel. Dumping the flowers on the floor, she upended the vase and began to drink. Cousin Mary had been backing steadily toward the door, unnoticed by all but one of the rooms' occupants. "Well, thank you for the invitation, it's been... um... interesting. What a shame I have to go, I need to get back to - " She had finally made it to the door and turned to leave when she found herself face-to-face with Dawn. "ACK!" Thump. The circle of Uffers looked down upon the leader of the DPs, who had fainted dead away, then several pairs of accusing eyes turned to Dawn. "What?" she asked innocently around her gleaming gold fangs, looking around at her faction-mates with glowing red eyes. Richard sighed. "Never mind. At least you're happy. Now, how do we get her conscious again?" cont'd in part 3 __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JWQT-0000KQ-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 02:20:49 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1426; Wed, 25 Aug 99 02:18:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0893; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 02:18:37 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:21:54 -0700 Reply-To: Debi McK Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Debi McK Subject: WAR: UF: Chili, Anyone? (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 86e4788853c71c049dcd8503d428f2c1 WAR: UF: Chili, Anyone? (3/3) Date: Tuesday 24 August, 7pm Authors: Debi McK, Susan Ellen Field, Dawn Clare, Fenris Filk by: Les GS Location: The Hive/DP Mansion Everyone used & abused with permission. "Get her some cold water." "Got an ice pack anywhere?" "Open a window, she needs fresh air." "Someone go and get...." "HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" Laurey suddenly yelled into the circle of concerned Uffers surrounding Mary, who was now propped in a chair at the kitchen table. She waited until all eyes were on her, then her face broke into an evil grin. "Haven't any of you realized what we've got here?" The group of Uffers looked at the unconscious DP. Group. Of Uffers. One. DP. An identical evil grin appeared on each and every face. Les thought for a moment. "Shan, I don't suppose you have any of that mehndi left, do you?" Shan's grin grew even wider. "As a matter of fact, I do." She slipped out of the room. "Mehndi?" Debi asked, confused. Not a rare condition for her. Les held up her hand, revealing the faint designs and lines on the back and wrist. "It's henna-based, takes a week or so to wear off. Shan showed it to me when we all arrived last week." She looked around speculatively. "So.... any of you fancy yourselves as artists?" Mary chose that moment to groan and lift her head. "Wha... happn'd?" "Heck!" Dawn darted over to the CD player and hit 'play'. The lively music of Garth Brooks echoed throughout the kitchen. Mary's face contorted in pain. "No! Please! Noooooo...." she slumped back down in a dead faint. Everyone turned to Dawn in amazement. She shrugged. "Debi told me Mary doesn't like Country music. Guess she was right!" * * * * * Susan came back for the third time to get more chili for the hungry crowd. The rest of the Uffers had crowded into the dining room after the official Chili Cook-Off, and she could not believe that so many had given her compliments on the unusual and "unique' taste it had! Of course there was April, who after sampling some had a strange urge to bark when a stranger approached her table, but all in all, it was a complete success. Only one person left to try it on. Just at that moment, Shan walked in, carefully peeling off mehndi-coated latex gloves and humming 'Friends in Low Places'. "Hey Shan, you better have some of this before it's all gone!" "You're kidding, right? Me eat YOUR cooking?" "Well, suit yourself! Gotta hurry out, I'm getting requests all over the place for this stuff!" Susan left. Shan had seen the wonderful reaction that Susan's chili had gotten. She absolutely would never give her the satisfaction of seeing her eat it, however... Shan looked around the room. "Hmmmmm! No one around," she thought to herself. She reached in the silverware drawer and pulled out a tablespoon. She slowly lifted the lid off the pot on the stove. Shan had to admit, the aroma was delicious!! "Susan must be actually learning to cook!" she thought, dipping the spoon into the chili. She brought it up to her mouth, and tasted it. "WOW!! That's actually great!!" she thought. "There seems to be a special something in there that I've never tasted before. Wonder what it could be?" Just at that moment, Shan saw Susan returning. She quickly replaced the chili-pot cover and sat on a kitchen chair pretending to read a cookbook. "Just came back for a few more bowls, can't keep up with the requests!!" Susan looked for the bowls and saw that the only ones were higher than she could reach. "Shan? would you mind?" "Sure Susan, I'll "FETCH" them for you!!" Susan cringed, then plastered a smile back on her face as Shan handed her the bowls. "Thanks. Good girl, Shan." Heading back into the dining room, she deposited the bowls and was immediately accosted by Les. "Here, Susan - ready, everyone?" Suddenly she was assailed by noise as every Uffer present broke into song. Loud, loud song. She peered at the paper Les had shoved in her hand, grinned happily at the title - "Nicky Sticky Heart", and bellowed along with the rest of them: You can tell the sky you never were my guy. You can hand me that watch and then run. Or you can tell your friends just what a jerk I've been For stealing your life in the Sun. Or You can tell my fangs that you just don't give a dang. You can send me flying out the door. But where you tune your radio tells me all I need to know, That you like me, yeah, even when you're sore. But don't stake my heart, my Nicky sticky heart. I just don't think he'd understand. And if you stake my heart, my Nicky sticky heart You just might irritate this man. You can tell Janette you wished we'd never met And agreed to come along and play. Or tell your doctor Nat I've been a dirty rat. And you never really liked me anyway. And Go ahead and tease, tell me anything you please, I'm just not hearing what you say. You'll always be my knight, my son and delight, And never, ever see the light of day. But don't stake my heart, my Nicky sticky heart. I just don't think he'd understand. And if you stake my heart, my Nicky sticky heart You just might irritate this man. The words trailed off as the entire room erupted in whoops and fits of giggles. * * * * * Several hours (and three Garth CD's) later, a sleek silver Porsche with a small trailer crept stealthily through the streets. Stopping outside a large mansion, four figures emerged and quietly moved around to the trailer. With several nervous glances at the dark windows of the house, the figures set to work unloading a strangely-shaped bundle from the trailer, whispering amongst themselves. "Okay... up to the house with her. We'll dump her on the steps, ring the bell and run." "Shan, grab her legs!" "Laurey, hold her there... no, there, oh heck..." Thud. "Uuuurrrrgh...." "Quick! She's waking up!" If anyone had been passing by, they would no doubt have been concerned by the fact that one of the five women in the road seemed to be unconscious. They may have frowned at her strange garb: cowboy hat, fringed shirt, large gold-colored belt buckle, blue jeans and cowboy boots. And they may have cringed at the large "GARTH FOREVER" apparently tattooed onto her left arm and "GARTH #1 FAN" on her right. However, the thing that may have caused them to call for assistance was the fact that the four women were singing "We Shall Be Free" in stage whispers to their unconscious friend. It was fortunate that nobody, in fact, was passing by. * * * * * The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ -Nicky Sticky Heart -A filk of Acky Breaky Heart, the original tune and words by Don Von Tress. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JXY8-0006Jh-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 03:32:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5191; Wed, 25 Aug 99 03:30:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3344; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 03:30:36 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 16:32:18 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: Welcome to the BBQ (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2475d73953ed122d8b89c58067aac7ca ============================== War: Enforcers: Welcome to the BBQ (1/1) By Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) Fellow Enforcers used with permission Time: Wednesday the 25th. Morning. Around 9am Getting ready for the BBQ ============================== The black and white marble of the Blackwood Arms hotel was beautiful in the sunlight. That was the shadowman's first thought. He'd seen it before, many times as it was one of the stopping points for vampires moving through Toronto. Frequently, the vampires they were looking for in Toronto were right here, in their snug little rooms, dreaming of centuries and decades before. It was like catching fish in a bucket. But, he was not here to kill, not here to warn, he was here to party. Such an unusual occasion for him. His troops, his crew, his enforcers, were having a barbecue for all the factions. He'd expected them to pelt the other factions with Nair , to throw waterballoons at them, or any other such mischief. To his complete surprise, they were planning none of this. They just wanted to party, and thank the factions for not being too hard on them their first time. The Captain, Raven, was fully recovered from the episode at the TV studio. She and a few other members had been turned neon green by Dolticus. The cursing that had followed as they flowed back into HQ had stiffened even *his* hair. All was forgiven, apparently, or they were planning something he didn't know about. Probably the latter. He made sure to remind her, once she was calm, that there was always the next war. Either way, it was going to be a quiet barbecue. They were on the roof of the Blackwood Arms, the pool and jacuzzi were ready. In the barbecue pit, Steve was readying the hamburgers and hotdogs for the grill. Captain Raven was in a makeshift kitchen near the roof door. She was busy making macaroni salad and corn on the cob. Kim was helping by readying the chicken for the grill in tin foil packets. There was so much food, shadowman was glad they'd bought a second grill. They were the big grills too, the kind that could fit 5 big T-bone steaks on each of two tiers. Shadowman sighed. T-bones. There were definitely some good things about being mortal, but the pain and the hassles made it not worth it. He hoped he'd find a way back to vampirism. He knew if he had to, he could call in some friends from Chicago to do the deed, then he decided to just wait for the war to end first. Besides, he liked the food. Thinking of T-bones, he stopped Enid as she was rushing to the makeshift kitchen. "Lieutenant, did we get T-bones?" he asked her hopefully. "Uh, no sir. I'm sorry, do you want me to go get some...it's just down the street," Enid stuttered. She was not used to the shadowman asking about food. "No, Lieutenant, it's okay. I...I've just heard so much about them," he sighed whistfully. Enid hesitated, then went back to the kitchen. There was so much to do before everyone got here. --- Shadowman reclined in one of the many lounge chairs set up for the factions members to sunbathe on. There were so many things to do, but for once, he didn't help, didn't get in the way, and they didn't mind. They seemed to be quite happy to just prepare the party. It isn't as if he hadn't offered, he had, but they'd refused. So much for chivalry. He opened his eyes a crack and saw Enid, who had finished helping Raven in the makeshift kitchen, and was now busy hanging paper lanterns around the roof for when night fell. Jen was struggling with further decorations on the fence that blocked them from falling off the side. Quite a trick since it was 7 feet high to her 5'8". He was a few inches taller than her. He'd help her in a minute. Near the pool, Taryn and Amber were setting up the DJ booth. He could hear them vaguely arguing about what song to play first. They weren't arguing loudly, just vehemently. He could see they were going to have fun tonight. Kat was setting the tables up, carefully taping the paper tablecloths to the tables so the wind wouldn't blow it away. Tupperware containers of plastic forks, spoons, knives, and napkins sat with small pieces of concrete blocks holding them down. She wasn't taking any chances. Maria and Kadira came in then with a dolly of soda. They put it down near the small child's pool they were using for a cooler and went back for the ice. The roof door opened and the hired bartender, Jake, appeared. He was a relatively good looking guy, with sandy brown hair, and medium build. He looked the place over, then went back down to get his portable bar and liquor. It was definitely going to be a fun night. The shadowman looked back over and saw Jen, still struggling and decided to help. After all, nobody appreciates you if you don't help. He laughed to himself. There was a time appreciation wouldn't have mattered. Now, somehow, it did. Maybe this mortal thing was a good experience for him after all. ====================== Evil Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JZ2E-0003bk-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 05:07:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4004; Wed, 25 Aug 99 05:05:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6860; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 05:05:49 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 02:13:27 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR: Nothers/Mercs: A Nother Time, a Nother Place (01/03) X-cc: fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com, luckyliz@mindspring.com, Psistriker@worldnet.att.net To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e74d5a84881a8dd7bb6b7dac1868a044 This story takes place concurrently with Conversion Day 1999 and follows "A Nother Excuse to Paaaarrrr-ty!" All real people used by permission--Daf is the joint property of the Nothers. Title: A Nother Time, Another Place (01/03) by NightDancer, Fleurette, and Liz the Lucky NA Shrine Shortly after 6:00 PM Well, one thing s certain, NightDancer commented as the six Nothers (and one stableboy) entered the NA Shrine. It looks different than it did the last time we were here. Well, of course not, silly, Fleurette pointed out. She had opted for the preferred toga, a royal blue one trimmed in peach (the same colors she had used in her wedding), clasped at the shoulder with a golden rose. The Vaqueras were running things then! Dancer was wearing an outfit she d borrowed from Liz, a Renaissance wench costume. It had a full scarlet blouse worn off-the shoulder under a tightly-laced bodice embroidered in red, gold and green, out of which her usually downplayed cleavage was loudly calling attention to itself. The two skirts also matched the bodice, as the underskirt was the same deep green, and the overskirt a bright gold. The outfit was completed with a belt made of three braided scarves in the same colors, a little brown cap and black leather mocassin-boots to add the final touch Only the bright red backpack she was also wearing spoiled the effect. (on Liz s advice, she had transferred the contents of the garment bag into the backpack while they were on their way to the Shrine, since it was easier to carry.) The rest of the faction represented an assortment of eras. Jeanne was also wearing a toga, like her daughter s only cream-colored with gold trim and a jade clasp, and Elladara was dressed in Renaissance garb like Dancer s, with the added touch of a silver cross on a chain. Liz, Kat and Daf had chosen to attend as specific characters instead of just random representatives of a particular era. Liz was garbed as her character, Elaine, in an off-the-shoulder 1880s-style gown that she was tightly corseted into, revealing an even more attention-grabbing decolletage than NightDancer s. The skirt was black and full and fell to the floor trimmed with blue lace and with an overskirt gathered into a bustle in the back which then fell into a long train. She was also wearing long gloves, a ribbon choker, a blonde wig styled into an elaborate bun accented with flowers, and blue contacts instead of her glasses. As the crowning touch, she carried a lace fan. Kat s outfit, by contrast, looked a bit like something out of Robin Hood or Red Sonja, at least in NightDancer's opinion. She was dressed as her character, Aria Andraven, in a brown leather jerkin, breeches and boots, all with purple leather tooling. Under the jerkin she wore a natural-colored shirt with brown bracers on both arms. A broadsword was harnessed to her back with the hilt showing over the right shoulder, and her hair was woven into a tight braid. But, like NightDancer, there was one anachronism in the outfit--in this case, her glasses. Daf, appropriately, was costumed as his lookalike from Highlander, Richie, only in a very nice 1880s-style suit to match his escorts instead of contemporary wear. I m not really sure I should have come to this, Elladara commented thoughtfully. I not terribly keen on the possibility of bumping into LaCroix. That s okay, Dancer grinned. I m not either, so you and I can avoid him together. Their leader shook her head, amused. Well, you ladies--and Daf--do whatever you like. I think I m going to go hang out with my fellow Addicts, since I haven t had much chance to spend time with them this war. Have fun! Liz called cheerfully after Fleurette and Jeanne as the two made their way towards where several NA members were sipping roman candles. Ooohh....cheesesticks! Dancer s nose whipped her around as a waiter passed bearing a tray of hors d ouerves. That particular delicacy was one of her favorites, and she d heard delightful rumors about Bonnie s in particular. When she finally caught up with the travelling tray, she turned with a handfull of cheesesticks to find Elladara at her elbow. Oh, Hi Dara, she remarked, surprised. Would you like some? She extended a cheesestick. The other woman shook her head and pointed back in the direction they had come from. No, just avoiding. Dancer followed her eyes and quickly spotted LaCroix moving through the partygoers. Oh, I see. Still, you should try one of these--they re really good. Smiling, Elladara took a cheesestick from her and the two Nothers wove their way through the crowds to find a place to sit. They weren t seated for more than a few minutes when NightDancer began to squirm. You know, she remarked ruefully. As much as I like this outfit, it s getting a bit uncomfortable. I think Daf pulled too hard on the bodice. Elladara chuckled into the glass of water she d managed to snag. Yeah, I know, I can t really blame him, Dancer grinned wickedly. Still, I think I may go find him and ask him to help me *undo* it. This with another evil smile. Will you be okay? Sure, go right ahead. I ll be here when you get back, probably. Unless LaCroix wanders this way. It didn t take Dancer long to track down the intrepid trio, and she slipped in beside them with a sly grin and bent to whisper in Daf s ear. He turned a delightful (and by now well-practiced) shade of scarlet and nodded. Turning back to the other two, he cleared his throat. Ladies, if you will excuse me for a moment? Kat laughed. Changing already, Dancer? The other girl shrugged. This bodice was getting a little tight. It s supposed to be tight, Liz retorted with a smile. I think you just want an excuse to have Daf undress you. Only partially! Dancer corrected her quickly. This is a PG-13 war, remember? She flashed them her best innocent look. And I don t do smut anyways. Yeah, yeah. They looked very unconvinced. Dancer just gave them a dismissive wave as she hauled Daf away, then snagged a passing waiter to inquire about the location of the restroom. Upon receiving an answer she disappeared in that direction, with the stableboy following. When she emerged a few moments later she was wearing a long flowing Renaissance noblewoman s gown in a rich, blood-red velvet with a gold lam e panel and black lace trim, the shortness of her hair hidden by a long veil the same color as the dress. For contrast, she was also wearing a floor-length emerald-green velvet cloak, which, for the time being, hid the backpack containing her other costume choices. And since this is fanfic, it *didn t* make her look like a hunchback. Daf was waiting for her outside the restroom--in keeping with the rating of the war, she had chased him out after they got the bodice unlaced. He smiled as she dropped a curtsey. You look wonderful, Dancer, he told her sincerely. Aw, I bet you say that to all the girls, she teased. He blushed again. Well, yes, but at least I never say it without meaning it! Dancer laughed. Oh, go on, get back to Liz and Kat. They ll be lost without a third of their costume. All right. Oh, and Daf-- He turned back to her and she smiled an uncharacteristically shy smile. Thank you...for your help. Daf grinned, gave her a light peck on the cheek, then hurried away. To Be Continued... (01/03) _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:43 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JZd4-0001TG-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 05:46:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5447; Wed, 25 Aug 99 05:43:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8116; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 05:43:51 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 05:46:35 -0400 Reply-To: Kim Kocak Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kim Kocak Organization: Prodigy Internet Subject: War:Enforcers:Will the Real Shadowman, please stand up? (1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1f9ae77960489aaefa222a9969c5f0fc Will the Real Shadowman, please stand up? (1/1) By Kim Kocak When: After To Welcome to BBQ While Kim was preparing the chicken, she overheard Shadowman asking for a T-Bone. Chuckling to herself, Kim's nickname for Shadowman during the war the Human Garbage Disposal. Man, for an ex-vamp he surely can eat! Becoming mortal, he experimented with all kinds of foods and drinks. 'If he don't turn back soon, he will have to go on a diet' thought Kim. Apparently, she wasn't the only one thinking the same thoughts. Other Enforcers showed the same concern for Shadowman's *appetite*. The expense for food alone cost the Enforcers more then they bargain for and Enid estimated that Shadowman's appetite can feed an army and then some. Kim was still thinking about the war when another of Shadowman's surprises shocked Kim Seeing Jen struggling with the decorations he went over to help. *Helped* That's it!!! Something must be done. In all the years, that Kim knew the Shadowman, this was the first time he helped anyone. She wished she had a camera to take this memorial event or maybe not. A 5'8" Enforcer next to a 7' was too much for Kim to bare especially if the Enforcer was Jen. And poor Jen. She was so shocked by Shadowman's helpfulness that she almost fell off the ladder. He even helped Enid with the streamers and the lanterns and paid her a compliment. Enid gave the Shadowman a *what do you want* expression. It seems that he wanted to be helpful was too much for the Enforcers to handle. Seeing Maria and Kadira, Kim walked over to them. " I need a drink and make it a double" Both Maria and Kadira was getting both the liquor and soda ready for the party while Kat was setting up the tables. "Here you go. And did you noticed something odd about Shadowman?" whispered Maria. Like many of the Enforcers, she was unable to comprehend the fact that he was mortal. "There is something wrong with him, no" replied Kadria. "*Wrong* is the not the word for it" replied a very frustrated Steve."I had to push him away from the hamburgers!" "What's even worst, he wants to listened to music like 'My Heart will go On' and 'Immorality'" explained both Taryn and Amber. Both of them were going to be DJs for the BBQ party and testing the system when Shadowman asked if they do request. "That's it! Where is the Captain?" Steve said. "The Captain is in the kitchen making her *famous* macaroni salad" replied Enid. With that the Enforcers matched to the kitchen. If anyone can help it would be the boss. Meanwhile, Raven was at the kitchen preparing for the upcoming event. Everything had to be perfect. To thank the other factions for being understanding and not complaining and being supportive to the Enforcers Yes everything had to be perfect. Tomorrow is another day...... "OK, what gives with the Shadowman" explained everyone all at once. . Raven almost dropped her macaroni salad. "Don't do that and what's the problem" "The *problem* is with Shadowman. There is something wrong with him" explained Steve. "He is not his normal self. Would you or can you talk to him, please" Everyone asked. "I will" replied Raven "But right now, I want to get things ready for the party. So scram" The rest of the Enforcers left Raven alone in the kitchen. Watching them, she knew about the problem and so did Shadowman . The problem is that the rest didn't know, but she did. ________________________ Shadowman overheard everything, He may be mortal, but his hearing was still sharp. Lounging by the pool, shadowman closed his eyes. Something in the air yes!!! He *knew* but couldn't tell the rest. The only mortal he trusted was the Captain so he told her. A few more days, just a few more days! Until then, he wanted to experience everything. The warmth of the sun, hamburgers, chicken, Pepsi, coffee.everything. The Enforcers thought that he lost his mischief self. Well, he didn't. What they don't know that sometimes being *nice* can be a mischief all of it's own. Laughing to himself , he went to the pool and dived right in. The one thing that he learned throughout the centuries was sometimes do nothing is the best revenge. From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTTl-0006jO-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:12:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3910; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:06:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4957; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:06:01 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:03:38 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Julia Kocich Subject: Re: War question To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 93aa5c1b69d189f4fa1c4bb1801dcdd0 In a message dated 99-08-24 08:04:26 EDT, Questinc@AOL.COM writes: > > How long is the FKFIC-L war supposed to last? > > I lost the paperwork that had the ending date. > Um ... like much of the current War, the answer is ... murky. The Premise is supposed to come to a conclusion midnight Thurs/Fri. But ... we are not being put out of our misery, it seems, until that weekend. If anybody is in a position to explain this, clearly, I'd be eternally grateful. Best, Julia JKocich@aol.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JTwm-0002Rb-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:42:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2807; Tue, 24 Aug 99 23:37:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8224; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:37:08 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 23:39:17 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: Re: War question To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6c682c1fe35954ba19497637d6eeee37 At 11:03 PM 8/24/99 EDT, Julia responded to Ron's question about the War ending date: >But ... we are not being put out of our misery, it seems, until that >weekend. >If anybody is in a position to explain this, clearly, I'd be eternally >grateful. Let me stand up and take the blame -- at least part of it, anyway. In tribute to MacHeather's upcoming RL nuptials, we're (Heather and I and anyone else interested in writing to it) are running a thread in which Heather's RL fiance decides to win his wife the traditional old Celtic way -- by kidnapping her. (While the lead-up posts are still in production, the actual kidnapping post should drop sometime soon.) The NA plotline required Heather to be present for Conversion Day, so she couldn't be kidnapped before then. For the kidnapping to work, though, we needed some time for Heather to be *missed* by both the Glow Worms and the NA. Because of the nature of a War (put all the toys neatly back on the shelves before you go home), we need to resolve this plotline at the end of the War. The problems with concluding the storyline the last day of the War (besides the brevity of the kidnapping) were (1) that it could have run afoul of the main storyline's ending and (2) with everyone caught up in the main storyline ending and in trying to escape town the second the storyline's concluded, I feared we might not have anyone around to come and party with us when Heather is returned. So I asked the Warlock for guidance on the matter. The extension is what the War Council, in discussion with the list administrators and faction leaders, came up with. Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JV0V-0004nv-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 00:49:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3185; Wed, 25 Aug 99 00:47:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4104; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 00:47:47 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 00:02:47 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Julia Kocich Subject: Re: WAR: Admin: War End Extension X-To: fkwarlock@hotmail.com, mclisa@mindspring.com, fkwar10leaders@onelist.com To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 61e7be1e1c1ef78f1f60f36608e2b4f0 The Listowner posted an announcement that the War had been extended through this weekend. Since an FK War comes with a Premise, the *assumption* was that the Premise would, naturally, be extended as well. Several factions took Lisa at her word, as we always do , and we planned to move a complex series of posts into the weekend that had just been handed us. Now, after believing what we had been told by the Listowner, we are presented with something else entirely. The War *Premise* will end, but ... the War will go on, with the vamps as vamps. That makes NO sense whatsoever, and it's at complete odds with what we originally understood, and what we have planned for. Why cannot the Premise end, as it traditionally does, with the end of the War? What IS this mysterious event that seems to be the only reason for the War being extended? I have felt blind during most of this particular War. But now I feel well and truly blindsided. Dispiritedly, Julia JKocich@aol.com From - Wed Aug 25 05:54:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JVef-0005lO-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:31:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1228; Wed, 25 Aug 99 01:29:15 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7375; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 01:29:15 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 00:31:09 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Margie Hammet Subject: Re: WAR: Admin: War End Extension To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 531bfa4dfae784bada3e4e3d1021353f At 12:02 AM 8/25/99 EDT, Julia Kocich wrote: >The War *Premise* will end, but the War will go on, with the vamps as vamps. >That makes NO sense whatsoever, and it's at complete odds with what we >originally understood, and what we have planned for. Why cannot the Premise >end, as it traditionally does, with the end of the War? I gotta go with Julia on this one. Extending the war so that one faction can have a specific event is all well and good, but that event has nothing to do with the war. So, if the war is being extended, why not extend the war premise too? It's not a big deal. Just say the full moon is going to appear a few days after it was originally expected to. Unless I totally misunderstand astronomy, you can't have a full moon and then two weeks later have another full moon anyway. So, if we're going to have an impossible event, why not just have it happen a few days later? Maybe someone notices the moon has done something strange, like skipped a phase, and can forecast when the full moon will be based on what the moon is doing now. (BTW, I have begun to believe that no technical problem is beyond me, as long as reality is not involved. ) Bring 'em back alive! Margie (treeleaf@io.com) Cousin of the Knight ~ N&NPacker Kickstart the Knight!: http://jessica.simplenet.com/ktk From - Wed Aug 25 17:57:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jd8t-0000ew-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 09:31:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6740; Wed, 25 Aug 99 09:28:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6251; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 09:28:56 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 09:30:33 EDT Reply-To: Nsvestal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Clevenger Subject: WAR:NA-Wheels on Fire (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e1f99078fd634885a105c7406ad193de My most abject apologies for forgetting to put WAR in the header..I grovel for forgiveness at McLisa's feet.. Sukh ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NA: Wheels on Fire By Lady Sukh C-Day late Monday, August 23rd, 1999 the chariot race All people used with permission. Roy is mine, all mine I tell you! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sukh and MacCousin finished the final touches on the NA entry. They'd had Roy, Roy the Buff Slave Boy up most of the night polishing the gold covered chariot. The gold hammered Nunkies in Repose was gleaming in the light of the stable courtyard. The wooden wheels were covered with hammered gold, and wicked looking speartips were adorning each hub. The interior of the chariot had padded velvet, in just the right shade of blush, for the driver and one passenger to strap into the vehicle. Sukh had donned her finest Not So Vestal breastplate and Boyd Plaid toga. MacCousin had on her matching breastplate and her McIntyre plaid Toga, along with her spear. Sukh had decided to leave her spear in her room, as it was really hard to drive a four horse rig and brandish a spear at the same time. Roy, Roy, their Buff Slave Boy was dressed in a small white Roman kilt, and matching gold wide belt, and some nice pectoral and wrist bracelets. "Maybe we should oil him down," MacCousin suggested with a leer. "I don't think you should be near that much prime male flesh this close to your wedding." Sukh shook her head as she checked all the last minute fastenings and gold plated buckles of the white leather horse harness. "Spoilsport," MacCousin grumbled as she finished putting the black hoof polish on the last horse. First thing this morning they had started polishing LaCroix's four black Friesians to a high ebony gloss. Their manes had been braided into a very nice French braid, adorned with small white rosettes. Their hooves were polished, and their gold nose and headbands were reflecting the afternoon sun. They danced in the harnesses, eager for a good run. White plumes danced over their heads, bobbing as they pulled at the bit. Sukh handed the four leads to Roy and MacCousin. "Lead them to the street and I'll take it from there." Roy, nodded his auburn head and waited for Sukh to lash herself into the chariot. He and the other Addict lead the restless animals to the side street and watched as Sukh took the reins. "All right, let'em loose. Then hop on." She tightened the reins as Roy unhooked the leads and scurried to the back to strap himself behind her, in the passenger belts. The MacCousin waved her spear. "See you at the starting line!" she took off to the event area "Chariot race ho!" Sukh clucked to the Black horses and urged them into a collected trot, the blue black feathers on their forelocks dancing at the high knee action. Sukh wheeled her chariot towards the rest of the field at a nice showy trot. Roy handed her a pair a dark sunglasses and donned his pair. She waved at the NA's cheering. The MacCousin brandished her spear and gave an impressive Xena type warrior yell. Soon the entire NA area was giving a full throated war cry. Sukh grinned and waved at them, then looked up to see Nunkies holding a daisy covered toga. As the toga dropped, a half dozen cat sized pink rats scurried under the chariot. The Friesians reared and took off running with the rest of the panicked field. "YeeHaw!" She yelled as the team surged up Queen Street and careened around a minivan. The wind whipped her hair in front of her face as she leaned over the lip of the chariot. She tightened the reins, trying to gain some control for a tight corner, only to have them scrape against a metal hydrant. The wheels sparked, and the hydrant spumed like old faithful. They took the corner on one wheel and narrowly missed a group of Japanese tourists. The tour group turned and snapped a picture of the NA chariot as it shot by, and Sukh shouted her own war cry. Maybe racing hell bent for leather through rush hour Toronto wasn't so bad. She grinned maniacally as she urged the horses past the Raven. They swept through a pile of flyers, and the papers stuck to the wide chest of Roy, Roy the Buff Slave Boy as well as some getting speared by the wheelhub spearheads. "Lady Sukh?" Roy yelled at her as he peeled the flyers off his body. "What?" "The left wheel is smoking" "Kewl." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ From - Wed Aug 25 17:57:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JgYh-00068d-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:10:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9668; Wed, 25 Aug 99 13:05:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3264; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:05:11 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:06:55 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: War: Enforcers: Boogie at Blackwood 1/? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2ded6f61d2ad5711fbbd4dc12fb08dec War: Enforcers: Boogie at Blackwood 1/? Written by: Enid Rodriguez (Supply Lieutenant of The Enforcers) Place: Enforcer BBQ and pool party on the rooftop of the Blackwood Arms. Time: Around 10am, Wednesday. August 25, 1999. Fellow enforcers and Shadowman used with permission. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------- The Shadowman floated on his back, staring out into the sunny sky. He felt his now mortal eyes slightly sting. As a vampire he never noticed the chlorine in the hotel's pool. He didn't really mind though. He closed his eyes and focused on the birds chirping. The bliss was broken when the pack of his enforcers came back from their little meeting in the kitchen. They all stopped and gaped openly at the head enforcer, who was now swimming nude towards them. "Omigosh.." Kat giggled, never seeing their leader so uncovered before. "Why don't we all take a little dip before the other factions get here?" The Shadowman suggested with a grin. "All our bathing suits are in my suite."Enid said. There was a pause, and then the Shadowman shrugged his shoulders "So?" he quipped. Enid's mouth dropped open in shock, "You mean skinny dip?" she questioned with a horrified whisper. The group exchanged glances, all were dumbfounded. "I'm sorry Sir, but, we still have some things to do before everyone gets here." Raven told him, quite a-matter-a-factly. (PG war ladies and gents) The Shadowman nodded and returned to his floating. "I think I'll get our suits for later." Enid said, desperate to get out of there.The light smell of the grill filled the air, the morning sun reflected against the water. It was lovely. Raven quickly made sure they had all the fruit they needed for the flavored virgin and not so virgin Pina Coladas. Raven looked around the roof, and then at the Shadowman who was now attempting a underwater handstand. She quickly looked away and checked her watch, "OK, folks we've haven't got much time until they get here. Let's get this place primed to boogie!" From - Wed Aug 25 17:57:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JgaW-0002jQ-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:11:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7565; Wed, 25 Aug 99 13:02:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3000; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:02:41 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:03:04 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: war: Timing problem resolution to be announced To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8e86cea9c50183d24f04e68722e840af Just one thing: for those whose plots need a revamped vampire, I've got a solution in the works. More after it's worke out. I just want you to know that this is now being taken into account. Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Wed Aug 25 17:58:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jhv3-0005g4-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 14:37:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6657; Wed, 25 Aug 99 14:30:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6723; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 14:30:47 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:23:48 -0500 Reply-To: "Christella M. Stillman" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Christella M. Stillman" Subject: WAR: NA: Ruminations (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3ef170077f1251db25fdefe38eb4e778 Title: Ruminations (1/1) Author: Christy Stillman Time: During Conversion Day 1999 Evening Festivities Notes: Dee and Glennis used with their permission. In tribute to the sacredness of Conversion Day, Christy had foregone the wearing of her mouse ears this evening. A certain addictly leader's threat of a hot waxing had absolutely nothing to do with her decision on this point...nothing at all...really. Besides, the goose egg on the back of her head from her tumble in the 5K earlier made wearing the beanie a painful proposition. So, she had merrily donned her toga--her very first toga, lovingly designed and sewn for the occasion--and gone to the party. She was quite fond of her toga, a chiffon confection in an ivory just a shade or two darker than her pale skin. Hand-embroidered golden lyres marched around the neckline and hem of the garment, an indication of her love for music. The darn thing kept falling off one shoulder or the other, though. She tugged at the neckline in frustration. Dinner had gone well, as well as the entertainment. She was incredibly proud of the other two-thirds of the Three Nunketeers. Dee had danced her little heart out for Nunkies and had even managed to lean backwards over him to come as close as possible to her greatest weakness--his neck. Glennis' voice was heavenly, and the filks...well, sometimes a little wickedness was just what a party needed. She smiled to herself, remembering the glazed looks on her fellow addicts' faces as they told her of their close encounters with the Man of the Hour. Breathed-upon earlobes and kissed hands would forever be treasured (and not soon washed, Christy suspected). Luckily, addict costumes were generally made of quick-drying materials, so the drool stains wouldn't be on her friends' outfits *all* evening. Though normally ebulient around her NA sisters and brother, the Southerner tended to be more subdued, if not downright shy, in a crowd. And there *was* a crowd. So many factions, so many people--mortal and once-immortal--had joined NA in their enthusiastic celebration of Conversion Day. It was heartwarming to see the factions come together in one place, taking a break from the serious silliness of the War to greet old friends and make new ones. Overcome by the press of humanity around her, she chose to find a quiet leaning spot against one of the pillars to pursue one of her favorite activities--people watching. From - Wed Aug 25 17:58:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JjcU-0003ZU-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 16:26:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9545; Wed, 25 Aug 99 16:23:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3516; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 16:23:40 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 16:25:34 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: The Green-Eyed Monster, Take One To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c8f0ad5905004a7e0443ba86d0779ee3 WAR: Independent/CGW: The Green-Eyed Monster, Take One: Showers are for Sloshing by Brenda Bell Follows: Getting Back Chris is real and is used by permission. Siobhan, Father Andrew, and Al' Jack Kerrigan belong to the Fiendish Glow. "O, Bonnie Lass!" was written by Brenda Bell in 1998; it is sung to the Londonderry Air (aka "Danny Boy") ***** The Fiendish Glow pub, Friday August 20th, about 2030 Eastern Daylight Time Chris slammed the empty glass down on the mahogany bar in the unmistakable manner of someone looking for a refill, bent on getting drunk. "That's yer third in as maeny hours," Siobhan told him, wary about providing the requested refresher. The GlowWorm adjunct removed a red and white banknote from his sporran. "I's no' as if I cudna pay fer it," he said, placing the fifty down on the table. "You know the rules about sahrving the intoxicated." "An' ye ken I'm close wi' one o' the managers o' this establishment. Gimme another." Sighing loudly, the redhead poured out another measure of Glen Livet, neat. "She's gone an' run off wi' tha' Nunkumpoop again," he muttered. "Somethin' aboot th' plohmin'." In the corner, Father Andrew and Al' Jack Kerrigan were chatting over drinks and watching the people pass by. "Wha's wi' him?" Kerrigan asked. "Thinks his fiancee's run off wi' a vampire," the ex-vampire priest replied. "Weddin' jitters," Kerrigan nodded. "Tuyme to do soamethin' aboat it." The two men picked up their drinks and walked over to the bar, flanking the groom-to-be, while the evening's lounge lizard sang "Danny Boy" for what seemed like the tenth time that evening, each one more mechanical and less heart-felt than the last. "Eh, lad, wot's eatin' ye?" Kerrigan asked. "Ye're too healthy-lookin' t' be a droankard, and too yoang t' have the world's sorrows aboat ye." "He misses his fiancee; she's at a bridal shower," the Siobhan whispered to the centenarian. "So that's it," Kerrigan noted. He turned to the younger man. "Laddie, if ye can't live without 'er noa, what's life going to be like in ten, twenty years from noa when she's roaning all ovuh with the little ones?" "If she stays still lang eno' tae have bairns," Chris lamented. "An' if they're *my* bairns, an no' tha' Nunkumpoopies' o' hers." "Son, do you love her?" Father Andrew asked. "Aye... a' least, I think I do. A week ago I lo'ed her wi' a' my hairt..." "An' what's changed that?" "She lied to me about this Nunkies o' hers," the kilted one said, taking another hit off his Glen Livet. "What's the matter with her 'Nunkie'?" Father Andrew asked. "Not 'Nunkie'. 'Nunkies.' Some vampire she an' some other lasses ha' lost their haids ower. They call themsailves 'addicts'... My Heather, an addict..." he trailed off, reaching for the Scotch again. Father Andrew caught the young man's wrist and stopped him. "Where's your Christian love?" he asked the distraught man. "Remember 'hate the sin, love the sinn--' oh. Right. Forgive me, I'm oat of praectice." He bowed his head and crossed himself. "You're the closest thing Heather has to family up here," he said. "In fact, you *air* her family up haire. Ye must support her an' help her owercome this addiction of hairs." "How can I, when she's always *there*, never *here* wi' me?" As the three men grew silent for a moment, the lounge lizard's broken voice came through clearly enough to understand the lyrics. Oh, bonnie lass, 'tis Nunkies, Nunkies calling His addicts all to gather at his shrine At which in drooling meltdown you'll be falling, And at the Jewelled Peach you'll surely dine. But should you fail to answer to his calling His wrath is strong, his judgment near divine: Within his arms, you'll suffer one last mauling As on your neck, his fangs prepare to dine... Yet should you harken to his siren beckon And hasten to appear before the Shrine The glories of his worship you'll soon reckon: Designer clothes, closets of shoes, and trappings fine. "How can I compete wi' that?" Chris asked, slamming his again-empty glass on the bar for a refill. "With what? A two-bit singer plodding out three-bit lyrics?" Kerrigan prodded. "Wi' that vampyre's marketing machine," Chris replied. "As long as it's just the vampuyre's glamour, just let her have fun," Father Andrew advised. "It's not as if he's the Lord of the Manor, askin' for his rights." Chris looked strangely at Father Andrew. "First night, any night..." another ex-vamp expounded as he bellied up to the bar for another stout. It was not what the betrothed needed to hear. "Keep 'em comin' at me," he told Siobhan, placing another fifty by his empty glass. With a sigh, both priest and centenarian followed suit. ******************* Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Wed Aug 25 17:58:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JjdV-0006gd-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 16:27:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7729; Wed, 25 Aug 99 16:24:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3680; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 16:24:29 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 16:26:06 EDT Reply-To: EnidKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Enid Rodriguez Subject: War: Enforcers: Boogie at Blackwood 2/? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f9960b033876a09463094377dcd575ad War: Enforcers: Boogie at Blackwood 2/? Written By: Enid Rodriguez, Supply Lieutenant of The Enforcers Place: Enid's suite, and the Rooftop of the Blackwood Arms, the official enforcer hotel. Time: 2:00pm, Wednesday, August 25, 1999 Other Enforcers and Shadowman used with permission ========================================== "Enid, Enid!" Kim shouted as she banged on Enid's door. She was supposed to be back on the roof with everyone's bathing suits hours ago. They had finished setting up every detail for the party. The food, music, and decor. They had even placed chilled champagne by the Jacuzzi. Kim was about to break down the door when it swung open. Kim jumped back, a little startled. "How do I look?" Enid asked standing in the doorway. Enid posed for Kim, twirling around in a silver one piece bathing suit with matching strappy sandals. A sheer black sarong hung around her waist, to conceal her dagger holster. Kim extended her arm towards Enid. "My bathing suit, if you don't mind?" She asked shortly. Enid sighed and handed Kim her suit. "I'm sorry, I had to make a couple of calls, and I just lost track of time." Kim nodded with a smirk. "A likely story. Anyway, the gang is waiting for you upstairs." Enid grabbed a nearby bag which was packed with bathing suits, sunscreen, and sunglasses. "Let's roll!" Enid laughed as she and Kim headed towards the elevator. Enid stopped and grabbed Kim's arm. "The Shadowman, He still isn't naked is he? I won't go if he is walking around with his... little enforcer flying around!" Kim giggled and put her arms around Enid, leading her into the elevator. "No. He's fully dressed now. I assure you." Once on the roof, Enid dropped the bag on the enforcer's picnic table. She quickly glanced around, hoping not to run into the Shadowman. He had behaving so bazaar lately, and Enid had trouble handling it. "Whoa, look at you..." Steve's voice chimed from behind the grill. He handed her a virgin mango colada. "Thanks Hon, listen Steve you haven't seen ..um..*him* have you?" Steve shook his head No as he reached into the bag for his trunks. Enid heaved a sigh, "Thank goodness..." "Thank goodness for what, Lieutenant?" A deep voice make Enid jump. "Oh! Nothing Sir." Enid answered, averting her eyes from his and sipping her drink. "Enid, I wanted to say I am sorry if at anytime I made you feel uncomfortable." The Shadowman said sweetly. "That's quite all right Sir." Enid told him, leaning against the picnic table. The Shadowman leaned against the table too and looked down at Enid's drink. "May I have a sip of that?" He asked lickng his lips. Enid glanced at Steve who was shaking his head in disgust. From - Wed Aug 25 18:28:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JlRy-0001Ht-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:23:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8638; Wed, 25 Aug 99 18:21:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7130; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:21:06 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 15:22:38 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: WAR Extension Details X-To: phase3@gate.net, fkwar10leaders@eGroups.com, fkwar10leaders@onelist.com, mclisa@mindspring.com X-cc: fkwarlocks@egroups.com To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a24406d3e96b2b25e8cddbc2bed45f8d Hello, After some apparent confusion on the earlier note regarding the war post extension and the reason behind it, and further discussion that have taken place, here is what will now transpire: The war premise closing post will drop late Saturday Night which will take place at Midnight Toronto time (Eastern Standard Time). Posting after the premise will continue through Sunday Night until Midnight Easter Standard Time. This extension applies to everyone that is participating, and unfortunately will also affect those on digest as well. This means that the vampires will be mortal through Saturday Night Midnight Easter Standard Time. This means that posts with converted characters can take place on Sunday. This means the DATING within the post would be Sunday if it involved a vampire character back in their vampiric form. IF you need to post a thread conclusion prior to Sunday which would take place on Sunday, please make a note within the post for the time line keepers. There are preset limits on the FK lists for postage and please keep that in mind as well. To Recap: This extension is open to all who are participating in the current War. The war story conclusion post will be dropped late Saturday night and will be set at Midnight Eastern Standard Time on Saturday. IF for whatever reason, the post is unable to drop on Saturday night, it will be dropped on Sunday morning as early as possible. Posts can continue through Sunday Midnight (Easter Standard Time). Converted vampires will be vampires through Saturday Midnight Eastern Standard Time. Converted vampires will be back to being vampires starting Sunday Morning Eastern Standard Time. IF you have questions, concerns or other issues, please contact us at FKWarlocks@egroups.com Thank you for your patience and support. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 18:43:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jll1-0002Bl-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:43:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0489; Wed, 25 Aug 99 18:40:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8687; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:40:46 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 15:42:39 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Typo Correction. X-To: phase3@gate.net, forkni-l@lists.psu.edu, fkwar10leaders@eGroups.com, mclisa@mindspring.com To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6c85df520c7cda285275ef8a6e2e6482 Hello, We apologize if this comes through twice, but in the extension detail post recap, there was a typo. Converted Vampires will be Mortal through Saturday Midnight and back to being Vampires on Sunday. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 18:54:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JlrC-0002XJ-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:49:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0509; Wed, 25 Aug 99 18:47:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9119; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:47:08 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 15:26:48 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Typo X-To: phase3@gate.net, fkwar10leaders@eGroups.com, Forkni-l@lists.psu.edu, mclisa@mindspring.com To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a4472d3fe14bde98951dc01f4da4d691 Hello, A typo was in the recap, Converted Vampires will be MORTAL through Saturday Night Midnight Easter Standard Time. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 19:55:36 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JmnX-00055w-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 19:49:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0811; Wed, 25 Aug 99 19:47:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3311; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 19:47:27 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:49:21 -0500 Reply-To: Kalira Isbell Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kalira Isbell Subject: WAR: HAREM: Living the Good ..... Life? (01/02) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0f0fb634d9f038636562a051492a8989 Title: Living the Good Life? 01/02 by: KaliraRael Place: Harem HQ Time: early morning Thursday August 19th, During: Knighties: A Knight Out Enid used with her permission. Nick used with permission of the Knighties ---------------------------------------------- Harem HQ: 6:30 am, Suite #22 KaliraRael took one final swipe at the trim over the suite entry door with a dust rag. Turning around she looked at the room with satisfied approval. Most people would have considered the suite austere, but she found it spacious and relaxing. There were only three pieces of furniture in it. A low mattress platform (holding the air mattress), a small table designed so that anyone using it would have to sit on the floor (the most comfortable chair in the house in her opinion), and a small lamp stand (again designed low to the floor). Nothing more was to be seen. The "sitting room" was completely bare. She had just finished cleaning her rooms herself. The other wives thought she was nuts to labor so herself when there were maids to take care of it, but she treasured her privacy far more then the staffs services. It had taken the last two days to convince the staff to stay out of the suite. She had started out by asking nicely, progressed to telling, and then to threats. The final straw had come just yesterday afternoon. KaliraRael had returned from shopping for a dress to wear to the Harem party, and found Mac, the handyman, in the suite checking the wiring. Immediately, her temper had snapped and Fire and raged in her Spirit. She couldn't really remember all that had ensued after that, but she did recall the ending where she had chased Mac through the Harem HQ with a lit torch screaming that she would, "Flambe' his crotch if he ever crossed her threshold again!" It had taken three wives to subdue her and take the torch from her to douce the flames. The staff didn't go near her suite after that. Of course, they also tended to avoid her at all costs and the guys tended to turn pale whenever she looked their way. And poor Cindy, one of the night maids, had developed a habit of stuttering around her. She considered it a worthy price for her privacy. One final nod of satisfaction at a job well done, and she went downstairs for breakfast. After enjoying an excellently prepared meal, she sent her thanks and compliments to Wendy, the cook, and headed for the reception area to hear what assignment Randora would give her for the party preparations. Once she received her task, she headed out to fulfill her duties. ---------------------------------------------- Later that evening: Everything seemed to be going well. The band was great, and the refreshments table had an abundance of chocolate to offer. Nick had just arrived a little while ago and was sitting on the couch talking to Randora. KaliraRael walked over to the "underage" table and had a cup of punch. She was 35 years old, but saw no reason to drink herself silly. She had found that she enjoyed herself more if she stayed sober and watched everyone else make fools of themselves. A lack of hangover the next morning was also a good reason in her book to avoid excess. Two more cups of punch and a couple of brownies later, she turned to find Nick by her side. "May I have this dance?", he asked. "Certainly!", she replied. Nick took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. The band chose a slow number for this dance, and KaliraRael happily snuggled up to him. Habit took over and she spoke to him in what they called 'Olde Speake'. "Thou art most gay this e'en, My Lord! Dost thou, in truth, find such joy then in thy new state?" "In truth, I must confess, it doth please me greatly.", he replied. "One shouldst always find pleasure in the attaining of a goal so long in the seeking." "Assurdly, My Lord, and yet do I find a cause for alarm in it also. For look thou, I have harkened to the word of Rumor, and it doth bode ill for thee." "Ill, My Lady? Surely, thou dost not put faith in what Rumor doth say!" "In this instance, do I find myself persuaded to give it weight within my thoughts, aye. Thou shouldst remember that within the feather bedding of Rumor, one canst oft find an hard pea of Truth." "Aye, I do recall some such. Tell me then, My Lady, what doth Rumor say?" "That others hath joined thee in this altering of state, and find no cause for rejoicing in it. That some do place the blame for this change at thy feet, and wouldst seek revenge for it 'gainst thee. Ware thy back, My Lord! And find those that thou dost trust to help thee in thy warding, for I wouldst faine not lose thee so soon to the grasping hands of Death." "I hear thy words, My Lady, and shall heed them most seriously. But, for the nonce, canst we not put such cares behind us and take what pleasure we mayst find in each others company? Tis long since I have held one so beauteous as thou!" "La, Sir! Thy tongue be gilded in truth! What, dost thou seek to woo me again?" "Twas thou who didst woo me, or my memory misserves me quite. Though perhaps it wouldst be best to term it Blackmail." "Blackmail in truth, it might have been. Certis, thou didst display a great lack of reluctance in the payment of thy ransom!" "Nay, I didst find no displeasure in such payment. Indeed, I did revel in't. Twas an enchanted night, and I hadst nights to spare. What harm was there done by my sharing one such with thee. I was, after all, in thy debt." The song ended then, and Nick escorted her back to her place beside the refreshments table. He kissed the middle knuckle on the back of her hand, then left to find another with which to dance. to be continued in part 2 ------------------------------------- **Author's note: The term "woo" in this story is used in its original context. (i.e.-to convince someone by charm and guile to grant a personal request) In this particular instance, the personal request consisted of one night spent in the company of KaliraRael on the occasion of her 7th birthday. No romantic tie between KaliraRael and Nick is implied nor should one be inferred. Nick is *not* a pediphile! KaliraRael Dark Knightie, Caddywhack, Nick's Harem, FK Pagan, GWDFC, DMZ, KiD From - Wed Aug 25 20:06:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jmzc-0000Y6-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 20:02:12 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9159; Wed, 25 Aug 99 19:59:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4251; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 19:59:56 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 19:01:47 -0500 Reply-To: Kalira Isbell Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kalira Isbell Subject: WAR: HAREM: Living the Good ..... Life? (02/02) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7a0d71f3e87bd6439a339f91f15a7075 Title: Living the Good.....Life? (02/02) by: KaliraRael Place: Harem HQ Time: Thursday August 19th During: War: Knighties: A Knight Out Enid used with her permission Nick used with the permission of the Knighties --------------------------------------------- KaliraRael watched Nick walk away, rubbing her knuckle as she remembered that last kiss. She wore a dreamy smile on her face. 'The man is........stimulating!", she thought to herself. (*note: stimulating was substituted for actual thought. This is a PG list, after all.) With a heavy sigh, she turned away to get another cup of punch and something chocolate. A flash of emerald green caught her eye. Taking a better look, she discovered the emerald green something was a dress (well sort of anyway). From it's perch over a left shoulder, it flared out to cover a well developed front, snugged into a perfect hour-glass waist, draped itself over shapely hips, then dropped down to the half way mark over the right thigh. There it parted.....and continued to part until it exposed the left leg just below the knee revealing well turned ankles. The deep green color perfectly offset the light olive complexion, black hair, black flashing eyes, and silver jewelry. KaliraRael would have been insanely envious of the woman, if she hadn't been a long time friend of same. "ENID!!!!!", she cried out, and quick stepped over to hug Enid Rodriguez. Enid's head whipped around fast enough to give the average person whiplash. "Kali!!!!!", she shouted (a nickname only the oldest and dearest friends could get away with), and returned the hug full force. Releasing the hug, the two walked over to the table with the chocolate. "Nice dress!", KaliraRael said. "How much did it set you back?" "This old thing?", Enid replied airily. "Oh, it's something I just threw on." "Yeah, and *almost* missed!", KaliraRael joked back. "I must congratulate you on your choice of footwear." She extended her right foot to show a strappy black high healed dress sandal that was a clone of the two on Enid's feet. "When did you get to Toronto?", KaliraRael asked. "I arrived on the 13th.", Enid replied. "Really! I wonder why I haven't seen you around. Have you been staying in your suite a lot?" Enid looked away for a second, then back. "I'm not staying with the Harem." KaliraRael's face suddenly acquired an 'I'm not gonna like this, am I?' expression. "So, where *have* you been staying?" "I'm with the Enforcers. There is a War going on, you know.", Enid said. KaliraRael didn't react for 8 seconds, then she grabbed Enid's arm and dragged her over into a corner. "Are you *nuts*?", she hissed. "From what I've been hearing around this party, you are about to find yourself between a rock and a hard place! Nick's mortal, so are a bunch of other former vampires, a lot of them are blaming Nick for their not being vampires any more, and *you* are about to get stuck in the middle of a major conflict of interest! You are just as enamoured of Nick as I am! What are you going to do if the Enforcers decide Nick is to be killed, and assign *you* that task? Can you really bring yourself to put a knife between his ribs?" Enid bit her bottom lip. "I don't know. I just don't know!" 'What would happen if you refused to do it?" Enid shot her a 'don't be stupid' glance. "Uh hunh, that's what I thought. You'd be marked yourself. If I were you, I'd get out of town fast!", KaliraRael informed her firmly. "No." Enid stated just as firmly, "Whatever happens, I'm not going to run like a whipped dog with its tail between its legs! I work it out somehow. Besides, they may not make that decision. Or assign it to someone else if they do. This all might be empty speculation!" KaliraRael gave her a skeptical frown, "So, you're just going to hang around and wait for the ax to fall. Are you *that* eager to dance with death?!" "May I have this dance?" "GAAAHHH!" Both women displayed a fine lack of regard for the laws of nature by levitating 3 feet into the air. Landing, they both spun around into defensive positions. KaliraRael had her fingers extended and stiffened into the position known in martial arts as sword or knife hands. Enid had knife *in* hand. They found themselves facing..........Nick, his torso slightly inclined, right hand behind his back, left hand extended toward Enid, palm up in the traditional position for dance requests and an anomalous startled look on his face. They sagged back against the wall in relief, hands pressed over their hearts. They looked at each other and shared identical sheepish grins, and adrenalin withdrawal gave them the shakes. As they pushed away from the wall, KaliraRael noticed the blade in Enid's hand. A beautiful silver dagger with a large emerald in the hilt. "Nice hardware.", she said. "Where were you hiding it?" Enid got a conspiratorial look on her face. "Can you keep a secret?" KaliraRael nodded eagerly, and when Enid leaned forward to whisper, met her half way. "So can I.", Enid whispereed in her ear then backed away. KaliraRael blinked at her a couple of times, then exibited her maturity and sophistication by crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. Enid grinned back, then turned to Nick and said, "I would be honored to dance with you." She placed her hand in Nick's and allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor. As they walked away, KaliraRael noticed the dagger was once again concealed. She heaved a martyred sigh. She *still* didn't know where that dagger was hiding! After getting another cup of punch, she circulated around the ballroom and joined in on the fun. Some time later, there came a nerve grating sound reminiscent of fingernails scratching down a chalkboard. Looking up, KaliraRael saw that someone had intrigated a "Battle of the Bands" (if you could call it that). Coming to the conclusion that she was either going to have to drink something stronger than punch, or retreat from the racket, she ordered a bourbon and seven with lime from a passing waiter. By the time her drink arrived, the "bands" had stopped "battling" and some women in costumes right out of The Arabian Nights were dancing. One of them coaxed Nick onto the stage, and the evening became *real* entertaining. A little later, KaliraRael noticed that prickly feeling at the back of her neck that said, 'something's not right'. Not wanting to miss a single moment of Nick displaying his flexability and stamina, she tried to ignore the sensation. It was a useless effort. The sensation only got stronger. With some reluctance, and a great deal of willpower, she pulled her eyes off the action on the stage and looked around the room. At first, she didn't see anything amiss, then.......there! by the door! A little girl of about 10 years old stood by the ball rooms double doors. Her hair was honey blond and hung down past her hips. She was barefoot, and was wearing an old style night dress with a mop cap. The girl turned and looked at KaliraRael with eyes that were a perfect match for the color of Enid's dress. KaliraRael opened her mouth to ask the girl who she was and what she was doing there. The girl quickly placed her index finger against her lips in the universal 'shhhhh' gesture. Then, will a quiet giggle, she skipped out of the ball room and across the lobby toward the stairs for the upper floors. KaliraRael followed. Watching her, she saw the little girl reach the grand staircase, turn and smile at her, turn back, lift her left foot to place it on the bottom step.......and vanish! KaliraRael blinked rapidly, then glanced left and right. The little girl was nowhere to be seen. She looked back at the stairs.......still nothing. "Once while passing by a stair, I saw a man who wasn't there." She murmured the quote softly to herself, then she spotted Robin, the bellho......er, Comfort Coordinator. She walked over to him and got his attention. When he saw who it was, he took a quick half step back. "Robin, who was that little girl?", she asked him. "Little girl? What little girl?", he responded. "That little 10 year old girl who just came skipping through here!", she snapped in exasperation. "There's no little girl here. Just the adults and teens at the party.", he said. "Don't give me that! She went right pasht you! You must have sheen 'er!!" Robin eyed her warily, then plucked up his courage. "Perhaps you should consider having something non-alcoholic for the next hour or so.", he suggested. "Don't be rediculash! Thish ish the firss alcohollic drin' ah've ha' all nigh!", she slurred, then froze. Slowly her eyes tracked across the lobby to the ballroom. She walked over to the doors and eyed the punch bowl with suspicion. She walked back over to Robin, handed him her two thirds full glass of bourbon and seven and said, "Would you be sho kind ash to shee tha thish getsh back to the kitshen? And tell Randora that shomeone hash shpiked the punsh!" Receiving Robin's "Yes ma'am" in response, she gathered as much of her dignity as she could around her and retreated to her suite *before* the pink elephants could decide to show up and take her away. KaliraRael Dark Knightie, Caddywhack, Nick's Harem, FK Pagan, GWDFC, DMZ, KiD From - Wed Aug 25 20:58:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jno0-0002mH-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 20:54:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9485; Wed, 25 Aug 99 20:51:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8411; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 20:51:02 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 00:52:58 GMT Reply-To: "Mildred G. Cady" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Mildred G. Cady" Subject: WAR: DP/RAVEN/MERC- Where Do You Want Me To Put This? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 57ce9a797f24886e507eec7ca8d8167a Where Do You Want Me To Put This? by Mildred G. Cady Merc Mommy General Time/Place: Wed. 8-25, noon at the Raven Janette, Tracy, the Ravenettes, The Raven, and the DP are used with permission. Michel Saint-Louis is an entirely fictional character created by Mildred. ~~~~~~~~~~ The crate was slowly rolled into the door of the Raven, poked and prodded. Michel had come in just before the crate and bowed to the ladies assembled. Those who had missed the casting the week before nodded to their companions---- he was *cute*. "Bonjour, mesdemoiselles, and how are you?" There were a couple of sighs at that mocha tinted voice. Mary looked at him for a mintue, then past him. "Michel, aren't there two boxes?" The young scultper blushed and bowed his head a little. "Ah.. there was a problem... A fault in the pink marble caused it to crack, and I cannot find a large enough piece to complete a statue before I have to return to Lyons." Janette smiled.. she thought he was from there. Her estimation of his accent was correct. Tracy and the DP looked crest-fallen. Tracy was looking forward to showing the statue to Vachon, and telling him what she did to have it made. "But," Michel quickly added to lighten the spirits of the lady detective and her followes, "since I have the cast, I can try again when I find an appropriate piece, and arrange for it to be sent at a later time, no?" "Take your time," Shana sighed. "After this weekend, we won't all be here in Toronto for a while." Janette walked over to the crate. "May we see it?" she asked with a sly smile in her voice. "But of course..." Michel set about carefully opening the crate, and in a shower of bio-degradable packaging peanuts, a lifesize statue of the vampire-turned mortal was revealed. "Wow," was the general conculsion of everyone. In flawless marble, so pale it looked like milk, was Janette- chin high, wearing a simple sheath dress that had an elaborate Celtic pattern etched into the hem. Her hair was styled into wild ringlets, and Michel had even carved one of those classy "invisible chain" necklaces into the sculpture. Janette just smiled a little. "I'll have to think of where to put this before we open tonight, but I am pleased." She walked over and gave Michel a kiss on each cheek. The crowd of ladies moved, almost as one, to inspect the statue closely. "Wow... I think I can see the stitches in the embroidery.." There was a Ravenette looking at the hem of the dress. "This is incredible detail..." It took some manuvering, but finally the statue was placed an alcove behind a curtian of chains, which Janette gave orders to be removed after things had quieted down. Michel looked at his watch. "I need to go soon, my flight leaves tomorow morning, and I still need to pack." The assembled ladies sighed. "Tracy- since I could not give you a statue, could I get you and your friends some coffee? I have time for a cup." Mary and Shana looked at Tracy, in time to see the grin that popped into existance. They grinned also- free coffee with a gorgeous guy. "I just have one phone call to make, and then we can go. Do you happen to know of a place?" FIN _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 20:58:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JnrA-0002u1-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 20:57:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1197; Wed, 25 Aug 99 20:55:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8747; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 20:55:16 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 19:55:42 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: FoD: Here puppy...... 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0ef93108246d04c5c57ce73e9c20ee7b WAR: FoD: Here puppy....... Place: The Happy Soluvaki Deli Time: Approximately 3:00 p.m. August 25 By Kathy K BBBBRRRRRIINNNGGGG "Kathy, Can you get that," Lori screamed at the dozing Kathy. "Huh? Get what?" BBBBRRRIINNNNNGGGG "THE PHONE, GET THE PHONE!" Lori and Spifff cried in unison. "Oh," Kathy exclaimed in the midst of the third ring and falling off the chair she was sleeping on, finally picked up the phone" "Happy Soulvaki Deli, can I help you" "Who?" "Jenny, who?" "OHHHHH, Hi Jenny, it's Kathy. What has you calling here?" "He DID??? Really? Wow! Sure, your dad is right, we do have a bunch of pet lovers here. Whatcha calling him?" By now, the FoDs had gathered around Kathy, whispering to her to tell them what was going on. "Shhssssh", Kathy finally said to the gathering group. "Oh, no, Jenny, I wasn't shssshing you, just the other pet lovers here. Hey, I got an idea, what if we all head over to the Moose Lodge and see the puppy and give you some advise, OK? I'll gather up some pet lovers and we will meet you later tonight. Let your dad and mom know and if any problem, give us a call back. See you then!" Kathy finally hung up the phone and turning to the group screamed "Schanke bought Jenny a golden retriever puppy!!!" The group awed and began to ask questions until Bev looked up and announced, "It's party time!" Yes the FoD Pet party is offically open.:-) Starts at 7:00 at the Moose lodge so bring your pets and your appitites.:-) From - Wed Aug 25 21:03:39 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jnuo-00032W-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 21:01:19 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9539; Wed, 25 Aug 99 20:58:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9336; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 20:59:00 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 19:59:27 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: FoD: Its a jungle out there 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cd3d6695cd50813797990b19b3565f59 WAR:FoD: Its a jungle out there 1/1 Date: Aug. 25 around 5:00 p.m. Place: The Moose Lodge Kathy,Bev,Spiff and Rav were in the back yard decorating it for the upcoming party. = =93Where=92s everybody?=94Rav asked as she stood on a chair to hang a chi= nese lantern. =93Ron,Leah and Lori went to the store for some supplies.=94Bev replied,=94= And Cindy=92s in the kitchen trying to get everything organized." CLATTER!! BANG!! SHATTER!! The FoD=92s exchanged an alarmed look before racing into the kitchen. There they found Cindy sitting on the floor surrounded by several metal cookie sheets,four broken plates, three half cooked pizzas and one spactula. =93What on Earth?=94Spiff asked as she saw the plume of smoke coming from= the oven. Bev raced toward Cindy fearing she was injured,=94Cindy,are you alright?=94She asked as she knelt,=94Anything hurt?=94 =93Only my pride.=94Cindy muttered as she slowly rose to her feet with Kathy=92s help. =93What happened?=94Rav asked as she grabbed a couple hot pads and carefu= lly started to pick up the hot cookie sheets. Cindy glanced down at herself as she leaned on Kathy=92s shoulder. She wa= s covered from head to toe in flour, pizza sauce and cheese. =93I figured I would get an early start on the cooking.=94Cindy explained= as she walked back toward the sink,=94I think I put too many pizza=92s in at= once.=94 =93We still have time,=94Kathy replied as she handed Cindy a towel,=94We=92= ll spilt the group up and have some at the Deli and some here cooking. We=92ll get it ready.=94 Spiff coughed as she rose to her feet by the oven waving the offending smoke away,=94I don=92t think so. This thing is offically history.=94 Cindy blanched,=94There=92s no way to fix it?=94 Spiff shook her head,=94Afraid not, the wiring=92s fried. It wasn=92t the= pizza=92s that killed it, its just ancient. Should=92ve been replaced a couple wars ago.=94 Cindy leaned back against the counter,=94Great,now what are we going to do? We can=92t possibly cook all that food we have planned with just the oven at the Deli.=94 =93We=92ll figure something out.=94Bev replied as she threw one of the pi= zza=92s in the trash,=94Maybe Schanke will let us use their oven.=94 From - Wed Aug 25 21:23:40 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JoEs-00014x-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 21:22:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1384; Wed, 25 Aug 99 21:19:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1482; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 21:19:41 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 21:21:43 -0400 Reply-To: Emma Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Emma Subject: War: Vaq: A Fate Worse Than Death To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 971e9ee59e2bd5b0a61b10f07fdca09d Title: Vaq: A Fate Worse Than Death (01/01) by Emma Lighton Place: The Church Time: August 22, During "Vaq: Who Says You Can't Go Home Again?" Vachon sat down next to a miserable looking Emma. She was huddled at one end of the pew, a mauve octopus, Octavia, hugged tightly to her chest. "Are you okay?" He asked. She shook her head, and Vachon put a comforting arm around her shoulders. Emma buried her face in his shoulder and began sobbing. *What did the DPs do to her?* Vachon thought. He knew she'd been found tied to a chair in the basement, but a lot could have happened before then. "The Rack?" Vachon asked. Emma shook her head. "Thumb screws? Chinese water torture?" She continued to shake her head. "Iron Mai..." Vachon cut himself off when he remembered how many Iron Maiden cds she owned. "Um...Spice Girls?" "Worse." Emma sobbed. Worse? Then a horrible thought crossed his mind. "They made you drink coffee, didn't they!" Vachon recalled with a shudder Emma's reaction to hapless people who didn't know about her coffee aversion. But tied up and helpless... "The fiends!" Emma, however, shook her head again. "Worse than that." Vachon stroked her hair comfortingly, as he racked his brain. He couldn't think of anything else. He cupped a hand under her chin and raised her tear streaked face, til her reddened eyes met his brown ones. "What did they do to you? I swear no matter how horrible it was, I'll avenge you." Something about a damsel in distress, brought out his protective instincts. "They...they..." Emma broke off, sobbing harder at the thought. She buried her face in her hands, sending Octavia tumbling to the floor in an inglorious heap of tentacles that left her pink underside exposed. Absently picking up the long-suffering stuffed toy, Vachon forced Emma to look at him again. "You have to tell me," he insisted. "They kept my tied up for hours with..." She sobbed again, but managed to continue. "With...with nothing to read!" "That's it?" Vachon asked. Emma grabbed him by the lapels of his leather jacket and shook him. "Do you have any idea what it's like?!? Not one word, not one syllable, not even a single letter in that godforsaken place! Not even a hapless encyclopedia salesman trapped in the jello. I was in hell!" "Um..." Vachon began. He wasn't quite sure how to avenge this. He wasn't even quite sure he understood it. He liked to read, but this sort of reaction was beyond him. "If it's any consolation, they stuffed Mary's room full of peeps." "Peeps?" Emma seemed to perk up. "Yup. Hundreds of the little yellow suckers." "You know, I feel much better now. Thanks." She planted a wet kiss on his cheek and, taking Octavia in arm, hopped off the pew and went to join the others. "You're welcome." Vachon told her retreating form. With a sigh, he shook his head. He was never going to understand them. The End --- Emma (egl@operamail.com) Vaquera * T+VPack * DP heretic * War 9 Vet. "You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought." -- Star Wars http://members.tripod.com/lostshadows/main.html From - Thu Aug 26 06:40:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JosG-0002qt-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 22:02:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3890; Wed, 25 Aug 99 21:51:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6398; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 21:51:39 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 21:55:39 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack: Sweet Scents To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 031973d894dac5ea5910ce04ec672bd6 WAR: N&NPack: Sweet Scents (1/1) By: Susan B. Time: Tuesday 2:00 PM Place: Outside the N&NPack Theatre Entrance ------------------ Monique and Mysterie emerged from the theatre for an afternoon walk and were stunned to find the sidewalk littered with paper. "Look at this mess! Monique shrieked, "I can't believe it! And it wasn't an attack either, you can see the mess for blocks!" "It is odd, " Mysterie remarked. "Toronto's usually so clean." She pointed to an laneway a couple of doors up the street. "Susan told me that a few years ago a movie company was filming just over there in the wee hours of the morning. They dumped trash in that laneway there for a shoot - wanted it to look like New York or something they said - and then went off for a meal break. When they returned thirty minutes later, all the garbage had been picked up by the City!" Monique shrugged. "Well, it's 2:00 in the afternoon, and it looks like a tornado blasted through here." "Looks like some of them are covered in doggie-doo," Mysterie said cautiously as she more closely scanned the multitude of flyers littering the sidewalk. "It's not doggie-doo," Monique declared. "Believe me, we'd know it if it was doggie-doo." She bent down, picked up a flyer and read it. "Hmmm... someone stole a 'one of a kind Lucius in Repose Tapestry... full sized wall hanging... General... someone was trying to sell it on Vee-Bay last Friday!" Monique slapped herself on the forehead. "My God! " she lamented. "I could have had a full size wall hanging of Nunkies!" Mysterie laughed and gestured back to the theatre entrance. "Can you just imagine what some of them would say about having that hanging in the Theatre!" "Some of us would be thrilled," Monique mumbled, drifting off into her own private fantasyland. "Actually... you know..." Mysterie paused. She gently tugged the flyer out of Monique's hand and read the rest of it. "Contact Don Schanke? What the heck is a homicide cop doing..." A sweet fragrance emanating from the paper suddenly interrupted her train of thought. She cautiously brought the flyer closer to her nose. "If I'm not mistaking," she said, "it smells like chocolate... and a very familiar chocolate too..." ------ Susan B. freestyle@idirect.com "That which you know, you ignore because it is inconvenient. That which you do not know, you invent." (Delenn, B5, TDoFS) From - Thu Aug 26 06:40:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JpAH-0006Ga-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 22:21:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1668; Wed, 25 Aug 99 22:15:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8005; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 22:15:47 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 22:12:05 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS/NA: Mercenaries Anonymous (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 243bbe6355a4fe52f8f1081600059896 WAR: MERCS/NA: Mercenaries Anonymous (01/01) by Laurie MercBard with input from Jules, NA High Priestess Hiatius filk by Laurie (thanks to Max!) Mercenaries Anonymous. It had a nice ring to it. Those bunch of Nunkheads could use a change of management, that was clear. Last evening, she and F. Hugh had held a long Poobah to Poobug chat, as the fan fic fairy reported the lack of activity he'd noticed while organizing the 4F headquarters, deep in the bowels of the Shrine. His news had at first shocked, and then, upon further contemplation, thrilled her. The NA leadership was in shambles. More precisely, there *was* no NA leadership. The Quad had disappeared. The Addicts were rudderless, which, in the MercBard's opinion, would compliment their brainlessness nicely. Her plot was working well. Granted, the Poobah had merely seen a golden opportunity and grabbed it. With Bons gone due to a family emergency (waves at Bons, we're all thinking about you, sweetie!), Patt missing, Annie away on business, and Jules having computer, pencil and employer problems, NA had been in a bind. So, under the guise of friendship, Laurie had volunteered to help them out. But even she had been surprised by how far her plan to invade NA's war stories had succeeded. First, she'd been able to drop her name - twice! - into a three paragraph post about the start of the 5k race, a post that dropped with an NA header and *her* byline. Writing eight hours of Conversion Day posts had obviously fried Patt's brain, because she had disappeared from the Shrine the following morning, leaving a garbled message behind about Laurie being in charge. Well, she'd said Jules was in charge, but named the MercBard as back up. The Third Cousin had clearly forgotten that Jules' lead problems had led her to announce at CD Day that she was taking a hiatus, leaving a definite management gap. Then, wonder of wonders, LC had hired her to deal with the DPs and the tapestry. Not knowing, of course, that the Mercs also had a Nunkies in Repose tapestry, stolen in last war's Merc attack on the Shrine during a minor and, at the time, unnoticed time/space bleep. Which naturally made the pleasure the GHP was deriving from spending LC's money that much greater. She was so power happy, she broke into a new Natalie filk she had written that she hadn't been able to fit into any of her other war stories, sung to the tune of Frank Mills from Hair, called Nick Knight. I met a vamp called Nick Knight A surprising tryst, we had no time for formality Oh, but fortunately He didn't bite me. He was brought in in a bag, all bloody He resembled a hamburger, not a hero Then he jumped right up Ran to the blood bank for a snack. I love him, but it astonishes me To watch him behave so dim He lives his life in darkness And mopes at home till sunset. He has cow's blood in his 'fridgerator And in the back he's hidden a stash Type A And B O Negative. I would certainly appreciate it If you see him tell him That I'm in the lab with my test tubes And please Tell him that I sure will try To find a new pathway back For him! "Evil? That KC chick doesn't know the meaning of the word evil, " the GHP muttered, with F. Hugh nodding his head in agreement. The GHP had evil down to a science. In fact, she was thinking of patenting the process and making anyone who played evil in the war pay her a commission. "Wants to take over the world, does she? I'm actually *doing* it. Without any BWHAAHAAAing either." Her new understanding with LaCroix worked perfectly also; he wouldn't be watching her that closely, especially in his exhausted state. In his mortal present condition, he likely couldn't find his way out of a paper bag, let alone the way to secret Merc Central. Which was good, because in order to resolve a particularly troublesome plotline, she needed to get the Nunkies tapestry, still at the new manufacturing plant, back to Merc Central without the ex and soon to be again soon vampire finding out. "I'm sure there's profit to be made with those Addicts, " she considered. "I'll have to get Pectin and Revenue Canada out of there, too. Hmm, maybe NA will pay the Mercs to relocate them. I wonder who I'd need to ask permission for that?" She stopped short. The person she needed to ask permission of was herself. But she'd have to work fast, cause she knew that Bons, Patt, Annie, and Jules, meanies that they were, would take away her new toy the moment they got back. - finis - From - Thu Aug 26 06:40:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JpSj-0004Ku-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 22:40:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4108; Wed, 25 Aug 99 22:38:10 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9401; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 22:38:10 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 21:40:04 -0500 Reply-To: Scott Greer Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Scott Greer Subject: WAR: Vaq: The V-Man meets Technology for the first time To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0d4a5a5b7e94cedd0b54b051eb620941 Disclaimer: Microsoft, Windows 98, and any other MS reference are owned my Microsoft, Inc. and not me. I don't think they would give up the free advertising from this. Likewise, Intel, Pentium III and Intel Inside are trademarks of Intel Corporation. (But I sell enough of their stuff so they shouldn't care) Computer Allies Inc., 1915 Texas St., Natchitoches Louisiana is a real computer store whose owner and faithful employees definitely don't mind getting anything free (especially food, money, and free ads) Vachon is used with permission. Scott has graciously agreed to appear. Date: 8/24/1999 Time: The Early Evening Place: The Vaq Shrine Scott was beginning to miss his computer. This happened any time he was away from it for more than an hour or so. But this time, it was different. Scott was not alone. Vachon, it seems, had always had a fascination with computers. He hadn't ever, in all his years, take the time to learn to use them. He had seen Tracy use hers at work, but he had never gotten to use one. But he knew a way to get his hands on them. "Scott," "can you get me a computer?" Vachon asked, knowing Scott could never pass up a sale. Scott's eyes widened. "Oh yeah, I think so," he said. "Just a basic system, or do you want full power?" The V-Man, always being the adventurer, said "Full power!!!!!!!!!" Scott called his boss at Computer Allies in Natchitoches, Louisiana. He had the boss put together the full maxed out system: a Pentium III 500 computer with 128MB of RAM and a 20 GIG Hard Drive. All told, with Super Express Same Day Service, cost Vachon $2200. But he could get the money, so he didn't care. *Later that Day* Later on the computer arrived. Scott began to unpack it like a kid at Christmas. Vachon grabbed a small device with what looked like a tail. "This looks like something Screed would eat. What is it??" he asked. Scott replied, jokingly "You're almost right......it is a mouse, but just a different kind. Let me have it so that I can hook It up now." Vachon stared at the computer like someone who had just fallen off the turnip truck; perhaps he had earlier in life. "What happens when you turn it on....does it work as soon as it's on?" Scott replied "No, it has to boot up first." "Boot up," Vachon asked, "it wears boots?" After he stopped laughing, Scott said "No, it's kinda like warming it up." Then a funny screen came up: Windows98. "Does that mean it has 98 windows inside?" Vachon asked. Scott, who was calm, replied "No, that's the name of the product. It has virtual windows inside, not real ones." "Ohhhhhh" The moment was here. Vachon grabbed the mouse. Scott Greer (macman@worldnetla.net) The Maverick From - Thu Aug 26 06:41:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jpnq-0005ES-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 23:02:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0372; Wed, 25 Aug 99 22:58:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2033; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 22:58:50 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 22:59:25 -0400 Reply-To: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Organization: @Home Network Member Subject: War: GSS: Strange Deliveries To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9e17e8b8a22e8ea9a0d4037e77489e2e War: GSS: Strange Deliveries Time: Saturday the 21st, 11:21AM Location: CERK and GSS HQ By: Jade Ashekevron (Agent Silver) and Jennifer Okerlund (Agent Ice) Everyone used with permission. The two delivery guys are the figments of our demented imaginations, so we give ourselves permission to use them. "Are you sure this is the right place?" the burly delivery guy asked his equally burly counterpart. The other man checked the papers on his clipboard before nodding. "Yup. This is it." The two looked up at the glowing sign above the doorway. "CERK. Ever heard of it, Lewis?" "Uh-uh. Must be a club, or something," Lewis replied, dismissing the name with a wave of his meaty hand. "All right, let's get this over with, it's almost lunch time and I got a hankerin' for some of that souvlaki they're selling down the street. You know what we're deliverin', Tom?" "Beats me." Tom said as Lewis parked the truck. "I just deliver the stuff." He and Lewis got out of the truck and walked inside the building. They saw a woman sitting behind a reception desk and walked up to her. "'Scuse me ma'am. We have a delivery for a..." Tom looked at his clipboard, "... hmm... all it says here is GSS." Isabella glanced at the clipboard thrown at her. Could this be a trick? She didn't want to be the one sending people to infiltrate the GSS headquarters. "Do you have ID?" she asked politely, flashing one of her patented smiles. She reached out and took the identification that they handed her and looked it over. It looked authentic enough... Lewis fumbled around in his pockets before producing a rumpled piece of paper. Isabella accepted it, smoothing it out on the top of desk so it was easier to read. " 'Please follow the map inclosed to a building called CERK. Inquire at the desk and we will meet you. Yours, GSS' Hmmm. All right, let me see what I can do," Isabella said politely, still not quite convinced this was for real. She picked up the phone beside her and typed an extension number quickly. Tapping her nails on the counter, she waited for the other end to pick up. "GSS Headquarters." Came a female voice at the other end. "Hi, this is Isabella at the Cousinly Reception Desk. There are two men here who say they have a delivery for the GSS. They're wearing uniforms that say ACME. Are you expecting them?" "Yes we were. Have them wait in the lobby for someone to meet them. Thank you." Agent Ice hung the phone up and headed up to CERK. "You two will just have to wait until someone comes up to meet you," Isabella told the two as she replaced the phone in its cradle. Ice made her way through the maze absent-mindedly, thinking of the "merchandise" that the two men were here to deliver. She reached the elevator and stabbed at the lobby floor button, grinning wickedly. The elevator door opened and she stepped in. "The Harem will never know what hit them." *fin* From - Thu Aug 26 06:41:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jqb3-00074D-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 23:53:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2424; Wed, 25 Aug 99 23:50:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7460; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 23:50:47 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 23:52:28 EDT Reply-To: MissMin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Mindy D." Subject: WAR:Knighties: Knickknacks, And Mr. Black, We're Takin' The Caddy Back! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c5e6450906399032cfa4f21031d5288d War: Knighties: Knickknacks, Mr.Black We're Takin' The Caddy Back(1/1) Time: Friday Aug. 20th During and just after:Chasing the Birthday Blues Away 1&2 Place: Various TO sites Written by: Knightie Mindy Bob is fictional. Bodenskya is Katrinka's and is used with permission, as are all players. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nick had noticed Gem's seemingly poor mood. He'd decided to do something about this. Mindy soon found herself pulled aside into a huddle with two other Knighties, Chris, AKA the Knight nurse, and Sandra. Nick considered his choice for a moment as the four of them stood in a corner. *Those two seem like good little Knighties* He thought to himself. *But, that one.* He eyed Mindy, until she caught him and imitated his patent 'I'm so sweet, you can't resist' smile. *She and Gem took me to that party....and I don't remember a thing! And then, they got arrested together. Trouble seems to follow them. What's going to happen to these two.* He glanced at Chris and Sandra. *If I send them out with Gem and Mindy* *I suppose they can handle it, they're big girls.* His decision made, he pressed his cell phone into Chris's hand and assigned them their task: Get Gemsong out of the loft for the afternoon. Moments later with her new partners in crime , Chris and Sandra, Mindy lead Gem, her new friend and old partner in crime out of the loft and headed for the many wonders of an afternoon in Toronto. "So, what first?" Sandra asked as they hailed a cab. Mindy shrugged, "Seedy part of town for tattoos? We could all get little Knights on our ankles." At the suggestion Gem's head snapped up, wide eyed. "I'm kidding!" She grinned. "How about shopping...maybe some downtown boutiques?" Gem relaxed a bit. "Oh, that sounds good. Maybe some of the smaller, less touristy places? They might have more unique stuff." Chris added. Gem simply nodded, still feeling kinda bummed about the B-day thing. The cabby dutifully took the four women to their destination...after asking if Gem, Mindy and Sandra were sisters, as they all had red hair. Together, they visited several small knickknack shops and picked up souvenirs for friends and family, and each shop owner or employee made a comment about the threesome's lovely red hair. Chris was beginning to feel left out. As they were walking down the street, picking another shop, a carload of young men passed them and shouted 'I love redheads!' Chris had had it. "I wanna be a redhead." Chris announced as the foursome seated themselves on a bench to rest a moment. "I've always thought it would be a fun thing to try." The three already redheads grinned, and dragged Chris into a conveniently located beauty shop just up the lane. "She needs a color job." Gem said, gently shoving Chris into the waiting stylist's chair. "Something in red." Gem and the others sat down in the lobby as the eager stylist went to work choosing and mixing the perfect shade for Chris's coloring. "Feeling a bit better now Gem?" Mindy asked. Gem smiled. "Yes, actually. I can't wait to see how Chris's hair turns out." "Me too!" Sandra agreed. "Redheads have more fun." She grinned. Just over an hour later Chris returned to the trio, with a lovely shade of light auburn locks. "What do ya think?" She asked turning and modeling for her friends. The three squealed in delight at their pal's new 'do' and welcomed her to Club Red . They quickly decided to find a place and have a snack and a drink and perhaps try out some of that 'Redheads have all the fun' thing Sandra mentioned. But that pesky trouble thing does tend to follow Mindy and Gem, and the foursome promptly got lost, ending up on that *other* side of town that is not so charming. And the evening was approaching as the sun sank further on the horizon. They continued their trek, eventually passing a garage. "Look guys," Sandra pointed. "Caddy specialists." The four women sighed at the disappearance of Nick's beloved '62 Caddy. They missed the big ol' barge, and they knew that the car was special to Nick, after all...that kind of trunk space is hard to come by. They slowed their pace enough to look at all the various Cadillacs when all their eyes came to rest on a huge covered thing, stowed away from all the other caddies. One lonely fin stuck out from the canvas cover. It was a bluey greenish hue. Could it really be? After a quickie conference to come up with a plan, they put it in motion. Chris walked just out of hearing range and dialed the PD to speak with the same detective, who earlier in the week had arrested Gem and Mindy. "Oh guys, I..I dunno. I'm not..." Mindy started trying to find an excuse, as she had been elected the initial distraction. "For Nick?" Sandra asked. That always gets every Knightie. Grumbling ever so slightly, Mindy prepared herself, looking toward the garage, seeing if anyone was watching. The coast being clear...she set the plan in motion. Squealing in delight she bolted right to the caddy in question. "Oh! This is it! This is it! This is the color....I loooove this color, I want my car to be this color." Before the mechanic could take any action, she yanked the canvas covering off the car. It was indeed Nick's caddy...it had to be. It's not likely that there are two caddies in Toronto *that* color. Min's eyes widened in recognition, but she quickly recovered. She gasped. "Oh my gawd! I have to have this car. I want this one!" She turned to Sandra and Gem. "Pleeeeease?" Then promptly put herself in the car. "Mindy!" Gem gave her best ticked off older sister glare, as she and Sandra joined Mindy next to the car. "You can't just barge in here." The poor mechanic just stood there dumbfounded, scratching his head. Sandra and Gem quickly sized him up....definitely not a member of MENSA, this one. Mindy turned a pouty face to Gem. "But please! You guys *have* to get me this car. Sandra was trying desperately not to dissolve into a giggle fit at Min's antics. Sandra sighed, trying to stave off the impending laughter, but it gave the effect of exasperation on her part. "Sir?" She asked the mechanic who was now growing agitated. His brother would have his head if he came back and these women were in here looking at everything! "Would you be willing to sell the car?" "Ahh, no ma'am. This ain't a place to buy no cars." "Puhleeeeease?" Mindy squeaked again, hugging the steering wheel. "But sir." Gem glanced at the man's name sewn into his shirt. "Bob, if I may?" He just looked at her so she continued. "Our sister," She waved a hand toward Mindy. "Seems to really like that car." Returning her hand to her side she covertly nudged Sandra. Sandra took a step toward the fellow. "Money really isn't an issue for us," She smiled. "Just as long as our little sister is happy." The money no issue thing seemed to sink into the guy's skull...or perhaps it was the close proximity of three redheads, as he did have just a tad of a fancy for red hair. Gem noted the glossy look that had reached Bob's eyes and took advantage. She too stepped closer and put her hand on his greasy shoulder *Eww...Nick had better really appreciate this* "Please Bob? I bet there'd even be a bit extra thrown in for you." She winked. Mindy had just stepped from the car as Chris walked in with Det. Bodenskya and his partner. Min and Gem immediately put on their best 'I didn't do anything bad' faces and smiled. The Detective flashed his badge at Bob, who seemed to lose all his color. "Mr....?" The Detective asked while flipping open a note pad. "Black." "Mr. Black, are you the owner of this establishment?" "Yes...ah no, I mean. My brother owns the place, I work with him." Bodenskaya nodded and scribbled something. "I see. Well, Mr. Black, are you aware that that car," he pointed at the caddy. "Is stolen." "Ah, ah, no. Nooo I didn't know." Poor Bob was a horrible liar. "Mr. Black you're under arrest for possession of a stolen vehicle." The other Detective made short work of cuffing and taking Bob off to an awaiting car. Now Bodenskya had time to deal with the Knighties. "Detective?" Chris asked. "Can we have the caddy back?" All four of the women looked to him, with that sad puppy dog look. (It's a Knightie thing...part of required training) "We still have a lot of paper..." "Pleeeeeease?" He was interrupted by the chorus of all four women. "But you two," he pointed to Gem and Min. "Were arrested for having a stolen car." "It was an accident," Gem defended. "We had no idea it was stolen, and it *was* at Nick's place...he's the one who let us take it." "All we want to do sir," Mindy added. "Is get Detective Knight's car back to him. I'm sure you know how much that car means to him. And what he'd do to someone who let it stay in impound, and something, say like a scratch on the door, happened." Bingo! Min's words hit their mark as all four women watched the realization sink in. "Look, you could even follow us to the loft. We just really, really want to get home." "Well,...alright." (Hey it's fanfic, it can happen) After a brief search, he pressed they keys in to Chris's hands. "You drive it, those two are trouble. And I *will* follow you." The Red Knighties let out a resounding squeal of joy. They got the caddy back! And if they hurry...they can get Gem back to the loft in time! ~~~~ After Nick tells his Six that the charges have been dropped and their records sealed and after the festivities have ended....... The Red Knighties gather, and share with Nick about their shopping trip. When asked what they got, Chris smirks. "Oh, you know just the usual, Knickknacks." Nick smiles, and turns to leave, not terribly interested. Chris continues, "Nick, catch" she said tossing him a set of keys. "We brought the caddy back, take her for a wash and lube. Now how's about we find that Galen's cube?" The foursome burst into giggles as Nick just looked at them for a moment, then rushed to see his car. _end_ From - Thu Aug 26 06:41:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JrUw-00042z-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 00:50:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1135; Thu, 26 Aug 99 00:48:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1970; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 00:48:39 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 00:50:18 EDT Reply-To: Tarkley@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tara Williams Subject: War: Knighties: Knightie Reflections X-To: KWL99@onelist.com To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 385230d7475ddeb4b387bf09277607f4 --part1_e31a43f5.24f6218a_boundary Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit War: Knighties: Knightie Reflections Date: August 20 Time: After Knickknacks, And Mr. Black, We're Taking The Caddy Back Author: Knightie Gemsong Nick used with permission. Gemsong sat on the floor of the loft amid the gifts and wrappings that remained from her 30th birthday party. She could not believe the generosity of her fellow Knighties. To throw a surprise party for her, and have cake and presents, it was all so overwhelming. But Nick, he was the coup de grace. Two kisses in one night, and such lavish gifts. Gem really was a lucky Knightie. She sat, fingering the pendant around her neck and wondered at its origin. Nick did not tell her its history, so she made a mental note to ask him about it later, when things had settled down a bit. This war had been different from the last one, to be sure, but she had made new friends and reconnected with some old ones and decided to count herself lucky to be with the Knighties, now and forever. As she rose from her spot on the floor she decided that no matter how things ended this time around, she had a birthday that would never be forgotten, thanks to her friends. New and old alike. (I want to say special thanks to Eowyn and Katrinka for writing the post, and to all the Knighties for helping me ring in my new decade! I love you guys!) Knightie Gemsong --part1_e31a43f5.24f6218a_boundary Content-Type: message/rfc822 Content-Disposition: inline Return-path: Tarkley@aol.com From: Tarkley@aol.com Full-name: Tarkley Message-ID: <8c10bcca.24f614c7@aol.com> Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 23:55:51 EDT Subject: Proposed Post: Knightie Reflections To: KWL99@onelist.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Mailer: AOL 4.0 for Windows 95 sub 10 OK guys, this war and the Harem crap has me needing to do a lighthearted piece. Also, it is mostly a thanks to the Knighties and nick for the lovely birthday party I was given. So here goes, let me know if you like it and it is OK to post. War: Knighties: Knightie Reflections Date: August 20 Time: After Birthday Blues 2/2 Author: Knightie Gemsong Gemsong sat on the floor of the loft amid the gifts and wrappings that remained from her 30th birthday party. She could not believe the generosity of her fellow Knighties. To throw a surprise party for her, and have cake and presents, it was all so overwhelming. But Nick, he was the coup de grace. Two kisses in one night, and such lavish gifts. Gem really was a lucky Knightie. She sat, fingering the pendant around her neck and wondered at its origin. Nick did not tell her its history, so she made a mental note to ask him about it later, when things had settled down a bit. This war had been different from the last one, to be sure, but she had made new friends and reconnected with some old ones and decided to count herself lucky to be with the Knighties, now and forever. As she rose from her spot on the floor she decided that no matter how things ended this time around, she had a birthday that would never be forgotten, thanks to her friends. New and old alike. (I want to say special thanks to Eowyn and Katrinka for writing the post, and to all the Knighties for helping me ring in my new decade! I love you guys!) Knightie Gemsong --part1_e31a43f5.24f6218a_boundary-- From - Thu Aug 26 06:41:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Js6N-000210-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 01:29:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1279; Thu, 26 Aug 99 01:27:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3886; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 01:27:19 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 00:36:31 +0100 Reply-To: "Tracy S.Morris" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Tracy S.Morris" Subject: War: Vaqs: They shoot chariots . . . Don't they? (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1115a63c2ae179831899efd67000a1ed Time: Monday during the conversion day festivites. Place: Queen and Peach streets, outside the Jewelled peach. They Shoot Chariots. . . Don't they? (1/2) by Tracy Sue Rae and Tracy Sue puffed their way along the 5k course. The rest of the Vaqueros were waiting for them at the finish line. Of course, most the Vaqs didn't believe in exerting themselves any harder than they had to. But Rae and Tracy Sue felt obligated. They were, after all, part of the Virtual Knights fitness group. And besides, they could add a little extra charity money to their charity-jar-for-the-talk-show-host whom-we-cannot-name-lest-the-lawyers-get-cranky. They crossed the finish line slightly behind a line of ratsies. Tracy Sue watched the ratsies in wonder for a few minutes. They all lined up, nose to tail in an intricate dance. "Hey, TS, what are they doing?" Vachon asked. "The Conga, I think." "So what's next?" Stephanie asked. "I think it's the chariot race." Juan said as he checked his program. This comment caused some very evil grins amongst the Vaqueros and Vaqueras. Most of them imagined that rolling around in a homemade chariot would be as much fun as rolling around in a customized Triumph. Very carefully, the teams of Vaqueros and Vaqueras pulled their chariots to the starting line. The chariot race promised to be quite a sub-event for the vaqueros. Both Vachon and Juan were participating. So many Vaqueros, and not a few Mercs and Ratpackers were placing side-bets on the outcome of this particular sibling rivalry. Thanks to her honed Vaqmommy senses, Tracy Sue could see the potential for trouble here. So she insisted on setting ground rules. First, both Vachon and the Inca had to have at least one other Vaquero riding with them. Second, there was no rule number two. Third, see rule number two. Fourth, the two leaders of the Vaqueros would be riding in a separate chariot to ensure that the race was run fairly. Fifth, all vaqueros would wear their conquistador's helmets in case of crash. Just before the race, Vachon was trying to coax an uncertain Tabitha into a chariot that resembled his motorcycle. "It looks like a race car bed with those Triumph molds on the sides." Tabitha said. "Come on Tabitha," Vachon wheedled. "My reputation is at stake here. You're not going to let Juan beat me before I have a chance to race?" He pleaded with her using his trademark puppy look. True to Vaquero form, Tabitha cracked under pressure. "Okay, but you better wear your brain bucket." she pointed to the conquistador's helmet. "I haven't needed this thing since I was mortal," Vachon grumbled. "Well, you're mortal again. Put it on." *** At the same time, Rae was staring at the camel that was to pull Juan's chariot, while puffing like a dragon on her cigarette. "And where did you get him?" "You guys gave him to me last war." "I thought that was a different Inca." Juan shrugged. "Convenient plot hole." As Rae climbed into Juan's chariot, she grumbled something about holes and Mack trucks. *** "I don't see any Knighties," Tracy Sue grumbled. She had been dangling that pendant thingey openly in the hopes of catching Knightie attention. It seemed like catching bass was easier. "Maybe they aren't coming," Felicia shrugged. " After all, this is a party for LaCroix." "Maybe not," Tracy Sue sighed as she put the pendant away reluctantly. "By the way," Felicia segued. "Aren't we supposed to participate in this race?" "You have a profound gift for stating the obvious," Tracy Sue said dryly. Felicia blinked. "It's just that it might be nice to have a chariot. You know, since it's a chariot race." "Have faith in the Vaqmommy," Tracy Sue smiled. With a flourish, she produced her coupon for a personal tranquility device. "You're going to use your gift to get a chariot?" Felicia sounded incredulous. "I would have thought that you'd go for a back rub." "Trust me Felish, it's all in how you wish it." With that, Tracy Sue whispered into thin air. Felicia blinked. First the air was filled with tiny fairies. Their wings glowed iridescent in the light. Then, the fairies were gone. But the marvel they left behind was beyond compare. If Triumph made a chariot, this would be it. Chrome wheels, black enamel cab. On the front, the Vaquero's crest was emblazoned. Each side carried the Vaqmommy's personal logo: Crossed whiffle bats, with the words 'Because I said so' written over. Best of all, was cadre of buff slave boys that were hitched to the front. "Now that's horse power," Felicia marveled. Her eyes roved over the Buff Slave Boys and their rawhide and denim outfits. "May I have one when this is over?" "We'll discuss it." Tracy Sue said as she vaulted into the cab. Rockey, the Grand Canyon Squirrel followed, chattering happily. Felicia brought up the rear smiling as her faction leader ran her hands over the leather interior. "It's good to be the Vaqmommy." She said. Tracy Sue Vaqmadre Vaqs in black leather, flock together! From - Thu Aug 26 06:41:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Js6p-0007g7-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 01:29:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1282; Thu, 26 Aug 99 01:27:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3918; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 01:27:47 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 00:27:37 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: FoD: If this is a Moose lodge where's the Moose? 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ea95ff4c98912fb8371398e2c10c0e01 WAR: FoD: If this is a Moose lodge where's the Moose? Time: August 25, 7:00 p.m. Place: The Moose Lodge Cindy Brewer placed the last tray of food on the table in the back yard and let out a sigh of relief. After the catastrophe with the oven she didn't think they'd be able to pull it off. But here they were the party about to begin and everything was ready. As she stepped back from the table she felt a hand grip her shoulder. Cindy screamed and whirled around. Schanke smiled as he held his hands up in a defensive postion,"Whoa,its just me. Didn't mean to startle you, thought you heard me. Guess some of Nick's sneak up on the perp tatics are rubbing off." Cindy relaxed and moved away from the table,"Its alright,Schank,I think I'm just a little stressed." Rav bounced over to them balancing about twenty cd's,"What cd should we put on first?" Cindy grinned,"You pick." Rav smiled as she shuffled through the cd's,"Okay."She replied as she turned and headed toward the stero. "The place looks great,Cin."Schanke commented as he picked a piece of pizza off one of the trays,"I really appreciate you guys doing this for Jen. She's so excited about the puppy and to have a party on top of it well she's on cloud nine." Cindy smiled,"We're happy to do it."She glanced toward the door at the sound of cars pulling up,"Looks like everybody's starting to arrive." end From - Thu Aug 26 06:41:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Js94-0001md-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 01:32:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1288; Thu, 26 Aug 99 01:29:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3999; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 01:29:59 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 00:39:15 +0100 Reply-To: "Tracy S.Morris" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Tracy S.Morris" Subject: War:Vaqs: They shoot chariots . . . Don't they? (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 51d7b4cd3b7cb9832e4038e7b699d1da Time: Immediately after They shoot chariots 1 Place: Along Queen street, near the Jewelled Peach. They Shoot Chariots. . . Don't they? (2/2) By Tracy Sue The Vaqmommy and VaqAdjunct got quite a few raised eyebrows as their team of buff slave boys pulled their chariot up to the starting line. Tracy Sue turned to LaCroix, and saluted jauntily. If the old general saw, he didn't let on. While Tracy Sue waited for the toga-drop, a line of ratsies started early. Not to be outdone, Juan's camel took off. Followed by a half-dozen other chariots. The vaqmommy figured that if she waited on the toga to fall, it would look like she was sucking up to Nunkies. She couldn't have that. "Hi-ya! Ya! Getty up slave boy!" With a groan, the buff slave boys pulled the chariot down queen street. The race was going well. The charioteers entered traffic, and started to weave in and out cars. "So tell me," Felicia said while they were on a roll. "Why you hang with the addicts? I thought you didn't like LaCroix." "Oh, don't get me wrong," Tracy Sue replied as she steered the Slave Boys around a Chevy. "Aesthetically, you have to admit that Lacroix is a good looking man. And the addicts are a lot of fun." "So what keeps you coming back to Vachon?" "Seriously? He's my first love. Or lust. Whatever. LaCroix is just a dalliance." "I'm sure he would disagree, if he heard you say that." Felicia muttered. Tracy Sue sighed. "Truth be told, LaCroix intimidates the Hell out of me. I could never align myself to someone out of fear. Vachon isn't like that. "That's god's own truth," Felicia agreed. She turned, and looked out for Vachon and Juan. **** "I'm glad we made them wear those crash helmets." Felicia said as she watched two charioteers wearing conquistador's helmets weave around a buick. "They'll be alright." Tracy Sue assured her second in command. Just then, a chariot being pulled by flying reindeer careened wildly between the two brothers. Juan's camel spooked, pulling his chariot through the window of a passing lingerie shop. Felicia looked at the driver of the reindeer-pulled chariot suspiciously. "Nah, couldn't be." Javier's own chariot careened off to the other side, and into an alley. It emerged on the other side in the middle of a fruit stand. Vachon upset the apple cart, the grape cart, the pineapple cart, and the peach cart. The spaniard emerged from a pile of fruit with a nectarine in his mouth. Tracy Sue pulled her triumph chariot to a halt. "Are you guys okay?" Rae emerged from the store clad in a red silk night dress. The Inca and his camel appeared with a bra on their heads. The camel crossed his eyes, and tried to remove the offending support garment. Vachon and Tabitha walked of the alley. Vachon spit out the nectarine. "This isn't the kind of neck I like," He said. "We're mostly unharmed. Tabitha held a bunch of grapes in the hollow of her helmet. "Glad you made us wear these, though." "What hit us?" The Inca asked. "Santa Clause," Tracy Sue said dryly. She motioned everyone over to her chariot. "We're already behind, It's time to go to plan B." Apparently the buff slave boys knew exactly what plan B was, because they dropped the reigns and climbed into the chariot after the Vaqueros. Tracy Sue touched a button, and a set of handlebars, and a ignition popped up. She turned the key, and the chariot's motor fired to life. The Triumph chariot sped foreword. The fit was tight, to be sure. But they all managed to squeeze in. **** The remaining Vaqueros ran to the chariot as it crossed the finish line. The took a nose count, and decided that since Vachon was sitting in the back of the chariot, that the Inca had crossed the finish line first, and was therefore the winner. "Not a bad little race," Felicia observed. "Not a bad little chariot," Tracy Sue replied. "I think I'll keep it around, just for emergencies." "And most of those emergencies would involve the use of your slave boys, wouldn't it?" The VaqAdjunct's smile was positively lecherous. "I think we could work something out." Tracy Sue smiled evilly. "I must thank Bonnie for this Tracy Sue Vaqmadre Vaqs in black leather, flock together! From - Thu Aug 26 06:41:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JsEG-0002EV-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 01:37:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2927; Thu, 26 Aug 99 01:35:25 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4420; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 01:35:25 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 01:36:43 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: UF: Patience and Understanding To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fd5227a5e8d6a3676500f87268aef647 WAR: UF: Patience and Understanding By: Julia Kocich and Lauren Hawes Place: The Hive, UF headquarters Time: Wed. afternoon and evening, Aug. 25, following "Chili, Anyone?" Les entered the darkened bedroom. The figure under the covers in the stuffy room moaned. Les approached, and was almost knocked backwards by the smell. She moved to the other side of the bed, hoping to get upwind, and whispered, "Julia? Are you ... all right? Can I get you anything?" "Ohhhhhh," came a low miserable yelp. Unable to come up with a snappy rejoinder, Les left the room. Two hours later, Julia, or what was left of her, clumped down the hallway and stood at the top of the stairs, looking down, unsteadily. Laurey, who was getting ready to walk Tyb, looked up and saw Julia: she knew immediately what was required. "Hey! Somebody get an UF Hangover Pak(tm), stat!" Amie rushed in from the kitchen with the Pak, just as Laurey helped the shaking Julia safely down the stairs and escorted her to a chair in the dining room. As the group of UFfers looked up from their late lunch, the safety seal on the Pak was broken and the bottled water, aspirin and cold compress distributed to the victim. "So, do you often spend an evening polishing off entire cases of Merlot?" asked Lauren. "Ha ha," croaked Julia, whose throat felt remarkably like a sidewalk. She reached for the blessed water and gulped greedily. Every remaining cell in her body sent up a "thank you" message at once. "You're welcome," she muttered. The UFfers around the table looked at her oddly. "Can we get you anything?" "Nooo .. I think I'd better try to detox completely, today." "Gee, Julia, we're sorry if we ..." "No, no. It wasn't you guys. You're the greatest, no matter how abrupt I can be. Or ... how incendiary your chili. It was just ... well ... " she took another gulp of water, "I really hate to do this to you all, but ... may I be allowed my own little flashback here?" The UFfers exchanged glances. Whatever their own hesitation, who was to gainsay their suffering Cobra? "Of course you are! We're just not used to you, um, opening up like this, is all." "I've been having the most terrible nightmares the past few nights. I could barely sleep at all. I think I was hoping the wine would let me nap before the cook-off, without the dreams coming. I don't usually recall my dreams, but these are so ... convincing," she shuddered. A silence descended around the table, until Les kicked Lauren. "Would you like to tell us about it?" said Lauren, recognizing a cue when it's made contact with her shinbone. Especially when it was delivered from a steel-tipped boot. "Well, we were all on a cruise. Everybody in the Hive, and the scandalously few other folks I know by name -- Libs, and Bons, and Chris/Roz, and Rae, and Susan .... It was lovely, but then we were shipwrecked. On an island that must have been some kind of experimental station at some point. There was a building with water and electricity and all the mod. cons., I mean, modern conveniences. But ... it was all controlled by a ... a ..." "You can tell us." Julia shivered she spoke: "a ... Random ... Verbiage ... Generator." "I thought that's what we *all* are, during Wars!" said Susan, and immediately wished she was still at the Enforcers BBQ. Julia's mouth muscles attempted a smile. A very very weak smile. "No... this was ... horrible ... a machine that almost produces parsable langauge which almost but not quite makes sense; a machine that is almost but not quite intelligent enough to be important to your survival on a desert island. You had to ask it for everything you needed: food, or water, or... anything. But most of the time, it wouldn't respond, and when it did, it was .... gibberish, complex, confused gibberish!" Julia broke down in sobs. Or maybe they were dry heaves. Either way, it was not a pretty sight. Les was genuinely worried for her friend. Not physically, but ... for her psyche. Julia did *not* believe in the virtues of unburdening herself, of "sharing." That she was spilling out this story, in a steadily increasing tempo, indicated the terrific mental strain she had been under. "Maybe ... maybe we should continue this later," said Lauren, not believing her own ears as she said it. She *hated* when she sounded like a bad TV show. "No, I need to ... get this out. You're supposed to, what is it, put a name to your fears, or some such crap? Anyway ... at first it wasn't too bad. There were coconuts and bananas and stuff on the island, and we could pretty much survive without asking the RVG for much. But then ... somebody, I forget her name, cut her foot. We needed the First Aid kit. But it took forever, repeating our request over and over, and louder and louder, before the RVG finally responded. By telling us where the satellite dish was and how to dismantle it, all in excruciating detail. We never did get that First Aid kit. And ... there *was* not satellite dish!" For some reason, that last fact seemed especially disturbing to the distraught woman. "That was the first sign of trouble. And ... then I guess I must have made it mad, because when I's approach it, it would yell, "pin sproctoring! pin sproctoring!" "Huh? What?" "I don't know. Whatever it was, it sounded pretty angry about it. I ... I ... must have unhinged it in some way. After that, I could swear I could hear it saying, 'Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain' at me whenever I asked it something." "What about the others? How did it treat them?" Julia paused to think. "I .. I'm not sure. I don't *think* it was much more responsive to the others. Actually, I think the machine, well ... I think its unresponsiveness helped create the climate for several pretty nasty arguments. Things get tense, when you're running out of hope, and trapped ...." It had grown dark over the course of Julia's troubled unburdening of her tormenting nightmares. Amie decided that Julia needed some more rehydration. Amie returned from the kitchen with another bottle of water. As she handed it over, she said, "Too bad the vamps weren't there, to fly us all back to civilization." Julia burst out in tears. "What did I say?!" pleaded Amie. Several of the UFfers wished they were elsewhere. Like within range of angry bees at the hives in back. Wiping her tears away, Julia explained. "That was the saddest thing: the vamps were there! But caged, and drugged, and ... nothing but captives! And there wasn't anything we could do to help them, since the RVG controlled access to all the equipment!" "How terrible!" "No wonder you got plastered." "But .. have you stopped having these dreams, Julia?" "I hope I have." "Well, we're glad to hear it. After all, almost anything can be overcome, with the help of patience and understanding," said Laurey with a sympathetic smile. Julia looked up as if she'd just been stabbed, and bolted from the table. "You'd never think a woman her age, with so much wine in her, could move so fast, would ya?" mused Lauren. "What did I say?!" pleaded Laurey. Amie and Susan looked at the time and remembered they were going to the FoD pet party. They'd be late if they didn't hurry. They went to round up their pets. As Julia fled the dining room, the doorbell rang. She stopped, then almost automatically went to see who was calling on them. As she opened the door a crack, an unmistakable voice said, "This does seem to be becoming an annual event, does it not?" Lacroix was not unused to her reaction. He gracefully stepped around the body of the unconscious Julia and entered the Hive for his appointment there. ~~~ From - Thu Aug 26 06:41:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ju23-00014Y-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 03:33:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1589; Thu, 26 Aug 99 03:30:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0127; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 03:30:58 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 03:33:30 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Return of the Kitties (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7bf115cf29ff7202bde0657f4de6eb1f Title: Cousins LCL: Return of the Kitties (1/1) Date: Thursday, August 19th Time: Morning, before "Cousins LCL: A Perfect Tour Guide" Where: CERK By: Arletta Asbury Arletta was worried. She was VERY worried. "I haven't been able to find Cordelia or Edgar ANYWHERE! I've looked and searched all over CERK and at the monastery too, even though the last time anyone saw the cats, they were here at CERK." "Have you looked..." Annette began. "YES! EVERYWHERE!!!!" Arletta nearly shouted. At this point Annette decided that a few comforting words were in order, "I'm sure they'll turn up soon," but she didn't sound very convincing. "Uhhh. Their owner will NOT be pleased if they don't." Arletta gulped before adding, "She nearly sued me over the damages we did to her cottage during the last war. What will she do to me if we don't recover Cordelia and Edgar?" With no easy answer to Arletta's question, Annette tried to change the subject, "I'll handle the interview scheduled for this morning, so you needn't worry about that." Then Annette hurried away. Arletta mumbled a 'Good Luck' and turned to go back upstairs, when she remembered something. Something important. She pulled the envelope containing her PTD out of her pocket and examined it again. Taking a deep breath Arletta stated very firmly (it did NOT come with a user's guide after all), "I want Cordelia and Edgar, in fact, I want ALL of the missing CERK cats as well as Shelley, to return safely to us within the next SIX hours." She figured six hours would give the fairies or *whatever* they were, enough time to arrange things. -------------- A short time later, Isabella the Cousinly Receptionist was overrun by a herd of cats ... uh cats are not herd animals, you say. OK then, by a flock of kitties -- as they overran her desk and scampered towards the elevators. Cordelia and Edgar were leading Gozer and Gandalf and Merlin and Willow and Duncan and Zorro and ... uh ... the rest of the pack! From - Thu Aug 26 06:41:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JuD2-0001Mk-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 03:44:32 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3214; Thu, 26 Aug 99 03:42:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0368; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 03:42:18 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 00:47:37 -0700 Reply-To: Anne Jensen Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Anne Jensen Subject: WAR: DP: The Perky Ones (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e915bdef48ed142c2f54b44edd091163 WAR: DP: The Perky Ones (1/2) Place: The DP Mansion Time: Friday, August 20, around 5 PM, after the Nothers' attack By: Anne and Maya Anne rolled her eyes, groaning. One little trip out to the store to pick up more chocolate (the demons must have been hoarding the stuff again) and lemon scented Lye-Sol (which had inexplicably been replaced with pine scented cleaner a few days ago--though Anne suspected the demons weren't necessarily responsible there), and *look* what happened! The house had turned baby pink and become overrun with *rats*! "Demons were bad enough, bats were even worse, but rats!!!!!" the token perky Perk of the DP grumbled, dumping her grocery bag on the table. Pink or not, the rats simply *had* to go. "Hey, Anne! Watcha doin'?" SNB skipped into the hallway. Without waiting for an answer, she went on, "Didja' see the outside of the house? Mary's *not* gonna be happy when she sees this!" "Maybe, if we're lucky, we'll be able to get it all cleaned up by the time she gets back." Anne cast a furtive glance at the door. "We got attacked, I suppose?" "Yup!" The DP teen skipped around in a circle, evidently in the throes of another cup of the recently discovered coffee/pixie stix mix. Trying to watch her was making Anne dizzy. She closed her eyes, the headache which had been threatening a few moments ago now starting to throb. "Do we know who did it?" The skipping noise stopped. "It's all kinda fuzzy, ya know?" Anne opened her eyes to see SNB's face twisted in thought for a moment. Then the skipping started again. "But it doesn't really matter. If we launch dry pink jello powder from, like, 30 different places across the city, we can cover all of Toronto in the stuff. And then, when it rains, the whole city will be one pink jello mold, and we'll get *all* the factions *all* at once." She started whirling around. Anne closed her eyes again, as SNB continued, "Isn't it exciting? I can't *wait* to see whether or not Bob's Bargain Barn is having a sale on pink jello!" A strange thudding sound began, and Anne peered through her eyelids to see SNB starting to do a tap dance of sorts. "On the good ship, Lollipop..." the purple-haired (which now Anne realized was done in a Shirley Temple style) DP began to sing. The rats scurried out of her way. Anne sighed some more and picked up the bag. She'd take care of the food first, the house second, and the rats third. This thought cheered her up a little. Nothing like a well-organized plan to put perspective on a situation. True, this was only the beginnings of a well organized plan, but it was better than chaos. ***** "Ooh." Maya cracked one eye open and then shut it again. She felt strange. She felt distinctly... fuzzy. It had less to do with the fact that she had just woken up, than with the fact that she was lying face-down on the carpet. She rolled over and opened her eyes again, meeting the curious gaze of a large, dark pink rat. Maya frowned. "Weren't you guys in the last war?" The rat ran up to her, snatched one of the green Doc Martens off her left foot, and scurried away. "Hey!" Maya yelled, sitting up quickly and in the process bonking her head on the wall. "Ow...." Glaring after it, she rose unsteadily to her feet, rubbing the back her head. "Give it back!" >From behind the walls came the distinct sound of one rat sniggering. She rubbed her eyes and started down the hallway, still scowling. Now that she was vertical and slightly more awake, Maya was aware of feeling more alert than she had for a while. She felt... competent. Self-assured. And she had this strange desire to shoot at something. Which wasn't unusual in itself. The strange part was that she had the nagging feeling she was supposed to arrest that something instead. The rat that stole her shoe would be a good place to start. Apparently it had klepto tendencies to rival the pink demons. Never mind. Maya was a Ratpacker. She knew all about rats. She'd get the shoe back. Eventually. Just then another rat scurried across the hallway. And then another. Nasty things, probably carrying diseases.... Maya shook her head. //Where the hell did that come from? I'm a *Ratpacker*!// Then she shrugged it off. "Questions," she murmured, bracing herself against the wall and hopping up and down on one foot, trying to tug her other shoe off. "Why I was sleeping in the hallway. Why no one found me- no, forget it, the Mansion's big enough. Why am I wearing mismatched socks? Why're we being overrun by rats- hey!" A purple-haired blur zoomed past her, knocking her off-balance and into the wall. She barely managed to catch herself instead of toppling over. Maya squinted down the hallway after the disappearing apparition, raising her eyebrows as a trail of high-pitched giggles floated back down the hall towards her. "...SNB?" Maya asked in disbelief. No answer. Well, her fellow dyed Thug's current temperament could only mean one thing. Obviously there was coffee in the kitchen. A good enough reason to head in that direction. By the time she reached the Mansion's spacious kitchen, Anne was already there, putting away chocolate in Rubberware boxes. "Hey," Maya said brightly, running a hand over her short hair, which was weirdly spiked after her sleeping on the floor. "Coffee?" "It's made." The token sunny Perk gestured at the end of the counter with her a container of chocolate. "Figured. I think SNB's been having a little too much." "Ran into her, did you?" Anne looked up and smiled, picking up a can of lemon-scented cleaner. "I thought the two of you had been overdosing on the pixie sticks again." "Nope, not me. Actually, I just woke up in the hallway. And a pink rat stole my shoe. You can't get fifteen-dollar Docs just *anywhere*, you know." "You guys have a party this afternoon or something?" "That's the thing." Maya narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, pouring the steaming black liquid into a mug. The smell of coffee filled the room, and she inhaled appreciatively, then sighed. "I actually don't remember anything. I *think* we were attacked, but...." "You're right, we were. Have you taken a look outside today?" The Perk crouched down and started putting the cans of cleaner under the sink. "Can't say I have, no." "Well," Anne paused dramatically as she stood, "the Dark Perk Mansion is now a delightful shade of pink." "Oh, well-" "*Light* pink." "Oh." Maya wrinkled her nose and sipped at her coffee. "Does Mary know?" "Haven't seen her yet." The blue-haired Thug shook her head and took another slug of the coffee. "Whew. Okay, I'm awake." She headed towards the refrigerator. "So," Anne said conversationally, "you don't remember anything about the attack?" "Well-" Maya paused, frowning into the depths of the open fridge. Anne looked up when she didn't continue. "What?" Maya huffed impatiently. "*Look* at this! It's a mess! Doesn't anyone keep anything *organized* around here?" And Anne watched, in confusion and disbelief, as the notoriously messy, disorganized, and all-around generally unruly Maya put down her coffee cup and started arranging the contents of the refrigerator in alphabetical order. To be continued in WAR: DP: The Perky Ones (2/2) Comments, etc, may be forwarded to: Anne Jensen (ajensen@west.net) Maya (rainstorms00@hotmail.com) From - Thu Aug 26 06:41:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JuD8-0005Fz-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 03:44:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5519; Thu, 26 Aug 99 03:42:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0383; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 03:42:21 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 00:47:42 -0700 Reply-To: Anne Jensen Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Anne Jensen Subject: WAR: DP: The Perky Ones (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 719c4cc0f5abf60546021cb7026e2ebf WAR: DP: The Perky Ones (2/2) Place: The DP Mansion Time: Continuous with Part 1 By: Anne and Maya By the time Anne had finished putting almost everything away, Maya had most of the contents of the refrigerator arranged to her satisfaction, and the rats had finally learned not to come too close to the tempting food. Glaring at one of the rats which had dared to come closer than the rest (a glare which the rat had unnervingly returned--that was one *angry* rodent), Anne firmly pulled Maya away from the refrigerator and shut the door. "Leave it for later. We have other problems." "What kind of problems?" June asked, wandering in. She had a faraway look in her eyes that suggested that wherever her thoughts were couldn't be reached without a several-hour long plane flight. Maya threw up her hands. "Haven't you noticed the rats and the house?" June's rather vacant gaze turned towards her slowly. "Yeah. So?" "We've been attacked! We have to find out who's responsible!" Maya yelled. The rats quivered. "So we'll find out who's responsible, pack along our squirt guns full of ribena, sneak in in the middle of the night, and coat the place in the stuff." June shrugged. "I still don't see what the problem is." Something about the logic of that bothered Anne. "Wouldn't the ribena gum up the squirt guns?" she asked. June shrugged. "So we use something else." She wandered to the pantry murmuring, "Beet juice would leave stains..." Helping herself to some brownies, she wandered out again. "Does she have any idea the number of diseases rats carry?" Maya stormed. Anne shook her head. "She seems a little shell-shocked. As in eggshell-pink." "Shell-shocked or not, it's not going to take care of the *germs*!" Maya grabbed the bottle of anti-bacterial lemon dish soap that Anne hadn't been able to put away yet, and began firing it in the random direction of the rats. It was the shock of seeing Maya turn such a furious attack on the rats that made Anne a little slower about grabbing for the bottle than she might otherwise have been. The rats turned tail and ran long before it could hit them, of course, but the soap hit the wall squarely. Already outraged by the light pink paint, the house took this latest burst of bright and sunny Perkiness badly. A low rumbling started from the basement. Anne and Maya looked at each other nervously and then did the only sensible thing: ran. They hadn't made it very far down the drive, nearly running down a returning Andrea, when an explosion from behind them knocked all of them to the ground. Something warm, sweet-smelling, and gelatinous fell out of the sky and covered them. Squirming around on the ground, the three DPs beheld the (familiar) sight of the house spewing ribena jello--and several unfortunate basement victims--from its chimneys to the sky. Evidently having vented enough of its fury, the house cut off the flow jello after a half a minute or so, but the damage was done. Pink jello covered the DP mansion, the yard, and several of the neighboring houses. Maya and Anne exchanged another glance at the even *worse* turn the day had taken and groaned. "We're *never* going to get this cleaned up by the time Mary gets home," Anne said, putting her head in her hands. "At least there's one good thing in all of this," Maya pointed out. "As a homicide cop, Tracy won't let her kill us." "This is war," Anne answered, not pulling her head from her hands, "no one dies--no one *ever* dies." She took a deep breath, coughed on the jello she'd just breathed in, and looked up. "Let's see how bad the damage is." "Does this sort of thing happen a lot?" Andrea asked, as they began wiping the jello off before its soporific effects could overcome the caffeine in their systems. "Only once a year," Anne told her. "And only when the house gets really mad at us," Maya added. Noticing an odd card on the ground, she picked it up and stuffed it into the front of her dress for closer examination later. They headed towards the other groups of people who had escaped from the mansion. Only two of them were actually on their feet, yet, and Jenny2 and Jenny3 were not only on their feet, they were actually hopping up and down in excitement. "HeyMayaAnneandAndreadidjaseewhathappened?" Jenny2 exclaimed. "Itwassocool!" "Thinkit'llhappen again?" Jenny3 added. "Itwasfun!" She giggled. Anne rubbed her temples and made a mental note to throw away every pixie stick in the entire mansion. "I don't suppose that you saw who attacked us today?" "Nope," Jenny2's hopping increased, and "butIwanttohelpcatchtheoneswhodiditandhelptiethemtochairs--" "--whileweplaythePokemonthemesongoverandoverandoveragain!" Jenny3 finished. She giggled. Again. Anne revised her mental note to include turning off the coffee makers when a third of the remaining contents in the pots had boiled away. "Why don't we clean up the house and get rid of the rats first," she suggested. After all, there wasn't any reason why that energy couldn't be used in a positive way. "Excuse me, ma'am--er, madams. Might I be of assistance?" A new voice asked. The group turned to look at the newcomer. His red serge was tinged slightly pink after long exposure to the jello, but their basement mountie turned in a salute as proper as any his less squelchy comrades might have done. "Yes! Anything!" Maya exclaimed. The mountie was even more cute awake than he was sleeping. "Later, Maya." Anne muttered out of the corner of her mouth. Addressing the mountie, she asked. "How are you at catching rats?" "Rats?" Andrea asked, still not sure what was going on. The mountie listened carefully as the DPs explained the situation, listening even more carefully when Jenny2 and Jenny3 were talking, and declared in a solemn voice that he would be more than happy to help. Andrea immediately offered to help as well. Between the six of them, and SNB and June, they managed to get the rats put into cages (found in the attic) in relatively short order. Instead of making it easier for the rats to escape, the pink aspic which now coated them (and the floor, and the walls, and the ceilings) only seemed to be slowing them down (a little like they were used to moving in it, just not in quite the same way), although it didn't seem to be making them tired as it did with most other living things. A call to the local pet shop took care of where to send the caged pink rats. Not having heard of the DPs' reputation as much, they were happy to send over a truck--as long as it didn't actually have to enter the grounds. "Has anyone seen the demons?" Andrea wondered, as she held out a stick with a piece of chocolate stuck on it to keep a rat cornered while Maya snuck up on it from behind with a bag. Maya pounced before answering. "Not recently. The poor guys must have taken one look at the light pink house and fled in terror." She deposited the latest rat in the cage and thoughtfully squirted it with (citrus scented) hand sanitizer, making the rat cower in terror. "In that case they should be back soon. The jello explosion dyed everything dark pink again." Anne called, hauling two rather full cages. "I think that's the last of them. Let's get these little critters out to the truck on the street. Jenny2 and 3 raced in. "Guesswhowefound?" Jenny2 demanded. Without waiting for an answer, Jenny3 declared, "CatnMartinnWolfy! Theyreallintheconservatory! Comeon!" Still carrying in the cages, Anne, Maya, and Andrea followed, though somewhat more slowly. The conservatory door had been closed, sparing it from the worst of the explosion, Anne noted, giving her hope that the bright yellow walls of her bedroom wouldn't need repainting *again*. And sure enough, Cat, Martin, and Wolfy were sitting at a table, asleep, apparently undisturbed by the rats or the jello. "Guys?" Maya asked. All three of the sleeping DPs started awake. "Don't call me that!" Wolfy protested. "Sorry, I guess I'm just more of a day person." Cat declared. "Go swallow a sock!" Martin told them. And then all three promptly fell asleep again. "All right. That settles it. There is something *very* weird going on." Anne announced. "This is the DP mansion. There's *always* something weird going on," Andrea reminded her. Anne turned thoughtful. "Good point. Well, we'll figure it out later. Whatever it is is probably related to this attack. Let's get them up--" she gestured at the trio of sleeping DPs--"and get the rats out of here before Mary and Tracy get home." Andrea, Jenny2 & Jenny3 were left to pull the DPs to their feet, while Maya and Anne took the last of the cages out. "Hey, Anne, look at this!" Maya said as they walked through the gate. The rat she was carrying seemed to quiver, and then relax, while something pink oozed out of the cage and fell on the ground. Anne grimaced. "That's disgusting! What do you think is happening?" The pink ooze collected itself into the forms of several demons which promptly ran away. Anne looked down at the cages she had yet to carry out to the waiting truck, put them on the ground, and prodded them through with her foot. Pink goo melted out of each rat as it passed through the gate, dripped out of the cage and turned into demons. "How do you think they managed *that*?" Maya wondered. "I don't want to think about it. And don't talk about it around the pet shop people. We're having a hard enough time convincing them to take these things as it is. We don't want to tell them that the rats they're about to be collecting were possessed by our resident demons." Rats safely delivered, Anne and Maya trooped back to the house, where the others were waiting at the door, Jennies 2 &3 and Andrea (looking slightly overwhelmed at the Jennies' chatter) finally having been able to get Martin, Wolfy, and Cat on their feet. The Mountie was just coming out. "Thanks for your help," Maya told the mountie with a smile. He saluted smartly. "It was a pleasure, ma'am." "Can we get you something before you go? Coffee, brownies?" Anne asked. "Coffee would be appreciated. I seem to be having some difficulty waking up." He stepped back to let them pass through the door--and promptly fell through the trapdoor leading down into the basement. The various DPs sighed (for various reasons), and walked back into the house. Maya scratched at the collar of her dress. "This thing is driving me *crazy*!" "That wasn't what you had on earlier today," Andrea noted. They all looked at Maya's dress--and then the dresses on the other DPs (including Martin)--, which, between the house and the rats, had managed to go unnoticed all this time. "Good Heavens!" Anne exclaimed. "Those things are an offense to even *my* sense of perkiness." "I don't know, I think they look sort of cute," SNB declared, starting to hum "Good Ship Lollipop" again. "Here's the problem," Maya said, fishing something out of the dress. "A leaf must've been slipped in when I fell outside." But what she pulled out wasn't a leaf: it was a card with the words, "Venez au Chateau" and an address printed on it. Fin. Comments, etc, may be forwarded to: Anne Jensen (ajensen@west.net) Maya (rainstorms00@hotmail.com) From - Thu Aug 26 20:09:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11K2w8-0004mC-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 13:03:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7369; Thu, 26 Aug 99 12:54:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8110; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 12:54:48 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 12:56:21 EDT Reply-To: Questinc@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Ronni Katz Subject: WAR: FOD: The Wayward Robot! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6c9071002415233d309f6abc2ffeab50 WAR: FOD: The Wayward Robot! By: Ron THE Enforcer Place: The Moose Lodge Time: August 25th around 7pm Schanke watched the cars arrive. Everyone was parking on the street except for a blue Chevy van with NJ State tags, which pulled up into the driveway. "Who's car is this?" he wondered. The hatch unlocked and an athletic looking woman with almost waist length brown hair Clad all in black went to the back and listed the hatch up fully revealing what was in the trunk. Inside was something that also was black except for the huge nasty looking flywheel on the front. "What is THAT?" Schanke asked approaching the van. "My robot," Ron the Enforcer announced. "Actually, I was part of the team that built it. It won for Most Aggressive Robot at BattleBots a couple of weeks ago. Thought everyone would like to see WHY it won! "What does it do?" "You'll see!" Ron hauled the heavy (it weighed over 100 pounds!) robot out of the van and got it onto the driveway. Grabbing the Futaba RC controller from off the back seat, the Enforcer hit the Start on the machine itself and then began using the controller to get it moving. The mechanized contraption looked to Schanke like a black version of one of those gizmos used to dig trenches for laying pipelines except THIS piece of work looked more interested in cutting though anything that got in its way! The robot moved about staying clear of people and pets and the demonstration of the creation was Attracting the attention of the folks who were heading up the walkway to the house. They stopped to Watch the machine move around, it's huge flywheel going at 300mph. Ron moved it out onto the Street to give the thing some room to maneuver. After a few peaceful minutes the machine began to buck and act oddly and suddenly stopped responding To the controller. "I'm getting radio interference!" Ron announced. "Someone else is on my frequency!" The robot was out of control and began going at odd angles in odd directions at irregular speeds. People and pets dodged the black monstrosity. Schanke tried to go after it but soon it was going after him! "Ron! Ron! STOP THIS CRAZY THING!" Schanke called as it chased him down the street. "RON!" To be continued...! Ron the Enforcer Honorary FOD Questinc@aol.com To see the robot featured in the above story click ---> nightmare From - Thu Aug 26 20:09:25 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11K4Ky-0001PY-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 14:33:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6701; Thu, 26 Aug 99 14:30:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9117; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 14:30:57 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 14:33:11 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: The Green-Eyed Monster, Take Two To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 96d5b0b7629121b72d220594c3366530 WAR: Independent/CGW: The Green-Eyed Monster, Take Two The "C" in "C-Day" is for "Chris" by Brenda Bell Follows: The Green-Eyed Monster, Take One: Showers are for Sloshing ***** The Fiendish Glow, Monday, 23 August, mid-morning "Heather! Heather! Where are ye, lass?" Chris sprang out of his bedroom with his breaccan feile(1) wrapped around him like the blanket it probably once was, looking for something that had obviously gotten misplaced. "Calm down!" Pen replied, trying to hand him a cup of herbal tea made from the stuff Lora'd stashed in the cabinets the last time she was up. "Where *is* that lassie o' mine?" he asked. "I've got to see aboot the band t'day, and that *cat* o' hers..." "...Left with her to go to the Shrine," Brenda finished. "That Nunkumpoopies thing agin?" "It's the 1920th anniversary of the major eruption of Mount Vesuvius, so they're celebrating." "Why would they be celebrating the eruption of a volcano tha' buried ain toon in ash, an' t'other in mud?" "Because it's the day that their beloved 'Nunkies' was made into a vampire." "Sae... their celebratin' a vampire who's no' a vampire ennamore? "You got it," the women shrugged. "An' what role does Lucius have there?" "Something about companionship," Brenda shrugged. "Heather's afraid he'll get too lonely without his cat friends to play with." Chris rolled his eyes. "He's got other cats here to play with, not to mention that teddy bear of yours..." The barely-decent man paused a moment. "Come to think of it, where *is* that little dental problem of yours?" "Last I remember, he was in the office, cruising the Internet from my notebook. I just hope he isn't trying to charge a 'Neck of the Week' subscription or anything..." "Why -- does he have your credit card number?" Pen teased. "Worse -- he has my computer." "Really? When's the last time you checked your e-mail?" "Yesterday evening.... and he wasn't there... hmm... and he's not in my room, I don't trust him there... *wherever* could he be??????" ********************** Late afternoon, in the office. "Well, that's the last headquarters," Brenda sighed. "None of them have seen the vampbear -- although they all seem interested in him for one reason or another..." "Don't worry," said Pen. "He'll show up by the end of the war?" "How can you be sure about that?" "Everything's suposed to go back to normal. For you, having the vampbear is normal. You can't go home without him." "Thanks, Pen." The tall woman giggled maniacally as she put in a call to someone at ths Shrine. ********* Early that evening *Click* *click* *fwap**fwap**fwap**fwap**fwap**fwap**fwap**fwap**fwap**fwap* "Kewl!" Now, to save Murron from the evil Longshanks(2).... "Whatcha doin?" Brenda asked. "SSSshhhhhhh! She's about to be made toast if I don't.... DAMN!" Chris stood up, swiped at the keyboard, downed his Glen Livet, and closed the application. "*^(*#^%^%!! Longshanks *always* manages to kill her... or worse... just like that nuncumpoop'll do tae m'Heather..." "So *that's* what this is all about," Pen said, entering the room. "Some stupid, archaic notion of female virginity." "Nae, some notion of bein' honorable an' keepin' ane's promise," Chris said, stalking out of the office. ***************** Somewhat later, in the bar "Ye still haven't figured oat your problems yet, have ye, laddie?" Father Andrew asked. "If ye mean, 'is she still seein' this Nuncumpoopies o' hairs, she's supposed tae be thair noo," Chris answered, taking another swig of Glen Livet. "It's their annual celebration conversion thingie, an' she they're all supposed tae pay homage tae the laird... I dinna ken *wha'* the lasses are up to -- my Haither e'en took the cat wi' hair." "She tuk the *caet* with her? This soands like it cood be serious," Father Andrew mused. "What do you know about this 'Nunkies' fellow?" "He's old and he's a vampire -- 'course now, when none o' the vamps are vamps, that dinna mean mooch," Chris rambled between gulps of Glen Livet, "bu' the lasses all flock tae him, want tae be wi' him... I hear tell they're a' hypnotized by his voice an' start wearin' peach togas, expensive designer clothes they canna afford, an' non-sensible shoes that give them foot problems the rest o' their lives. Ach! 'Twill drive a man tae the poorhouse it will..." "Hypnotism, eh? Do you think Heather's following 'Nunkies' of her own free will, or has she been programmed to follow him?" "I ken no'. A' times she *seems* okay, bu' then when she talks o' Nunkies, her een glaze o'er, an' it's like she's addicted to his abuse." Chris shrugged. He ignored the empty glass and went straight for the bottle. "I guess that's why they call themselves 'Nunkies *addicts*'." *An' you're not gettin' addicted to that Scotch yourself, are you?* the ex-vampire thought. Aloud, he said only, "D'ya think gettin' her away froam 'Nunkies' will help?" "It'll keep her from getting sacrificed on the altar like some sort of ancient barbecue! It'll keep him away from bein' able to demand prima nocte!" the kilted one grew bolder as an idea formed in his head as he drank deeply from the bottle. "Heck, we've been betrothed, she's *mine* -- I should be able to tak' her awa' like they did in days of auld... she'll think it's romantic tha' I think that much o' her, I'm sure!" "Well, I tell you what, young man," Father Andrew said, scribbling on a cocktail napkin before handing it to the young man. "I have a suyfehouse out in the countryside. If you want, you muy take her there for a couple of days. That should be long enough to take care of any problems the two of you need to resolve before your wedding." A sheep-eyed Chris weaved as he read the directions. "Sssoondssh like a plannnn," he said, trying to remember the Metro directions for the Shrine. *There's a chance for them, yet -- if they get there safely,* Father Andrew told himself as he removed a small black book from his shirt pocket and verified the phone number he was about to dial... **************** Notes: (1) the breaccan faile, or "great kilt" is the traditional garment worn by Scots highlanders. It consists of a single rectangle of cloth, approximately a body-length wide by approximately eight meters long. To fix it to wear, one lays the width of the fabric so that it is bisected by a sturdy belt. Then pleats are folded into the length of the fabric. When the pleating is complete, the wearer lies down on the pleated fabric such that the belt is approximately at his waist. The folded fabric is brought across the front of the body, the belt is buckled, and the wearer stands up. The result at this point looks a bit like a double-kilt. Depending upon the weather, the overlaid fabric can either rest as a second kilt, be brought across the shoulder like today's plaides, or brought across the head and both shoulders against the rain. (2) Murron and Longshanks are historical persons who appear as characters in Paramount Pictures' 1995 production, "Braveheart". There really is a "Braveheart" PC game, but I don't recall the correct title, and I have absolutely no idea whether or not these characters appear in it. Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Thu Aug 26 20:09:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11K4Xl-0001C9-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 14:46:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6808; Thu, 26 Aug 99 14:44:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0660; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 14:44:18 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 11:48:04 -0600 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: Let Them Eat Pecake (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a8d09149840846a4cb6b78778b8f5359 WAR: UF: Let Them Eat Pecake (1/1) BY: Lauren Hawes & Julia Kocich, massaged by Les GS. SETTING: The white room, the white chairs from Fat Pete's; yes, we've been here before TIME: Now (Les and Julia are sitting in their chairs, waiting for Lauren) LES: Do you have a good quote for this situation? And not Shakespeare. He doesn't seem to be her favorite. JULIA: Be quiet, I'm trying to think of one. (Lauren enters and takes her seat) LAUREN: (annoyed) Someone deleted all of the drafts of the Feast post from my laptop. Do you know how long it took me to write that stuff?! JULIA: (brightly, quoting) Between the Idea and the Reality falls the Shadow. LAUREN: I can tell I'm *really* not gonna like this. LES: It's just a temporary disallocation in the space-time continuum. (pause) We had to move the feast date forward. It's a War thing. Not my fault. (points surreptitiously to Julia) It wasn't working with the Premise, as far as we can tell. At this point, Nick is not a happy camper. Eat, drink and be merry ain't part of the shtick. LAUREN: And what, may I ask, do you suggest we do with all of the food? JULIA: Donate it to the homeless shelter? LES: That's what *I* would want, if I were a homeless alcoholic. Peacock sandwiches and eel soup! JULIA: (soothingly) You and Amie can do it all over again, this Friday. LAUREN: But... the *shopping*! LES: (equally soothing) The Weasel and the Refrigerator came along last time and are very, very good at following orders. They can pick up all the ingredients for us. (Glaring over at Julia) As for the peacock... JULIA: (Edging her ankles out of range of Les' steel-toed boots; hurriedly.) I'll... I'll go to the zoo with you this time. LAUREN: You owe me 50 bucks. You'd said you'd have us out of here by now. *The End* From - Thu Aug 26 20:10:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11K7RY-0000pN-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 17:52:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2684; Thu, 26 Aug 99 17:50:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0954; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 17:50:08 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 16:50:39 -0500 Reply-To: Cindybre@inwave.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cindy Brewer Organization: http://www.angelfire.com/il/Cindyshomepage/Caruso.html Subject: WAR: FoD: Damage Control 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e28920ce2dedb14685838737b8861b4e WAR: FoD: Damage Control 1/1 Date: August 25th 5:15 p.m. Directly follows the post =93Its a jungle out there=94 Place: The Moose Lodge By Cindy Brewer =93Bev,that=92s a great idea!=94Cindy exclaimed over the roar of the blar= ing smoke alarm,=94Can somebody please shut that thing off?=94 =93I got it.=94Spiff replied as she quickly left the kitchen and headed t= o the small hallway where the smoke alarm was located. Once the alarm had been shut off Cindy motioned for everyone to gather in a circle,=94Are the others back yet from the store?=94 Rav glanced out the window,=94No.=94 =93Okay,Rav call the van=92s cell phone.=94Cindy replied,=94Tell them to = take the stuff to the Deli and explain what happened.=94 =93Right.=94Rav replied as she bounced out of the kitchen. Cindy turned to Kathy,=94Okay,we need to do some fast damage control here= =2E We=92ve got less than two hours till the party and nothing=92s cooked. Be= v, call Myra and see if we can use their kitchen.=94 =93I=92m sure she=92ll be happy to help.=94Bev replied as she scurried to= one of the bedrooms to use the second phone line. =93Spiff,if its okay with Myra I want you,Bev and Rav to head over there.=94Cindy said as she reached above the sink to open another window the smoke wasn=92t dissipating as quickly as she would like. =93Okay.=94The blonde woman replied as she moved to the counter and start= ed to gather the recipes they would need,=94What are you two going to do?=94= Cindy glanced at Kathy,=94With a little luck we=92ll have one more oven t= o use.=94She went to the kitchen table and pulled her cell phone out of her= shoulder bag,=94I just have to make one call.=94 From - Thu Aug 26 20:10:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11K98C-0003sE-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 19:40:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9773; Thu, 26 Aug 99 19:38:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0051; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 19:38:01 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 18:27:35 -0500 Reply-To: Amy Reed Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Amy Reed Subject: War: Harem: Nick's Harem of Wives Sound Off (1/1) X-cc: Warring Wives To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3ec9ea3dafc01c3165c52f85090c83b1 Title: War: Harem: Nick's Harem of Wives Sound Off (1/1) By: Randora, Nick's Harem of Wives, Wife #1 Date: August 20, 1999 Time: Morning Randora looked at those around her then said, "The Harem Wives are withdrawing from the War. Any post involving the Harem or the Warring Wives using a War date after the morning of August 20, 1999 never happened. "I know some have worked hard on a storyline with us. I apologize to them. The situation we find ourselves in has become intolerable. If Mid and the GSS would like to know why they will not be getting the couch back as planned, please ask the Knighties, the WM and McLisa. "I did not reach this decision easily. It took some thought, soul-searching and plain old-fashioned disgust to come to this point. "And so, Nick's Harem of Wives will be returning to our headquarters to await our husband Nick's return to us. Goodbye." She turned to the Wives standing near and made a brief gesture as she said, "Ladies." As one, the Harem Wives turned and entered their headquarters. Randora was the last though the door. She took one last look at the thing called a 'fun' War, shook her head and closed the door shooting the bolt home as she did so. Randora went into her office and used her PTD. She now knew what to use it for that was within the rules. Holding it in her hand she said, "I want a state-of-the-art, absolute impenetrable security system for the Harem headquarters and all of the grounds around it belonging to the Harem." The words were barely out of her mouth when a flock of fan fic fairies appeared. They flitted over the property, then vanished. A few minutes later they reappeared and before you could count to ten, the security system was in place and activated. All the fan fic fairies disappeared. All, that is, except one. The tiny being held out his hand for the now expended PTD. Randora handed it to him with her thanks. In a blink the little fellow was gone. Randora sighed then went out to join her sister-Wives. For them, the War was over. *FIN* YFITK, Amy Dark Knightie; GWDFC; B.R.I.C.K. Number-One-Wife & Listowner of Nick's Harem of Wives Listowner: FK-XStitcher -- "Cross-Stitcher of the Knight" fknight@acnet.net fknight@cyberweb.org - TexDKnght (IRC) Forever Knight Web Site: http://forever-knight.virtualave.net My Football page: http://members.tripod.com/~ReedStuff/nfl From - Thu Aug 26 20:25:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11K9o5-0005Zw-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 20:23:49 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9966; Thu, 26 Aug 99 20:18:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2979; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 20:18:36 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 20:21:10 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Unexpected Help (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a0669c78b4b22dd8c8a09690c65cc020 Title: Cousins LCL: Unexpected Help (1/1) Date: Thursday, August 26th Time: Mid-Morning By: Arletta Asbury With many thanks to two friends for their technical assistance which added greatly to this storyline, Joe G. and Mike N. Joe invented the architectural term 'Asymmetric Kanting' and Mike provided information about the floor plan of a typical monastery. Disclaimer: Miss Jones is a fictional character. Arletta was just showing Miss Jones, the latest Tour Guide applicant, around when Brandi paused at the room's open doorway. She was holding tightly onto her dog's leash, when she announced, "I'm taking Frisky for a walk now. We should be back in a few minutes." Arletta nodded in acknowledgement, as she continued talking, "And this is the Library but all the bookshelves are bare, I'm afraid." Arletta failed to notice the look of horror on Miss Jones face. --------------- In the dining hall they sat opposite each other near one end of the large table. Miss Jones was saying, "... I worked on a cruise ship two summers when in college and some of my duties were similar to a Tour Guide's. I helped ..." Just then Edgar, one of the cats they were pet sitting, decided to join them by jumping up on the table. With a shriek, Miss Jones dove UNDER the table. Startled, Arletta wasn't quite sure what to do. Peering under the table she asked, "Are you alright?" "Get him outta here, PLEASE!" "Who?" Arletta asked, confused. "THAT ... that ferocious animal," Miss Jones said in a slightly calmer voice. "Oh," Arletta said and scooped Edgar up and carried him out of the room. When she returned Miss Jones was back sitting in the chair she had so rapidly vacated moments before. "As I was saying..." Miss Jones began, but unfortunately for her, Rascal chose that moment to make his appearance. Rascal was one of Brandi's ferrets who sometimes wandered loose thruout the monastery. This time Miss Jones climbed on TOP of the table. While Arletta sat looking up at her, she asked, "Uhh, Miss Jones is there a problem?" Rascal bounced out of the room before Miss Jones could reply to the question, so she climbed back down and resumed her seat before saying, "Problem? No." --------------- A few moments later, one of the mice which had flourished since Screed's ... ah... attention was focused elsewhere, scurried out into the room. Miss Jones became a blur as she exited the monastery. Addressing the mouse who was sitting on his haunches looking at her, Arletta smiled and said, "Thanks. I owe you one!" From - Fri Aug 27 06:25:39 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KAxY-0002Mi-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 21:37:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1545; Thu, 26 Aug 99 21:35:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7993; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 21:35:31 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 19:53:32 -0500 Reply-To: Tiff Petherbridge Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tiff Petherbridge Subject: War: NA: "Toenotes' Revenge" (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c0f3a19ac64ca3cde93b5469f57766d3 NA: "Toenotes' Revenge" or "Why it isn't a Good Idea to be Filming a Documentary and Driving a Golf Cart with Your Four Bandmates at the Same Time" (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: immediately after "Unconsciousness is Bliss" Place: C-Day 5K Race (this is terribly late, I know, sorry!) Permissions: Given by all those mentioned. ************************* Tiff just barely caught what had just happened out of the corner of her eye. The Toenotes, namely Trevor conked Addict Christy on the head with the boom mike. "Now that's entertainment!" She heard Daryl say as Christy fell to the ground. Tiff ran over to her now unconscious friend. "Oh, my God, you killed Christy!" she yelled her uncaring film crew. "Dude, that was hilarious!" Travis stated as the cart pulled over and they all piled out. Tiff lifted Christy's head. The five boys continued to discuss, in their own MAN way of how the addict came to be in this unconscious state. Tiff looked at them the way a mother looks at -- no, the way she looks at her brothers when she has to go out with them in public, embarrassed to be seen with them. The 19-year-old addict was now angry that several minutes had gone by, and none of the five guys offered to help her with her unconscious friend. "Will you guys get over here and help me get Christy to the nurses station?!? She could being dying for all we know." The Toenotes walked over, a little ashamed, and helped lift the unconscious one and put her into the back of the golf cart. "I want you to take her to the nurses station and make sure she's okay. If she has brain damage, it's all your fault," Tiff stated still really angry. They drove off without giving Tiff a chance to get into the cart. As they rode off, she could hear the Toenotes arguing as to who's fault it was. "Dude I wasn't the one holding the boom mike!" "It's not *my* fault. I didn't see her there!" "How could you not see her? She was right next to Tiff!" "Dude! You are harshing my mellow!" "Forget your mellow. Somebody is invading *my* personal bubble." "Hey, you have like no right to talk about personal space, Mr. Take All the Cabinet Space on the Tour Bus." "That's a lie!" Tiff sighed and shook her head at the sound of them. ************************* The End? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Get your free Canadian email address at http://mail.webcity.ca/ powered by OutBlaze From - Fri Aug 27 06:25:43 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KB16-0001pb-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 21:41:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0329; Thu, 26 Aug 99 21:39:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8135; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 21:39:03 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 21:41:05 -0400 Reply-To: calliope Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: calliope Subject: WAR: NP: Arrival of the Fittest To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 11921212a2251c8164fdec7fdee5d962 Better late than never... Blast from the past--tying up a lose thread from a war many moons ago. Arrival of the Fittest Tuesday night Nat's apartment Pack Sign was hard to miss, Sharon thought as she swung the door to Nat's apartment open and surveyed the mass of pillows, clothes, make-up, jewelry, trinkets, CDs, videos, VCRs and bodies strewn around Nat's normally tidy living room. She'd knocked, but obviously no one heard her over the blaring of Loreena McKennitt and whatever was playing on the VCR. Luckily, she had a key. "You made it!" Jill exclaimed, jumping up from a pile of blankets and giving her a big hug. A lot of hugging ensued, which Sharon bore with her usual grace. Tossing her bag down, Sharon scanned the room for Nat, and finally spotted her coming out of the kitchen. "Where the hell have you been!" Nat yelled, and joined the crowd at the door. "Beer first, the story," Sharon said, finding a pillow to sit on. "Did you know that Nick is mortal?" "Yeah, we know. How'd you find out?" Nat asked, as Judy ducked into the kitchen to get Sharon a beer. "Well, I came up to do my usual surveillance on his loft and..." "Wait, wait, wait," Nat said holding up her hand. "Usual surveillance?" Judy arrived from the kitchen with a can of Miller Lite. Sharon refused to acknowledge her presence. "I think that means the beer is unacceptable," Maureen translated, nudging Judy's arm. "Yeah, you know, these things have to be timed just right. You can't just waltz in and do it. You've got to figure out his schedule, find the best access, get everything all set up. Do you want to do it quickly, or take some time to gloat, and savor the moment? That sort of thing. Anyway..." Natalie held up her hand again. "Why are you watching Nick's place?" Sharon looked around at everyone as they gazed at her expectantly, and shrugged. "Isn't it obvious?" "Oh my god!" Natalie exclaimed, clutching her head. "Your whammy from War 6! You just disappeared, and it never occurred to me that you... You kept going on and on about Nick!" "That's not a whammy, Nat," Jill said. "She's always going on and on about Nick." "You've been watching him all this time?" Maureen asked. "Not *all* this time," Sharon admitted, leaning down and pulling a black book out of her bag. "I did take some time to finish my dissertation. But here's my surveillance log." Natalie leafed through it, grinning. "You spent a lot of time watching Nick's closed shutters," she observed after several minutes. "Damn things are always in the way," Sharon said with a growl. "I tried climbing up onto his roof to look through the skylight but I got tangled up in the ropes. Batman made climbing up the side of a building look a lot easier," she added with a shake of her head. Judy came back with a can of Guinness. "Much better," Sharon said, taking it from her. "But I need a glass." "We knew you were coming," Jill said, as Judy returned with a pebble mug. Nat sat down next to Sharon. "I accidentally whammied you guys a few wars ago. You obviously never got taken care of." Sharon laughed. "I wasn't whammied, Nat. I feel this way about Nick all the time." "It's true," Jennie added. "She does." "Yes, but you've never spent years watching his loft before," Nat added tightly. "Plotting." "I can't be whammied," Sharon said. "What makes you so sure? Everyone else was? Amy thought she was Janette." "Amy spends some time in every war thinking she's Janette. I can't be whammied because I don't want to be whammied." Nat bit her lower lip. "Unfortunately, it's not quite that simple," she said. "We have to get you unwhammied fast." Nat looked away, troubled. "I'm not sure I can still do it," she added. "I already told you, I wasn't wha..." Sharon's voice trailed off as Natalie looked into Sharon's eyes and held her gaze. "I guess that answers that," Natalie said with a smile. "I guess that answers that," Sharon repeated in a monotone. "All right now, listen to me..." ***** "It's done," Sharon said, a blissful smile on her face. "Nick... Isn't he the *best*?" Sharon put her hand over her heart and sighed. "Oh my god!" Jill yelled, grabbing Nat's arm. "What have you done to her! You put her back!" "He's just so dreamy," Sharon said, a stupid grin on her face. "NOT!" she yelled, tilting her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. "Just kidding," she managed to add as approximately twenty pillows came sailing across the room in her direction. From - Fri Aug 27 06:26:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KCyj-0006Ay-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:47:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4912; Thu, 26 Aug 99 23:43:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2180; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:43:34 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:42:22 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: I Wish I Could Truly Be What my Dog Thinks I am 01/02 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a7756c20d16fc81c0153adff548c44b1 NA: I Wish I Could Truly Be What my Dog Thinks I am 01/02 by Patt Elmore When: Wednesday, August 25, early evening Where: The NA Shrine and Ratpacker Tunnels Addicts used with permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fred the MinPin was moping. His mistress, Patt, had disappeared, after being chased from the Shrine by one of the mean, big men who had moved in. Fred had not been happy. Despite his barking and barking, the man had stood at the dark entrance and shook his fist. The toga-ed man and the little flame-haired woman had looked at Fred, then at the big, mean man, and then into the hole. Finally, the flame-haired woman had grabbed Fred and taken him upstairs. She had put him in a crate, with water, and told him to sleep . . . that things would get better. Things weren't better. Fred whined and pawed at the crate door. It was late afternoon and his woman had not come to let him out. This was bad. Very bad. Of course, since night was day and day was night in this strange place, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Finally, someone came. It was the dark-haired woman that he knew from before the Shrine place. The one his mistress called Caren. "Hey, Fred." Caren opened the crate and gathered the squirming dog into her arms. "Ready to go out? I'll take ya." Caren set Fred on the floor, and the tiny dog took off down the hall, headed for the stairs. They were on the third floor now, the construction of the roof and third floor sleeping chambers being complete. There was some decorating to do, but that would be accomplished by the individual addicts at their leisure. The actual construction had moved to the first floor. Caren pushed the elevator button and beckoned the MinPin to "heal." Fred did as he was told, and together they descended to the ground. Once on familiar turf, the dog flew to the kitchen/lab exit and out the newly installed doggie door. Fred soon came back, a much happier puppy. He tilted his head and watched as Caren poured Iams Lamb and Rice into his bowl. The woman then placed the bowl on the floor and Fred attacked it. "He acts as if he hasn't eaten in a week," Christy noted, walking into the room. The Florida addict opened the refrigerator and got out a bottle of water. "Some party, wasn't it?" "Yeah, it was," Caren nodded. "How's your head?" "Well, it wasn't so bad that I wasn't able to allow Nunkies to waltz me around the room," Christy replied, breaking into a grin. "I think Jennifer's head took the worse blow. You know she ended up being shipped off to Rome, don't you?" Caren grinned back. "I might consider playing with bricks if it got me a trip to Italy." "But wouldn't we have to ask Knightie permission to use bricks?" Christy giggled. Caren began to laugh heartily, but sobered quickly at a thought. "Speaking of shipping out . . . I wonder where Patt went off to?" Christy shrugged. "She's disappearing a lot this war. Last time she did, it was for almost thirty-six hours and she came back smelling like a mule." "Not good," Caren said. "We're moving toward thirty-six as we speak. Do you think we should go looking for her." "Wouldn't hurt," Christy said. "Not much happening anyway and posts are being delayed till stuff can be written and sent out. Might as well have an adventure while we wait." "Kewl!" Caren picked up Fred's now very empty bowl and put it in the dishwasher. "You want to come too, boy?" Fred did a standing hop almost three feet into the air, bouncing off Caren's stomach a couple of times. "Okay, then, little fellow. You're the bloodhound for this caper. Let's go find your mama." Caren attached the Flexi-lead to Fred's collar and opened the RatPacker tunnel entrance. She wrinkled her nose as she stared into the darkness. "I really *hate* this place." "But." A new voice joined the conversation. "Didn't you tell us that the tunnel adventure last year lead you to an encounter with a Mel Gibbers-look-alike and a part in a movie?" Glennis grinned at them. "Well, kind of," Caren had to agree. "But, my scenes ended up getting cut, so it doesn't count." "Booooooo, sour grapes!" Glennis and Christy crooned. "What's going on?" Ivy walked into the kitchen and noticed the three women and tethered dog at the entrance to the tunnels. "You fixing to bug out, too?" "What do you mean, Ivy?" Christy asked. "Well, from what I just heard Annie saying on the phone, Jules won't consider coming back as High Priestess." "NO!" Caren and Christy chorused. "She told Annie that she had appointed Bonnie as HP, and she was going on vacation. And, then Bonnie disappeared." "I didn't know that!" Glennis said, beginning to look distraught. Ivy nodded. "Yep. Come the Tuesday morning C-Day breakfast, and we had no Scribing HP." "OOOOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhh!" the other women replied. "Patt is gone, of course, and Annie is having to deal with Kriel. She is not a happy NunkMommy," Ivy continued. "And, an unhappy NunkMommy is bad news for everyone at the Shrine . . . especially considering who she was talking too." "And, who was she talking to on the phone?" Caren inquired. "LaCroix." Ivy nodded seriously. While Christy and Glennis gasped, Caren looked back toward the RatPacker entrance. "Suddenly dark, dank and dripping doesn't look so bad. ****************************** After traversing the tunnels for about an hour, Fred whined and pulled toward one of the RatPacker installed trap doors. "Is that where Patt is, Fred?" Caren asked hopefully, running to keep up with the small canine. Fred whimpered and began scratching at the door. Caren knocked, and when no one answered, gently applied pressure. It swung open easily. The four NA addicts clambered out and found themselves in what appeared to be a supply closet. A door inside the closet opened outward. Outside the door was laughter and the sound of children's voices. Very carefully, Glennis pushed the door open while the other three women held their breath. The door opened into an empty, smokey kitchen. But, through the kitchen windows, one could see an outdoor party in full swing. "I think we're at the Moose Lodge," Glennis said thoughtfully. "Wasn't Jenny Schanke having a party?" Fred suddenly yipped, and pulled the Flexi out of Caren's hand. He dashed out the door of the Moose Lodge and into the waiting crowd. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 01/02 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 27 06:26:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KD1T-0006kh-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:49:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2561; Thu, 26 Aug 99 23:43:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2166; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:43:30 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:42:22 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: I Wish I Could Truly Be What my Dog Thinks I am 02/02 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 36143087424b79e0f38ac2d458fec760 NA: I Wish I Could Truly Be What my Dog Thinks I am 02/02 by Patt Elmore When: Wednesday, August 25, early evening Where: Jenny Schanke's Puppy Party Addicts used with permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ivy, Christy, Glennis and Caren darted after Fred, who darted through the maze of people. The MinPin definitely had something on his mind, and wasn't interested in the entreaties from the women to come back and get a biscuit. Fred smelled real food. Barbecue ribs, cake, pizza, whatever was available. His little tongue lolled as he ran, trying to locate and attack the most delicious of the smells. What he found was the puppy. It was big, and yellow, and fluffy. And . . . it had a tail. Now Fred, being pretty much tailless since birth, had always demonstrated a bad case of tail envy. If it wagged, it was understood to be available for biting purposes. Fred caught the golden plume and commenced to pull at it. Of course, the puppy yelped, which caused Jenny to snatch up her new pet and begin to scold the black and tan stranger. "Stop that!" Jenny cried, cuddling her puppy. "That's not how to treat a puppy. You have to be nice to a puppy, and feed him, and water him and take him for walks. You have to be gentle with a puppy, 'cause they only have you to protect them." "You are so right, Jenny." Caren knelt down in front of the little girl, reaching out and smoothing a lock of hair from the child's very serious face. "You will make a good Mommy to this puppy." Jenny smiled and hugged her puppy closer. "I have a son and he has a dog," Caren continued. "My son's name is Paul and the dog is Clyde." "Clyde's a funny name," Jenny said, wrinkling her nose. "Yes, and Clyde is a funny dog," Caren smiled. "He sits on his hind legs and does a Meercat imitation, which always makes me smile when I feel bad. That's what puppies do . . . they make us feel good." "Not all puppies," Jenny said, looking at Fred. "He tried to pull my puppy's tail. "I think Fred just wanted to play," Christy said, also kneeling in front of the child. The Florida woman took off her ever present Micky ears and placed them on the child's head. "His Mommy is missing and he misses her." "Oh." Jenny looked at Fred, who looked back at the little girl. "Do you think he's hungry?" "Fred is *always* hungry," Glennis laughed. "Well, let's feed him," Jenny suggested. "We have food for puppies, too. Does Fred want a biscuit?" "I'm sure he does," Ivy grinned, taking the dog biscuit and offered it to the eager MinPin. Fred grabbed it and swallowed it whole. He looked up at the crowd of women and began wiggling with delight, awaiting another tidbit. "That's what I like about dogs--they're so appreciative," Ivy noted. "People should be more like that," Glennis added. "Appreciate the biscuits they have, rather than griping about the box of biscuits out of their reach." "Yes," Christy agreed. "People should be like dogs--greet each other with a wag and a grin. Be delighted to go for a walk, without having a set course, but just for the pleasure of the journey. Not be afraid to stop and chase some squirrels along the way." "And," Caren said. "People should be more like their dogs in that they don't bark about every little thing--but save the barking for when there is real danger." "A lot of dogs *do* bark at everything," Ivy pointed out. "Don't mess up my point," Caren warned. "Sorry," Ivy said, properly quashed. "Look, isn't that Mel Gibbers?" Christy pointed toward a dark- haired man helping himself to some chicken. Caren immediately set out to investigate, with Glennis close on her heals. "People should be more like their dogs," Jenny agreed, holding her new puppy close. "They should try and play and have fun and not bite." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the end part 02/02 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 27 06:26:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KD26-0006IH-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:50:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1299; Thu, 26 Aug 99 23:37:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1802; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:37:19 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:40:48 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: Knightie Detective Work (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3c8cffb5e7c4a611df2aeb14a45fc1ad WAR: Knightie Detective Work (1/2) by Sandra Gray with input from Chris Rosmini Time: Tuesday, August 17th, afternoon Place: the Loft Named Knighties and Nick used with permission. After waking very late due to the late night moving of the caddy, Sandra had a leisurely breakfast (or maybe she should call it lunch, since it was so close to noon). Afterwards, she tracked down the laptop her husband had gifted her with on her birthday and found a quiet corner. She checked her email and then went on the web. Roz strolled over and glanced at the screen. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Well, since we didn't have any luck at the museum, I thought I'd check a few search engines and see if I could find out anything else about Galen's Cube," replied Sandra. "Hmmm, good idea," said Roz. "Maybe I should get a few others to help too." Roz called over Nancy, Chris, Mindy, and Gemsong. The assembled Knighties each chose different search engines to use. Noticing the grouping, Nick came over. "What's going on?" he asked. "Sandra had the idea to check the web for info about Galen's Cube," replied Nancy. "We're making it a group effort." Roz suddenly had an idea. "Nick, could you describe Galen's Cube for us again? In case we come across some visual representations." "I'll do better than that," said Nick. He picked up a piece of paper and pen near Sandra and drew a quick sketch of the object he'd used to make himself mortal again. "There. How's that?" "It's great. Thanks, Nick," said Roz. "You're welcome." He smiled. "And thank you all for your help, and for being here." The assembled Knighties smiled and murmured thanks and assurances that they would always be willing to help him. Nick wandered back into the kitchen and the standing Knighties dispersed to various computers and got to work. After several hours, Sandra found a web page with a drawing that looked similar to the one Nick had drawn. It was a reproduction of a portion of a book page, but the words were in some kind of ancient text. Although a translation was provided, it was in German. Sandra decided that a medieaval studies specialist would be handy. "Hey Chris, come look at this," she said. Chris came over and looked at the screen. "Can you read this?" asked Sandra. "I don't know German." "I meant the reproduced book page." Chris peered at the screen. "Hmmm. All it says is that the cube has to be used during a month with two full moons in a fortnight." "Two moons in two weeks? That's not possible, is it?" "I wouldn't think so," said Chris. "I guess we'll have to search deeper." She looked up and took a deep breath, inhaling scrumptious food smells. "After dinner." She smiled, then stood and stretched. Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Fri Aug 27 06:26:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KDIJ-0007Mf-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 00:07:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5080; Fri, 27 Aug 99 00:05:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4488; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 00:05:02 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:09:48 -0500 Reply-To: Jill Kirby Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jill Kirby Subject: WAR: NP: Salon: Beauty is in the eye... To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 33e3b54094accde9005c1a59b178fd96 NP: Salon: Beauty Is In The Eye... (or: Preface to Complete and Utter Chaos) by Jill Kirby, with lots of input from the NatPack Time: Thursday afternoon, August 26 Disclaimers: All NatPackers used with permission. Really, they to this, thus probably proving the widely believed theory that most of the NatPack is one cheese ball short of a buffet. Mitch Wetmore was created by me in War Six and may not be used, abused or fondled without my permission; no other members of the Wetmore family may be created and/or used without the permission of Jane Credland and Lana Soward (who aren't playing in this War). Other names that sound suspiciously like Really Famous People or the characters they play are just coincidences-- after all, they're just names, and no crossover or RL characters are allowed. *** Sydney was fed up. Up. Up to here. Fed. Up. While he was no longer pink, he was Inappropriately Groomed for a cat of such distinction. These humans came to Toronto, took over his home, brought more animals with them (and not just other cats, but DOGS! The horror!), made hideous amounts of mess and noise, and caused him to be captured. Then, insult to injury, he had been dyed and shaved like a common French Poodle. Sometimes life was rough, even for a cat who had a human who adored him, Kitty Dancer toys (ha! Try to top that, visiting cats!), a large catnip toy, very expensive single-serving kitty food in the cabinet, and a chair that had been recovered twice because of his industrious shredding work. He had been promised a trim so that he could regain at least a little dignity. Had the trim occurred? No! These humans kept on playing their silly games, running around Toronto, giggling like the strange wild animals on the Animal Channel (his very favourite channel, although "Emergency Vet" sometimes gave him nightmares)-- but no trim. This situation could not continue. *** :::thwap::: "This is not subtle," Natalie said wryly as Sydney's tail smacked her in the face rhythmically, the furball on the end cushioning the impact. :::thwap::: "Do you think he's asking for his trim?" Lynn laughed. :::THWAP::: "I take that as a yes." Natalie swooped Sidney off the arm of the couch, into her lap, pointing his rear end away from her so that the Tail of Doom would stop hitting her. "I think we need to stop messing around and get him taken care of." A muffled scream was heard from the next room, and Maureen came running in, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. "Sawon?" she asked breathlessly, speaking around the toothbrush and the toothpaste foam that was dribbling out of her mouth. "Pwease?" "Why have we been putting off going to the beauty parlor, anyway?" asked Lady Angst, who (as this was her first War) was innocent and unaware of some of the history surrounding the beauty parlor. Robyn poked her head out of the kitchen (she was busy making cookies to take to Circle). "So far, they've seen through all the aliases we've tried. They yell something into the phone about how we're the loud bouncing crazy women, and then they slam the phone down before they'll let us make appointments." Maureen whimpered. Natalie briefly considered using this approach next time this horde descended on her in Toronto, then discarded the idea. "Well, then, let's just try showing up. I'm not sure why you think they'll take a cat, anyway, but nothing much seems impossible in Wartime. I think I'll let all of you go on your own," Nat added carefully. "As long as one of you can take Sydney, of course. I have a reputation to protect." She grinned to show she was only kidding. Mostly. Sorta. *** Everyone who wanted to go (and James, who didn't really want to go but was dragged along anyway because everyone really enjoyed his company, not to mention that he probably wouldn't be getting his nails polished and that made him very useful to have along in case their nails were still wet and a door needed to be opened or something) was ready in an amazingly short time, and the various vehicles delivered everyone to the site. Meg was sent ahead. Reconnaissance, you know, and Meg looked harmless. "Hello," said Meg to the receptionist, smiling as sweetly as she could (she hadn't been involved in previous beauty parlor visits, but she'd heard enough to know that if they realized who she represented, she'd be thrown out on her keister). "Hello." The receptionist returned her smile. She competent, Meg thought, hoping they wouldn't turn another perfectly nice woman into a babbling twinkie. "May I help you?" "Yes. I was hoping you might have space for a few walk-in appointments?" "Of course." The woman glanced down at the appointment book in front of her. "We have open time slots. What type of services did you require?" Meg never got to answer, because in tumbled the NatPack (typical-- they a plan. It was a good plan, a carefully devised plan; wait until Meg had actually scheduled some services before storming the reception desk. This was a good idea, except that the NatPack is not exactly gifted at either 1- carrying out a plan or 2- waiting patiently) with all the subtlety of a drunk water buffalo on crack, wearing roller skates, and trying to escape his angry ex-spouse. "We're heeeeeee-eeere!" Betsy sang out in a terrifying imitation of the little girl in "Poltergeist." Jill tripped over Maureen and went flying into the reception desk, hitting her head with a good loud "thunk" (had this happened years ago, it would be a convenient excuse for her behaviour-- no such luck). Debra Ann, infected by the general spirit of the place, grinned madly. Sharon was also grinning, and some observers would have SWORN she was bouncing (which she really doesn't do, and she's not a fan of Mitch, but one never knows who will turn up at a beauty salon in Toronto, during Wartime). Anyone looking at the NatPack would see a group of bobbing, grinning woman (and one man who looked like he desperately wanted to get the heck out of Dodge)-- and run for their lives. "I know who are," said the woman with a frightening amount of venom in her voice. "You're Those insane women with the cheese and the screaming and the infantile behaviour." "Why, how did you ever guess?" burbled Jill as she scrambled up from the ground, kicking violently at Maureen to keep her quiet. The woman's eyes narrowed. "I guessed because I have a PhD in abnormal psychology and was hired to deal with lunatics like you," she snarled. "When customers have sent two receptionists to either a maximum security mental health facility or prison, or both, the owners knew something had to be done." "Wow-- what a great job I can look forward to now that I have my PhD," Sharon said sarcastically. "Receptionist at a beauty parlor-- really helps pay those student loans." The woman shrugged "They pay me a lot of money and there's a great benefits package. I get free manicures, too. Not a lot of openings these days for people specializing in group personality disorders with a sub-specialty in delusional behaviours, so one takes what one can get." "And I," declared Maureen, "intend to take Mitch." "You're not getting anywhere Mitch," the receptionist said, sweet as pie. "You're all dangerous and should be medicated, or put down for the good of all humankind. If you don't get out, I'll have to call security and have you escorted out of the mall. And take that damn ugly cat with you, too." There was an immediate reaction from the assembled customers, and it was Not Pretty. It was downright Ugly, in fact. A whole lotta eyes fixed on the receptionist. A whole lotta angry glaring ensued. A couple of generally very nice women who happened to be witches started seriously considering embracing the dark side just to show this woman what happened when you denied the NatPack their services-- BEAUTY services, of course-- AND insulted a cat. Several Irish tempers started to bubble. Allegedly, steam came out of someone's ears. Allegedly. Maureen, never shy, spoke for the group. "Medicated, my ass, if that word is appropriate for a PG-13 story. You are going to let us into this salon, and let us take advantage of you provide, which we will pay you handsomely for..." Here, she punctuated her words with a hard smack of her hand against the countertop; the receptionist tried her best not to flinch but just couldn't manage to stay still. PhD or no PhD, an angry Irish NatPacker with hormones raging was not something that was easy to deal with. "EVERY service, and we'll get them NOW! And so will our cat!" "Doctor Twit, is there a problem?" The NatPack was immediately distracted from their group rage (and the idea that the receptionist's name was actually Twit-- the irony! The Wartime humour of it all!) by the realization that the man walking into the lobby of the salon looked frighteningly like a certain British librarian from a certain currently airing vampire show (or frighteningly like a secret agent dude from a cancelled virtual reality show, or frighteningly like a guy drinking a lot of coffee in commercials-- take your pick). This didn't freak of them out-- the NatPack may be accused of being the Bouncing Borg, but they do have a variety of tastes in men-- but the effect on certain NatPackers was electric. Betsy, in particular, seemed to be losing her mind-- she began making an ear-splitting keening noise and rocking back and forth, her hands flapping in front of her. Maureen was placed in an extremely unfortunate position-- because right behind the Librarian Guy was Mitch Wetmore, dumb stylist extraordinaire and dead ringer for Assistant Director Walter S. (for "sexy") Skinner from the X-Files, he who inspired a cult not to mention lots and lots of porn. (Whoops! Wrong fandom! 'scuse me...) Faced with two men who were literally both the objects of many of her fantasies (which, of course, we won't go into here, but they probably involve scented oils and baths if I know Maureen), Maureen reacted the only way a woman could react. She fainted, dead away. "Good," said Jill with satisfaction, stepping over the crumpled body of her dear friend. "He's mine, with no redhead to get in my way." With that, she ruthlessly pushed aside the NatPackers in her path, ignored the British librarian (normally she wouldn't ignore a yummy intellectual gentleman, but a woman Must Have Priorities, and Mitch in his crisp white shirt was her current A#1 priority for more reasons than we have time to list here), slipped her arm through Mitch's, and led him into the back of the salon. "Do you think you can do anything about the grey in my hair, angel pumpkin?" she was heard to ask as they disappeared... to be continued NOTE: In the spirit of allowing EVERYONE to fulfill their beauty fantasies, other NatPackers (and people from other factions, too) will be each writing their own beauty salon... um, experience. Yes, that's it. Experience. They'll be writing their own; they'll be titled something like this: "War: NP: Salon: (title)" So they can be kept track of. There will be a wrap-up post that will finish off the story and the individual posts. After all, what fun are mayhem, chaos and yummy doubles of various fantasy objects if you can't ? *** Jill Kirby ** kirby@enteract.com NatPack ~~ ABotCoS ~~ MFL http://jillkirby.webjump.com When it's my turn to march up to glory, I'm gonna have one hell of a story... "Sin Wagon," The Dixie Chicks From - Fri Aug 27 06:26:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KDzA-0000SF-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 00:51:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3141; Fri, 27 Aug 99 00:49:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0421; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 00:49:19 -0400 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 21:51:17 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA/CGW: Lucius and Nicolas's Big Adventure To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2dc785e77788bca66627630924ac9976 WAR: Lucius and Nicolas's Big Adventure Where: The Shrine When: Tuesday 24, 1 AM By MacCousin Heather with a lot of help from Brenda Bell Okay Lucius is my cat and he gives me permission, grudingly. The vampbear belongs to Brenda, and is here with her permission. The addicts and Roy gave permission to be mentioned (and are now probably regretting it!) ;) The tribble toy is being tossed around right now *** The black cat mewed softly as MacCousin was pulled into the chariot. His amber eyes blinked as the chariot pulled away covered in dust. The cat studied his opulent surroundings for a moment and then purred when he saw a loose pen on the floor. He pounced on the unsuspecting writing utensil. He glanced around cautiously. Only Ivy and Christy were nearby. Holding mechanical pencils!!! Hooray!!!! "Mowerr-Roweer," he said, thinking that as much as he missed MacHeather, he was glad she was gone. She would snatch the pens away from him. Which was why he kept a secret stash of pens and pencils in one of the big closets behind the pairs of sensible shoes. Nobody would ever look there. He jumped up on the table and purred at the addicts. Christy and Ivy watched the cat for a moment and put down their pencils. Nunkies was walking by. The women began to drool. *Chomp* They never realized the pencils were gone. Lucius trotted down the hall, proudly carrying the naughty pen and pencils. He jumped into the closet and dropped the pen in his stash. He rolled across the pens and pencils purring. Then jumped into his secret stash of papers. They cushioned his fall and he batted the paper around. It made a happy crunchy sound. He jumped up when he heard Glennis wandering through the halls. Lucius followed her silently for a moment, hoping she might give him some good food, like the Tirimisu the addicts all seemed to gobble down. Then it caught his eye. Glennis was carrying a paintbrush. He took off running and jumped into Glennis's arms, purring. "Aww, sweet kitty," cooed Glennis, scratching Lucius's chin. "Foolish human pet," Lucius replied. It came out as 'Myrhh'. He snatched the paintbrush and leapt from her arms. Glennis watched as her paintbrush disappeared from sight and shook her head. Lucius ran past another room, and then turned back hearing a funny banging sound. He dropped the paintbrush and bounced into the room. It was that nasty critter that had tried to give him a bath earlier. Actually a rat was in the cage with Nicolas and pushing the bear against the railings. Lucius continued bouncing around the room, laughing at the vampbear's lack of freedom. Lucius rolled across the floor, kicking his feet into the air. "So, there!" he said to the vampbear. "Try to give me a bath, will you!" "Lucius," the vampbear demanded. "Let me out, NOW!!!!" The vampbear turned in the cage to find a stuffed Tribble behind him. "A snack!!!" The vampbear bit the tribble and it made a cooing noise. Unfortunately, all Nicolas got out of the tribble was a bunch of fuzz. Lucius flicked his ears toward the sound and turned to face the vampbear with a look of mild interest. "Look what I've got!" Nicolas bit the tribble again. Lucius rose to his feet and got a better look at the tribble , then turned away. He was tired of that toy. "I'm hungry! Need food!" Nicolas told Lucius. Lucius looked at the vampbear. "Food?" he asked. "Yes! HUNGRY!!!!" Lucius thought for a second about food. He was rather hungry and the food MacHeather subjected him to was horrid. Maybe this bear would lead him to yummy food, or better yet maybe Nicolas was food. "Okay," the cat agreed, with an evil kitty grin. "but it better be good food! None of that dried healthy cat, MacMom gives me." Lucius looked at the cage door for a moment. This should be easier than opening MacHeather's door. He opened the cage door with a squeak and the vampbear was ready to happily leap out of his cage, when Lucius bit him and pulled him out. "No! No!!!" the vampbear grumbled. "Bad cat! Bad Lucius! LETGOOFME!!!!!" The vampbear tried to free himself, but it was a useless endeavor. Although the bear smelt interesting, he tasted yucky, like fluff. However, he was still fun to carry. Lucius trotted happily into the closet, carrying the vampbear. Lucius sat on his pile of pilfered pens and paper and dropped the vampbear. "Where's my food!" demanded the cat, nosing the stuffed bear. "I'm hungry! You aren't food!" he whined. The cat watched the vampbear grab a pen and began frantically scribbling on a piece of paper. "Where's my food!" the cat demanded. Nicolas ignored the plainative mews. He was busy scribbling a note to Brenda. The closet door opened, wider. Roy and Sukh walked into the closet. Roy stepped on Lucius's tail. "*&*^_*&!!!!" the cat screamed in fury. "Nobody, but nobody, steps on my tail!!!" "Lucius! There you are!" Sukh picked up the black cat. Nicolas hid behind the shoes, wondering if he had a chance to take a sip of Sukh. "I can't find the MacCousin," Sukh grumbled to the purring cat. "and the chariot and two horses are gone! Roy, we have to find them!" "Don't worry, Sukh. We can split up and cover more territory that way." Roy assured the addict. What about me?" the vampbear cried. "Let me outta here. Let me help! By Jove, whoever did this....." He got a tad carried away. *Chomp* "Ouch!" Sukh rubbed her arm. She picked up the bear. How did Brenda's bear get here? Oh well, she could take it back to the glow with her, how odd of Heather to forget Lucius though. Sukh put the vampbear and cat in the kitty carrier. Lucius stared at Nicolas and the vampbear stared back. Roy and Sukh ran into her room to change into proper riding clothes. **** MacCousin Heather Keeper of the MacNunkies Tapestry http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/ ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Fri Aug 27 06:26:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KGIx-0005Nu-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 03:20:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3575; Fri, 27 Aug 99 03:17:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8741; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 03:17:51 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 00:20:16 -0700 Reply-To: "Shana N." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Shana N." Subject: WAR: DP: How to Unwhammy a Thug in Less Than Ten Seconds To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f8c72aab61b141074f1a11de9b80caa8 ********** WAR: DP: "How To Unwhammy A Thug in Less Than Ten Seconds" (1/1) Place: DP Mansion Time: Friday 20th, directly after "The Perky Ones" by: Shana Nolan ************* "They're -what?!-" Anne and Andrea looked at Rose. "They're whammied. SNB fixated on Shirley Temple, Cat, Martin and Wolfy have Tracy Quote Narcolepsy apparently, the Jennys... the Jennys are making auctioneers around the world cry, the last time we saw June she was considering beet juice as a weapon and meandering like a professional beatnik, and, um, Maya's cleaning the kitchen with -my- lemon scented Ly-Sol." Rose crossed her arms. "So all in all, a normal day at the mansion." Andrea nodded. "Yep. So now what?" Anne rubbed her temples. "We still have to get this place in shape before Mary gets back... and Tracy, oh, she'd-- " " --be mad she didn't get to meet the Mountie." There was a semblance of definite nodding. Suddenly a purple blur whizzed past the women, echoes of "loooollliiiiiiiiiiipoooop... " assaulting their ears. Quickly followed by a chorus of "HeyRoseandAndreaandAnneandheythatsoundsgoodtogether. HeyRoseandAndreaandAnneheyRoseandAndreaandAnnehey.... " "NonononononomyturntosayitIwanttosayitmyturnmyturn." The three "normal" Thugs (normal such a relative term at DP Mansion) uncovered their ears cautiously. "Are we safe yet?" "Is it me or is this painful?" "Yes." "Yes to what?" "Just yes." "We have -got- to take care of this." Andrea nodded. "I'll round up the sleeping beauties and the ditzy blo-- " Rose and Anne glared. "Don't finish that sentence." "I'll get June, too." And with that Andrea scampered off before she got in more trouble. "Wait... that leaves us the hyper ones and Maya." Anne sighed. "I'll take my Ly-Sol back... we can let the anti-germ girl hold down the walking sugar canes." "Where do we put them?" "Not the Ballroom... too many weapons. How about we lock them in the study?" "Poor Mr. Boddy... " The Perky Perk raised an eyebrow. "Still doesn't solve the unwhammying thing... hmm... " Rose grinned suddenly. "I have an idea, just get them in here." * * * 20 minutes of immensely hard to describe pratfall minutes later... "Stop guarding the door, Maya, sit down." The blue haired Thug sat reluctantly on the couch, stirring a still in drag Martin. "She's being insubordinate," he murmured and then promptly dropped off again. "Well, Rose?" Burp's human nodded. "Any time now... " Anne suddenly got worried... what had she set into motion?! Without any further pre-empting (and the clock ticking down the hours until the author's 9am class) a strange chittering announced the impending "Unwhammy Team." Pulled by a pack of hamsters, dressed in a Mountie costume, Burp the pink demon was riding in a mini dogsled, cracking a tiny black whip over the furry heads. Pulling the team to a halt in the middle of the room, Burp waddled out of the sled and took off the rigging, much to the curiosity of the assembled and not sleeping DP. A few moments of silence passed (except for a mysterious snore accentuated with "I'm a good cop") as the little wheel running furballs lined up, taking ranks in some bizarre form of order. Rose gestured at Andrea and Anne. "Door, now." Closing the heavy door behind her as Andrea locked it, the sunny Perk waited for an explanation. Rose grinned. "Just listen." Inside the room, the trapped group entirely unaware of their impending doom, Burp tapped a pudgy toe in a rhythm, waving a pink gooey hand at the waiting hamsters. And then they danced, singing their infernal song as they shook their fuzzy butts. 7.324 seconds later, the DP waiting in the hall were greeted by a chorus of screams. Rose grinned. "Works every time." ************************ (for the "infernal song," see http://www.hamsterdance.com/ ;-) ) Shana, dpangel@thegrid.net the Darth Perk Angel, DP 2nd in Command "There's always a bigger fish." --Qui-Gon Jinn From - Fri Aug 27 06:26:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KGg2-00062z-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 03:43:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3624; Fri, 27 Aug 99 03:41:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9459; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 03:41:44 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 02:51:04 +0100 Reply-To: "Tracy S.Morris" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Tracy S.Morris" Subject: War: Vaqs: it's not a Mary Sue. It's a Tracy Sue. To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8174ed3b182641853489b21883993fac It's not a Mary Sue. It's a Tracy Sue. (1/1) Time: Monday evening, during the conversion day dinner. Tracy Sue glanced around the headquarters of Nunkies Anonymous. It looked almost exactly the same as it had when Felicia used her personal tranquility device to restore it to it's pre-vaquero state. "I just loooove what they haven't done to the place." "Be Nice," Vachon cautioned her. Tracy Sue straitened her Mycenaean Warrior's garb, and shrugged. "It's hard to be nice when I'm not even humble." "Or modest," Immajiru whispered. The other Vaqueros laughed heartily. Tracy Sue smiled back at the Vaqueros good-naturedly. "That's true. We all look great tonight. Let's mingle. The Vaqueros scattered like raked leaves in the wake of a hyperactive two-year-old. She was about to wander away to wreak Havoc herself when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. "Excuse me, but I'm looking for Tracy Morris-Marshall." Tracy Sue whirled, and came face-to-face with her husband. "Tom!" She threw herself into his arms. Several people around her gave her funny looks. It was uncertain weather it was because she was showing a generous bit of thigh up the side of her warrior's skirt, or because she was now kissing the fellow like there was no tomorrow. "What are you doing here?" She said when she at last came up for air. Tom looked her up and down appreciatively. "Admiring the view." "Silly." She laughed. "Why really?" "Our anniversary is this Sunday. Don't you remember?" "Of course I remember. It's just . . ." "I know," Tom said. "War." "Yeah," Tracy looked down. "War." "That's why I'm here," he said. "I figured that if you couldn't come home for our big day, that I would come see you. Think of it as our own personal USO." Tracy Sue glanced at the dance floor. "Care to dance?" "Sure." They strolled to the clearing next to the band. "Tracy," Tom asked as they swayed to the beat. "Hmmm?" The vaqmommy asked. "I thought that I couldn't dance." "Shhh," She whispered. "This is fiction." "Oh." Juan watched the couple swaying on the dance floor. Tracy Sue looked awfully close to that guy. Trouble was, the Inca didn't know who he was. She had to know him. The Inca couldn't imagine her asking him to dance otherwise. For one thing, they were nearly the same height. As they danced, Tracy Sue slumped uncomfortably so that she could rest her head against his shoulder. Juan's eyes traveled from the stranger's freckled arms to his red beard. "Maybe he's a glow worm." "Hey, Javier. Who is that guy dancing with your Vaqmadre?" Vachon didn't even bother looking up. "It's her husband." "How do you know?" "I have story control." The Inca looked at him in astonishment. "How long has this been going on?" "For most of the war," Vachon said. "When Tracy Sue controls her own stories, she tends to get arrested. I think she enjoys the handcuffs." "That's twisted." "I know, and she looks so innocent, too." Juan looked back at Sue's warrior costume. "Not from over here." "Nice party," Tom said as he hugged his wife closer. "It's a birthday party. Of sorts." Tracy Sue replied. "Who's birthday?" "Oh, just some guy." "How old is he?" "Older than dirt." "Tracy!" Tom looked horrified. The Vaqmommy only laughed. He obviously didn't know Lacroix that well. 'Good thing too,' she reflected. Tracy Sue Vaqmadre Vaqs in black leather, flock together! From - Fri Aug 27 06:26:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KIDS-00072O-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 05:22:34 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3798; Fri, 27 Aug 99 05:20:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3097; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 05:20:20 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 05:21:57 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: Re: WAR: UF: Chili, Anyone? (3/3) / Rome X-To: vachesang@yahoo.com To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 85bbfd9e7ba0459d704b401fd33635f1 I'd like to thank Debi and everybody else involved in making me so drunk in the Chili posts. Without having been put into that situation, I wouldn't have had to think of something outrageous enough to ... justify the ingestion of so much wine, so fast. And, lo and behold, I somehow *may* have managed to find something outrageous enough , in Patience and Communication. I couldn't 'a done that without your leaving me as snookered as you did, guys! Thanks! ~~~ As for "Rome," I'm still waiting on approval for Richard's climb of Mt. Tarry. I'll incorporate all the changes and Susan's earlier ideas, and one way or the other, post it, only ... er ... four days after the event . Uffishly, Julia JKocich@aol.com From - Fri Aug 27 06:26:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KJ4y-0000T6-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 06:17:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2940; Fri, 27 Aug 99 06:15:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5221; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 06:15:40 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 03:46:00 +0000 Reply-To: xina@LIGHTSPEED.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Anderson Subject: WAR: GSS: C- Day for CGS To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a68abdf00fde0d6ebe8a102f38e76037 WAR: GSS: C- Day for CGS by Kimberly Anderson When: The running of the 5K on Conversion Day. Where: Outside the Shrine of Nunkies The street in front of the Shrine of Nunkies was rapidly filling with colorfully garbed participants eagerly awaiting the signal to start of the 5k run. Many faction members wore their faction's colors and grouped together in their usual circles though several people came in their street clothes and milled about with a few friends or relatives. Coincidently; amid a sea of black clad cousins, the GSS agents Ace, Striker, Silver, sHolmes and Muse stood smiling, garbed in their black satin running ensembles with blue piping on the shorts and a big blue vertical stripe down the front of their shirts; GSS was stenciled in big blue letters across the back of the shirts. The group occupied themselves stretching and jogging in place occasionaly, to limber up for the impending 5k dash. They noticed that there were a surprising number of rats scurrying about underfoot, including a few glowing pink ones, but the agents continued limbering up, unafraid of these familiar subteranean neigbors. Perhapse some of them were the very denizens of the secret labrynths housing the GSS HQ. The only other individuals to know the location of that secret lair, ofcourse also unable to blab to anyone about it. We'll never know. Somewhere in the background, the song, "We are the World" was playing. As the number of arriving runners reached its peak and the number of late comers dwindled to a trickle, an importantly dressed NA officer escorted LaCroix to a podium set up on a platform beside the NA building and slightly above the crowd. "If you would be so kind as to start the race?" she asked the ancient vampire, handing him a mallet that was apparently meant to smack the Gong next to them as a signal that the race had begun. LaCroix nodded, taking the offered mallet, and turned to stare out across the crowd. A few GSS waved at him and saluted, but the General didn't acknowlege them, apparently lost in thought. The past perhapse. The noise of the crowd died down as his gaze swept over them. LaCroix, suddenly lay down the mallet, evoking some puzzled muttering from the confused and stirring crowd. Instead, he picked up a small, yellow daisy pattern toga and held it above his head at arms length. Ace wondered what the person, who had worn that toga here, was wearing now.. "Let the games begin," the General announced, pitching his voice to carry out over the crowd, and letting the toga drop before him, fluttering to the ground infront of the platform. The GSS agents, thus bolstered by this sight, turned and started at a slow run in the midst of the crowd of runners and walkers that was begining to sort itself out. >From the front of the herd of runners begining to pick up speed they heard the cries of some Ratpack members echoing plaintivly. {In unison, the Ratpack shouted, "Now we know why we're runnin', ta keep from bein' run-ded roight o'er!"} With evil grins the GSS agents began to put on a bit more speed. ----Kim From - Fri Aug 27 18:02:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KMQX-0001dE-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 09:52:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7768; Fri, 27 Aug 99 09:46:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3148; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 09:46:44 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 09:42:50 -0400 Reply-To: STEPHANIE A JORDAN Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: STEPHANIE A JORDAN Subject: WAR:knighties: going to the open circle To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 430c0541b8d687925e9c04c706d40182 ****************** Title: Going to the open circle Author: Stephers Jordan Time: wens-aug 25thers Pre circle Place:Nicks loft/the park ************************************************** She frantically searched for her skirt...It was the only one appropriate for tonight's gathering. She couldn't possibly wear jeans. It would disgrace her lineage if she represented them like that. Especially with such a diverse group being present. "AHHH" Steph let out a loud sigh as she pulled out a dark purple crepe skirt from under her blow up bed. "Now how did it get under there??" She peeked around to make sure no one was looking and Steph slipped off her jeans and put on the dark purple skirt. As she grabbed her bag and walked down the stairs she stopped and looked in the mirror admiring the reflection. The girl smiling back at her had let her dark burgundy hair hang freely reaching down to her hips. She wore a little make up. (Only enough to let the feeling of self consciousness pass smoothly.) And only her circle jewelry: which consisted of her pentacle necklace and her Celtic knot ring. Her clothing was light and airy almost as if she were going sky-clad. (But we CAN"T have that. She doesn't need to get arrested again!) Her shirt was a black velvet piece clung here and there. The crepe skirt danced around her sandaled feet. " Yes ladies and gentlemen the word for the night is ethereal." She grinned madly as she went to put the herb punch and solar balls into her knapsack. "What am I forgetting?" She looked in her bad and took stock. " Orange oil Ok. Journal..yep..food yeah..What am I-"She looked at the glove and smacked herself in the forehead. " Geeez, Trent. How could I forget him? I called mom an hour ago to let him fly up for the evening ." She set down her bad and headed up stairs to the roof. "Ack, Cmon here Trent" Steph looked at the cockatoo and held her arm out. She loved her familiar. Suddenly a raven pecked at her foot. "Ouch, Goddess help me "She muttered as stepped forward and tripped one something "ehh" She stood up and held out her arm again and this time the watching where she was going "Trent " She held back a smile as she held out her arm once more and the bird flew up and on to her shoulder. "Well I guess we re off"." She climbed down from the roof and back to the loft. As she came down she saw Chris sitting back watching a movie. "Hey there Chris!" "Steph? Where are off to?"She turned and smiled. "The open circle, at the park?"I set down me belongings and put on my shawl. "Should you be going out alone? its kind of late out."She said "I can go out Chris, its cool. It s not like theres any vampires out there..hehe"Steph smiled back and Chris just shrugged. "Bye!" "see ya!"I called out from the elevator. Off I was..heh ************ It was about an 1/2 hr before she reached the park. There she was met by the many others already enjoying the nights activities. **************************************************************** Cest tout, Je Finis! Steph ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 27 18:02:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KNIS-0001WD-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 10:48:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5785; Fri, 27 Aug 99 10:45:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0835; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 10:45:39 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 10:44:17 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins: Revenge of the Lederhosened (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d2d246c7ba158feda84e6b8d3a193fd2 Title: Revenge of the Lederhosened (2/3) Authors: Cousin Shelley N., Cousin Tserisa, and Cousin Lisa with input and approval from all mentioned Date: Thursday, August 26th and Friday, August 27th Time: Afternoon Thursday to Pre-dawn Friday Immediately After "Revenge of the Lederhosened (1/3)" Each of the Cousins working on the retaliation was deep in = planning... acquiring... plotting... developing. 1/3rd of = Cerberus opened her address book on her laptop. Having just = attended a Country Fair in Ontario with her two champion = runner ducks before the War, she had acquired some very = useful numbers. She found the page she was looking for = and dialed it quickly. "Hello, Jack Farden's Rabbit Farm?" Tser asked. "Hi! = I'm interested in purchasing some of Jack's rabbits...." = ------------------- Lisa and Shelley got out of Shelley's van and looked at the display case for the costume, jewelry, and prop store = they were about to enter. "Do you think they'll have what we need?" Shelley asked. "They look tacky enough for it," Lisa said as they headed for the entrance. Upon entering and seeing a life-size display of *exactly* what they were looking for, Lisa grabbed Shelley's arm and, chuckling evilly, said, "Those will do, you think?" "They're perfect!" Shelley exclaimed, "do you think they'll sell us the actual display as well?" "Never know 'til we ask," Lisa replied. Picking up the four particular costumes they wanted, they = began to look around for other "supplies" they would need. Seeing a large black and white hat, they decided it would make a nice touch. "It's more suited to a different faction though," Lisa remarked, looking at the cow hide pattern. Shelley giggled at the reference. "Look at this!" Shelley said, pointing to a tiny gray costume with a large trunk-like nose. "There MUST be something we can do with it??" "Take it, and we'll figure it out later", Lisa replied, looking very thoughtful, her Cousinly imagination working overtime. The two women gathered up more toys and props as they = went. They found a large orange ball, an obnoxiously = red purse, and a red scooter that squeaked when it was = pushed. = "I wonder how the others are doing?" Shelley asked. --------------------- "Lot's of yellow paint...lots and LOTS of it" Wulf was saying to the paint store clerk. "At least 20 gallons, = maybe more. And we simply MUST have 'Sunshine Happy = Yellow' as the color." The Cousin smiled sweetly and hopefully, innocently. The clerk grunted and went to mix up the strangely huge order of Sunshine Happy Yellow. = Wulfie meanwhile went to get as many brushes and rollers = as could be found. Poking around in the back area of the store, Wulf stopped and ceased to breathe momentarily. = It was perfect, simply PERFECT! Rushing to the front of the store, the Cousin asked the = clerk breathlessly, "How much, how MUCH??" "For what?" the clerk replied, uninterested. "For that 6 foot windmill that spins backwards????" = Cousin Wulf exclaimed, pointing to the rear of the = store where the anomaly could just barely be seen. --------------------- Rhonda was busy looking around the furniture section of Wal-K. She piled up as many folding chairs as she could = manage onto her cart, and then counted them. "Drat, only 15," she remarked to herself. "I guess I'll have to make a bunch of trips", she said, sighing slightly. --------------------- Meanwhile, back at CERK: Cousin Tserisa looked up as Isabella paged her. "Ah ha! = That must be my order," she said, scrambling to her feet. = She left the War Room and headed downstairs. = Isabella was looking with horror at the huge hutches filled = with huge rabbits that filled the Lobby. She glanced at = Tser. What was it with this woman and animals??? And how = on earth was she going to get that *smell* out of the lobby = before the General came through?? Tserisa went up to the delivery man. "250 13 and a half = kilogram Flemish giant rabbits," he said gruffly, shoving = the clipboard under her nose. Tser hesitated before = signing. She tried to do the calculations in her head but = was horrible with even simple math. "Isabella?" she queried. The Cousinly Receptionist winced. = "How much is 13 1/2 kg Imperial?" "Uhhh... around 30 pounds, I think?" "Perfect," Tser said, and signed the proffered clipboard = with an evil Cousinly grin. -------------------------------------------------------- Gathering up the last of the supplies, the five Cousins prepared to attack. Smiling wickedly at each other, they knew this was going to be a memorable night. Isabella had been watching them load supplies into the = van for about an hour. The rabbits had been one thing = (and one thing she was *glad* to be losing), but what = was that windmill for? And all the Sunshine Happy Yellow = paint?? And folding chairs??? This one had definitely = caught her interest. As she watched the rest of them begin to take the last load, she made a fateful decision. It was 3am, did = anyone *really* need a receptionist? No one would miss her, she reasoned. Besides, she normally slept through this shift (and most of the others too, but that's another story). = Isabella came out from behind her desk and followed the last attacking Cousin out. She was going to have some fun and mayhem in this war too. From - Fri Aug 27 18:02:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KNYf-0004V2-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 11:04:49 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6157; Fri, 27 Aug 99 11:02:25 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6432; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 11:02:25 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 08:06:20 -0700 Reply-To: Shele Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shele Subject: WAR: NA: Mercenary Dreams To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 408890449a84cb151d0545c1ee477228 Title: Mercenary Dreams Faction: Nunkies Anonymous Day/Time: Wednesday Night (8/25) about 3:30am Dream & Filk written by: Shele The Grand High Poobah appears with her gracious permission. ********* It had started as a good dream, a _pleasant_ dream. She'd stood at the parapets of a great castle surveying the surrounding land. Small fires burned without, but the battle proper was over and they'd won. A few bands of outlaws still roamed the edges of the forest and she was about to order her lieutenant to roust them when a disturbing noise reached her ears. Unintelligible at first, the sound seemed to grow louder. And closer. The castle faded away and she found herself back at the Shrine. At first she thought she was atop the construction scrap heap, but as she acknowledged the idea, her point of view seemed to sink until she was looking out from the middle of the debris. The singing was quite loud now and very clear. Oddly enough, a smaller, higher, voice seemed to be singing back-up. [Sung to: My Boyfriend's Back by the Angels] Your leaders went away and I moved in To 'babysit' you everyday If you don't like Merc War, You just don't know how to play! The Poobah's here, you'd better count your petty cash --Hey la, hey la, the Poobug's here! *swat* The Poobah's here, she's gonna take your secret stash --Hey la, hey la, the Poobah's here! Don't pull a Taxi Driver, yeah I'm talking to you, Toots --Hey la, hey la, the Poobah's here! If I were you, I start a-quaking in my boots --Hey la, hey la, the Poobah's here! Yeah, she's knows what you've been hiding Underneath the 'luminum siding Watch her walk in and start spreading all her lies --Ah-woo ah-woo Talkin' 'bout Nunkie[sic] and a dozen brownie pies --Ooh, brownie pies! Grand Poobah's here for some faction integration --Hey la, hey la, the Poobah's here! You'd better get ready for some War-time education --Hey la, hey la, the Poobah's here! \\\\ //// \\\\ Shele screamed herself awake. "That's it! Definitely no more peanut-butter and pastrami sandwiches before bedtime!" ********* End: Mercenary Dreams From - Fri Aug 27 18:02:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KNce-0004fF-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 11:08:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8702; Fri, 27 Aug 99 11:06:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7130; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 11:06:34 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 10:44:20 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins: Revenge of the Lederhosened (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 90f46e9d05e1386ba56f056936490a90 Title: Revenge of the Lederhosened (1/3) Authors: Cousin Shelley N., Cousin Tserisa, and Cousin Lisa with input and approval from all mentioned Date: Friday, August 27th Time: Sometime After "Sometimes the Cure is = Worse than the Condition (1/1)" To say Shelley was upset would have been the understatement of the year. At first, after waking up from the whammying and = various attempts at hypnotizing, she just wanted to hide somewhere no one who knew her would ever find her. Slowly but surely though, she became angry. She wanted some good old fashioned Cousinly revenge. And a change of clothes. Pulling into the parking lot at CERK, she tried to remember = just *who* it was who did the whammying. Try as she might, = all she could remember was a bad Polka band. Sighing, she = decided there had to be another way. Shelley walked into the building, nodding to Isabella, the = Cousinly Receptionist and continuing to mutter darkly to = herself. Isabella noticed what she was wearing and snickered = "Love the outfit, Shelley. Where's Heidi?" = Shelley gave Isabella a *look* that said she was far from = amused. Isabella simply shrugged and picked up her sketching = pencil. Suddenly, something occurred to Shelley. She went running = back out of the building and looked up at the doorway. "AH = HA!" she shouted triumphantly. Coming back in, she looked = at Isabella with a look of pure elation and shouted "I LOVE = THE GSS!!" = Isabella decided the Cousin was still experiencing = some lasting effect of *whatever* caused her to think that = her outfit was fit to be caught wearing anywhere but a costume party. She went back to her fashion sketches, = making a mental note to *never* sketch pink lederhosen. --------------------------------------- Walking as fast as her bad leg would let her, Shelley = approached Cousin Tser's room. Thinking back to her = *experience* in there with the Cousinly Critters, she = gave an involuntary shudder. Steeling her nerve a bit, = she knocked. "Who is it?" Tser's voice called out. "Shelley." = Tser opened the door and looked at the outfit Shelley had on. "Ummm, where's the pitchfork?" she asked cautiously. Behind = her something made a sloshing noise. "Very funny" Shelley replied dryly. "Shelley? Are you back??" Tser asked. "Yes, and I have a request...can you get the GSS tape from the front door of CERK for Wednesday morning? I need to, ummmm, *identify* a few people," Shelley said with a wicked grin on her face. Cousinly Leader Tser had her own reasons for wanting revenge = against the perpetrators of the attack, and they had nothing = to do with pink lederhosen or bad Polka bands. Having = returned from a rather stressful kidnapping, she had found = her fellow Cousins whammied and jailed, and a huge mess on = the floor of CERK. Not to mention the trouble she encountered = in keeping the fact that the followers of LaCroix had been = thrown in the slammer from their dear General. Tserisa made a few quick calls on her cell phone. "The tape = is ours," she said, letting the faintest of evil Cousinly = smiles play at her lips. -------------------------------------------------------- Five of the Cousins sat in the war room, concentrating. = They were trying to find a fitting revenge for the Dark = Perk's, in answer to what they had dubbed "The Pink = Lederhosen Affair", or the PLA. = After examining the security tape for Wednesday morning, they had all come to the conclusion that the only group who could have possibly dressed up in those pink caps with brushes on the top were the DP's. The group had been split for awhile between betting on the DP's or the FoD's, but the caps had sealed it. No self-respecting FoD = would Polka in a cap like that. Well, okay, they would, but it *wouldn't* be pink. "We could super glue them into their own pink lederhosen" = Shelley offered, a trifle bitter because she had worn those same lederhosen in a mental haze for nearly 3 days. "It needs to be more original, Shelley," Lisa told her, = "that's been done too many times." The Cousinly Merc had = been asked to join the group because of her experience = working as a Merc and her ability to think up interesting = ways of exacting revenge. "Let the lederhosen thing *go* = already." Shelley mumbled something unintelligible and glared at the floor. "A pink theme?" Wulfie tried. "Been done to death. Besides, those weird DPs *like* pink", Tser pointed out. "They DO??" Rhonda asked, clearly shocked. Noting = the look on the other Cousin's faces, she decided not to = ask why. "Barney?" Lisa suggested. "That's been done too much as well" Wulfie stated, = looking dejected. "Isn't there *anything* we can come up with?" "Wait...Barney's been done, but what about other = children's TV show characters?" Shelley asked, = brightening. As the mother of three small kids, = she was an expert on every obnoxious character out there. And there was a *really* large selection to choose from. "Elmo?" "Whimzie's House?" "Franklin?" "Arthur??" "Scooby Doo?????" "Those extremely energetic and slightly frightening = Power Ranger people?" "Noooooo...there must be *something* that would fit = the PLA better than those...." Shelley mused, a = far away look in her eyes. Far away. Hmmmm. Over the hills and far away, maybe? Shelley snapped her fingers. "I've GOT it!" she cried out, smiling her Cousinly wicked grin. From - Fri Aug 27 18:02:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KNg7-0003Ru-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 11:12:32 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6208; Fri, 27 Aug 99 11:08:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7594; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 11:08:45 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 11:03:50 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: Knightie Detective Work (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4936bdf18bc477e2a3b66151667e365a WAR: Knightie Detective Work (2/2) by Sandra Gray Time: Tuesday, August 17th, evening Named Knighties used with permission. "Hey, I found something!" said Mindy. The other Knightie detectives, bleary-eyed from staring at their computer screens, welcomed the diversion by Mindy and got up from their seats. They stretched and then gathered around Mindy's chair. "What is this?" asked Gemsong, peering at the page. "Well," explained Mindy. "I got tired of looking for sites about Galen's Cube and decided to see if there were any sites about the book you found." "The University of Toronto library?" asked Chris. "Yep. They've got a copy of the book." "This says access is restricted," said Sandra. "We can find a way around that," said Roz. "Chris, since you're our mediaeval expert, I think you should be the one to check this out tomorrow." "Aye, aye, Captain." Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Fri Aug 27 18:02:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KO9y-0004Ir-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 11:43:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5716; Fri, 27 Aug 99 11:40:45 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1963; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 11:40:45 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 11:44:10 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: Knighties Check Out a Book (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e421700c59f8515b5597f167907b1aa9 WAR: Knighties Check Out a Book (1/1) by Sandra Gray with input and some dialogue from Chris Rosmini Time: Wednesday, August 18th, 10:30 A.M. Place: the University of Toronto library Chris used with permission. The librarian is fictional. The librarian looked up from her desk as Chris and Sandra approached. "May I help you?" she asked. "Yes," said Chris. "I'm working on a mediaeval studies thesis on superstititions and magical beliefs of the late Roman Empire." She thought it was a plausible lie, but hoped that the woman didn't ask for any credentials. "I'd like to know where to find this book." Chris handed the librarian a sheet of paper containing information about the book the Knighties had found during their web research the night before. "This book is in our rare books section. Access is restricted to teachers and researchers." The woman studied Chris, and smiled. Apparently Chris had passed muster. "We don't get many requests to see this particular volume. It's very old." She glanced at Sandra. "Only one person at a time is allowed to view it and only in the designated area." "I'll wait over there," Sandra said, indicating a nearby vacant table. The woman turned her attention back to Chris and rose. "Please follow me." Chris cast a glance back at Sandra and followed the librarian. The woman led Chris to a small reading room and said, "I'll go get the book." Chris waited. And waited. And waited some more. She fidgeted in her chair, uneasy at the delay. The librarian finally returned, but her arms were empty and her expression was distressed. "I'm sorry, but I can't locate the book you requested." "You can't?" The librarian managed a smile. "Perhaps it's been misfiled. Or--" *Or some other faction has it,* thought Chris glumly, missing the librarian's next few words. She paid attention again as the woman continued, "--give me your phone number and I'll contact you when I locate the book." Chris rose from her seat. "I'll just check back. I have other research to do at the ROM." "Are you sure you don't want to leave your number?" asked the woman as they walked back to her desk. "No. I'll call you instead." Chris motioned to Sandra and headed for the door. "So what did you find out?" asked Sandra, when they were outside again. "Nothing. The book is missing." "Missing!" "She couldn't find it. She said it might have been misfiled, but we know it could be gone for some other reason." "Like someone stealing it." "But we can check back in a day or two. Maybe our suspicions are wrong." But that small hope didn't quite keep the Knighties from feeling dejected as they headed back to the loft. Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KOVz-0006uw-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:06:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5961; Fri, 27 Aug 99 12:03:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5325; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:03:43 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:05:28 EDT Reply-To: Knightwave@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: + All Subject: WAR:UF: "There's Magic In The Air" 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b6de4c144c968272f0163112587b86df WAR:UF: "There's Magic In The Air" 1/1 BY: Susan Ellen Field and April Hackett Time: Thursday night, vague on the time Setting: In Front Of the Hive, getting ready to leave for the Circle Celebration. Three figures stood in the night air, waiting for the ride that would take them to the Circle Celebration. In appearance, they were all dressed similarly; the two tall and one shorter person all concealed within long black hooded robes. "Er, Susan, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to wear these." "Well, it was the best I could find. Besides, no one will notice!" replied Susan. "Yes, but..." April sighed. Looking down at herself briefly, the tall blond woman turned toward her friend and glowered fiercely. "Susan, I have to agree with Becky here. I don't want to go out wearing bathrobes!" Her fierce stare faltered, since she knew Susan wouldn't be affected by it anyway. "Yes, but they are black bathrobes! I told you the dye job would make them perfect!" "I'm not so sure Susan," Becky replied, wiping the dripping dye off her hand. Maybe we should have waited for them to dry before putting them on?" Just then, Shan came out of the Hive in a black silk nightie, with an actual black hooded robe on over it. A silver pendant was visible surrounding her neck. "Nice bathrobes guys!!" she quipped as she looked them over, snickering. April jabbed Susan in the side. "See? I told you everyone would know!!" Susan shrugged it off, and walked over to Shan with her hands on hips. "If I'm not mistaken, you're wearing sleepwear, yourself!!" "So did you three bring anything silver?" Shan asked, not knowing quite how to answer Susan, and needing to have the last word. "Well, er, yeah as a matter of fact, we did!" Susan said smugly. "Really? Like what?" "Becky, April, let's show her what we've got!" "Er, Susan, no, I don't think, that's a good idea" April stuttered, embarrassed. "Please Susan, let's not, I..." Becky pleaded. "So! You don't have any silver!" Susan stared Shan in the eyes. "Oh Really?" Suddenly, she ran over to Becky and April, pulling open their robes. April had a sterling silver fork hanging around her waist on a chain. Becky wore a matching spoon around her neck. Shan turned to Susan and asked, "And what pray tell are you wearing? Service for eight?" "Well, at least we are being fashionable and practical! What if they run out of plastic silverware at the celebration? We will have what we need, but you 'Miss Tofu' will be eating with your fingers!!" Just as Shan was about to respond, Lora drove up in April's Dakota. She stepped out, dressed in black jeans, a black silk shirt, silver and hematite jewelry, with a tri-moon pendant hung around her neck on a black silk cord. At that moment, Megan stepped out of the Hive. "Got room for me?" she asked. "Sure, Megan, I think we can squeeze you in!" Lora said. Megan silently took in the others outfits, her eyes settling on Susan, Becky, and April's black bathrobes! She hid her face in the hood of her robe, trying to find her mirth. Megan looked wonderful. She was wearing a hooded black cotton robe. It was tied at the waist with a rope belt and black knee-high moccasins. Her Celtic pentacle, triple moon goddess pendant, rune stones, and assorted crystals and gemstones were secured in a pouch attached to her belt. A ritual chalice, carefully wrapped in dark silk was carefully tucked into the crock of one arm. "Step in Folks. It's celebration time!" Lora called out to the group. As Becky stepped into the truck with April standing by the driver's door waiting for everyone to enter, Lora suddenly realized that her two friends were wearing Bathrobes. She started to say something but the look on April's face silently told her it wouldn't be a great idea. The UFers were about to drive away when Debi, Cleo, Arnie, and Presence ran over to the Truck waving their arms. "Any chance you can squeeze us in? Debi asked. She was dressed in jeans, with a pewter wolf's head buckle on a black belt, and a silver ankh on a black shoestring necklace. Black leotards, black cowboy boots, and a denim jacket finished off her ensemble for the evening. "Well, I suppose we can squeeze you in!" April answered. "It's a good thing this is a large club cab," she muttered and smiled. "Great!" Debi replied, climbing in. Presence climbed in next, wearing a green poet shirt, that she borrowed from Cleo, and black skirt. She also had a silver charm bracelet and silver pentagram, black sandals with thin straps. "I'm afraid we only have room enough for two more inside!" said Lora. One of you could ride in the back?" Lora smiled as sweetly as she could, trying to sell this idea. "You'll get to commune with nature that much sooner than the rest of us." Cleo and Arnie huddled briefly, then Arnie pulled a coin from her pocket and tossed it. "Heads!" Clea called. Arnie caught the coin, displaying fate's decision. "Damn," Cleo mumbled, then climbed into the back. She carefully straightened her black spandex mini-skirt, tank top, and star spangled gauze wrap, and leaned against the roof of the truck as everyone finished climbing inside. Her silver Pentagram flashed gently in the moonlight and she grasped her sheathed wooden dagger, 'Starfire', tightly in her hand as the truck began to move. April slid into the driver's side, next to Lora. Arnie took the other window, her Navajo bells and charm bracelet softly ringing as she moved. She was wearing a full-length corduroy skirt, with a collarless poet's shirt, a velvet flatcap, and low cut boots. Of course, everything was black in color. Her long mane was French braided in an attempt to contain the mass of hair. The whole truck was a mass of black as April steered the truck toward the main road. Susan sneezed all over everyone when Arnie's pouch of herbs and stones released a strong scent into the filled cab. Everyone was packed like sardines. "Step on it!" Shan insisted eager to have personal space back. With April in front, and Becky and Susan squeezed into the back, the rest of the revelers couldn't avoid noticing at least one of the three friends' costumes. They tried hard not to laugh, but a snicker would sneak out with an alarming frequency. "Damn it, Susan!" April exclaimed, "I told you this idea of yours wouldn't work. Everyone knows we're wearing bathrobes!" She glared into the rear view mirror at her exasperating friend. As the group drove toward the Celebration's location, Shan's voice teased from the back seat, "Hey guys? Anyone wearing a plate?" The End From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KOfh-0006YN-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:16:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9296; Fri, 27 Aug 99 12:13:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6183; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:13:54 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:17:20 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: Knighties: Heart's Desire (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e349f6d743106878b7be60a3439bd0a6 WAR: Knighties: Heart's Desire (1/1) by Sandra Gray, with input and some dialogue by Chris Rosmini Time: Monday, Aug. 23rd, near sunset Places: the streets of Toronto, Heart's Desire Chris used with permission. Note: The Heart's Desire shop and Madame Rogoczy are my own creations and may not be used by anyone else without permission. Chris drove her car down the streets of Toronto. Sandra sat quietly beside her. All the Knightie efforts thus far to either find Galen's Cube or more information about it had turned up only a little info. Sandra had a sinking feeling that when they did find out something, it wasn't going to be good. But she kept that opinion to herself. Where should they go next? Sandra gazed at the passing buildings and racked her brain for ideas. None were forthcoming. A sign on a storefront caught her eye. *Heart's Desire.* Right now her heart's desire was to find out everything she could about Galen's Cube. "Stop the car!" said Sandra. Chris, startled by Sandra's outburst, nearly wrecked the car. "Geez, don't do that!" she said, as she pulled the car to a halt. "Sorry. Turn the car around. I saw a place I want to stop." "I can't turn around in the middle of the street!" Other cars honked at Chris. "Go back around the block then." Chris did as Sandra requested and soon had pulled her car up in front of the store Sandra had seen. "Heart's Desire?" she said. "Hey, it's worth a shot," said Sandra with a smile. The two women got out of the car and went inside the store. They looked around. Heart's Desire was a small shop that could use better lighting, very crowded with merchandise ranging from jewelry to knicknacks to books and everything in-between. The place seemed deserted. Then a small, dark woman came through a beaded curtain at the back of the store. She had a gypsy look about her. Her clothing was boldly colored and she wore many and varied bracelets and several chain necklaces that all jingled and clinked as she moved. She smiled brightly and spread her arms. "Welcome to Heart's Desire. I am Madame Ragoczy. How may I help you?" "This is a waste of time," murmured Chris in Sandra's ear. "Whatever you most desire you will find in my shop." Madame Ragoczy waved her arms in various directions. "Jewelry, art, books--" "I'm looking for a book," said Sandra. "I have many books." "The book I'm looking for describes an object of legend, something called Galen's Cube." "An old legend." The woman moved to a glass case, which contained what looked like many old books. She unlocked it and withdrew a book. "This book contains what you seek." Sandra took the book and opened it. "You're sure?" The book looked ancient and the pages she turned were brittle. Chris gasped as they both saw a drawing of the amulet Nick had used to cure himself. "How much?" asked Sandra, her heart pounding. "Five thousand dollars," replied the woman. Sandra exchanged glances with Chris, whose expression was as grim as her own. Neither of them had that kind of money on them. Nick could afford it, but if they left the book to get the money to pay for it, someone else might take it. "Could we leave a deposit? We need to go to our...bank for the funds." Madame Rogoczy smiled. "Take the book. You can pay me later." "Are you sure?" asked Sandra, surprised. "I know you will not cheat me." "Thank you. We'll be back with the money as soon as we can." Sandra and Chris hurried out of the store before Madame Ragoczy could decide to change her mind. "I'll drive," said Sandra. "You read." Chris started reading about Galen's Cube. "Oh, no!" she wailed. "What is it?" asked Sandra. "It seems that Nat isn't the first doctor to try to cure vampirism. The ancient physician, Galen also worked out a cure. He was a contemporary of LaCroix, around the fall of Rome. But like Nat's it was temporary. It says here the cure only lasts a fortnight." She took a breath. "On the full moon, Nick will revert to a raging monster!" Sandra pulled over into a convenient parking spot and shut off the car. "No, it can't be," she said, her worst fears confirmed. "There's more. It says here that when the Cube is used, all vampires within...I guess this would be roughly the equivalent of 100 miles...become mortal too." "Then LaCroix is mortal." Sandra's mind reeled. "Will the other vampires become raging monsters too when Nick--" "No, they stay mortal." "That's not fair! Are you sure?" Chris plowed through more of the hand printed text. "There is another option. The Cube is part of a mage's staff that when put together and used by Nick at midnight on the full moon, will change everyone back to the way they were before." "Including Nick?" Chris nodded, tears welling in her eyes. Sandra bit her lip, angry tears filling her eyes. Why would anyone create something so cruel? Maybe there was something Chris missed. But if there wasn't... How would they ever be able to tell Nick that he was destined to lose his heart's desire? Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KOot-0005QS-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:25:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6920; Fri, 27 Aug 99 12:23:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7508; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:23:23 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 01:21:47 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: What if you threw a party and nobody came? (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 26889eeae14f2cc720bd3805aae8f308 From: "Cousin Raven" Enforcers: What if you threw a party and nobody came? (1/1) By Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com) Time: Wed 25th...sometime around 8pm Raven stared at the uneaten food, meticulously prepared, and now cold. She stared at the enforcers, disillusioned and tired, sitting at the bar area, drinking. Raven didn't mind that, but as the night went on, it seemed they kept getting themselves stronger, and stronger drinks. Enid was up to vodka, and Steve was hitting the whiskey. Raven tried to hold herself together. It wasn't working. "Nobody came." she said. It was a statement, devoid of emotion, devoid of hope. "I can't wait," she added, "for this war to be over. We'll kick their butts when they're least expecting it..." "Whasssssammaaatttteeerrrr?" Steve slurred. Raven looked at him with disdain. Shadowman came by then, noting the sour expressions of everyone there. "What's wrong?" he asked, being the only one besides Raven who was completely sober. Raven sighed in anger. "Nobody came." Shadowman looked around. "You're right. Hmm...I wonder what's going on..." he said, taking his cell phone out of his suit coat. He pushed a few buttons and listened for a few minutes. "...it's okay," he told Raven and any enforcers who happened to be listening, "It appears the situation will be back to normal soon, probably Saturday evening or early Sunday." Raven sighed. "But, nobody came! Not even the Ravenettes who RSVP'd, not the DP's who wanted to start a food fight with the Ravenenttes...it's just a big (*#$*$ cluster!" Shadowman nodded in agreement. "It appears we're not an accepted part of the situation. That's normal for enforcers. Why would they want us around?" "But..." Raven said, "I'm so...disappointed." ============================== I rearranged my (*#$ schedule to be at home when the BBQ was going on. Nobody came. Oh, well. ============================ Evil Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KP4D-0000Ul-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:41:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6209; Fri, 27 Aug 99 12:39:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9089; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:39:06 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 09:41:36 -0700 Reply-To: "Nancy A. Taylor" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knighties: "Time to Move On" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b424ade86b963dd5b3b8f061f0d60c1c Knighties: "Time to Move On" by Nancy Taylor Time: Tuesday, Aug. 24, near dawn Place: the Loft Sandra and Chris F. used with permission Nick sat quietly on the edge of his bed. Elbows on knees, his head rested heavily against his palms. Traces of red streaked his cheeks as droplets of blood-tears welled in the corners of his closed eyes. So much had happened. So much was yet to be decided. Sandra and Chris had told him the story behind the Galen's Cube legend. Now he had to deal with it, one way or another. Two options lay before him. He could reassemble the staff and replace the icon. This would turn everything back as it was before. All the ex-vampires would become immortal again. Could he live with himself knowing he had loosed a plague of vampires back on the City of Toronto? When he had tried the cure himself, he had not known the bonus of turning all vampires within a radius of one hundred miles mortal. How many deaths had been avoided by his choice? How could he even *consider* reassembling the staff? How? His other alternative was to *not* put the thing back together...and find himself turned into a raving monster at the upcoming full moon. The beast would be let loose, and his Knighties, as well as the entire Toronto community, would know the horror of an insane vampire on the loose. Either option could easily bring the Enforcers down on him and the Community. Enforcers from outside. Enforcers who were still vampires. Still ruthless. He shuddered. How to decide? This was his decision, and his alone.... He would not bring is loyal Knighties into it. They had done enough for him already. //Time to move on.// Move on? The voice echoed in his mind. //Time to move on.// Where? How? He felt a seed of fear blossom in his belly, to be quickly replaced by a determined decision. Yes, it was time to move on. Permanently. He had dreamed of mortality. Wished for it. Prayed for it. And now that he had it, he knew what he needed to do. //Time to move on.// The only question now, was the method.... //Time to move on.// Nick Knight rose from his seat on the bed, walked over to the window and drew open the blinds. He would see one last sunrise before he crossed that threshold only mortals could cross...into death. ------------------- Nancy A. Taylor War 10 -- Knightie Co-Leader From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KPGT-0000UR-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:54:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7140; Fri, 27 Aug 99 12:51:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0530; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:51:31 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:53:10 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins: Title: Revenge of the Lederhosened (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 478dda12422a54e2df2c4ba45f698424 Title: Revenge of the Lederhosened (3/3) Authors: Cousin Shelley N., Cousin Tserisa, and Cousin Lisa with input and approval from all mentioned Date: Friday, August 27th Time: Around 3am Immediately After "Revenge of the Lederhosened (2/3)" Tser waited until they were outside the Mansion to begin = preparations for her special concoction. She dumped huge = amounts of Borax and white glue into a big vat with = practiced ease, stirring in warm water until it was the = right consistency. "What *are* you making?" Shelley asked. Cousinly Merc Lisa = eyed the vat from a distance. It didn't look safe. "My own special recipe for a wonderful and amazing substance = called George," Tserisa said. She added some more warm water, = then some glue, then, seeming satisfied, set the ingredients = aside. She picked up a handful of George and it oozed slightly. Tser = grinned, and plopped it back in with the rest of the George, = but not without a lot of effort to get it off her sleeve where = some had clung. "This stuff sticks to anything that's not = smooth." she muttered. "I'm going to have to replace this = shirt." "What's it *for*?" Cousin Wulf asked skeptically. Tserisa whipped out industrial sized food coloring containers = and began to stir in different colors until the white George = turned a distinctive shade of... sort of beige. "Ta da!" Tser said, eyes gleaming. "Tubbie Custard!" ------------------------------------------------------- Pulling the Vat o' Tubbie Custard behind her, huge ladle in = her hand, Tser began the process of smearing. She had found = the oversized plastic kitchen implement next to the huge pile = of pink erasers (still pink and pliable by virtue of darkness) = in Cousinly Storage, and through experience had decided never = to ask what the stuff down there was there for, only to use = it if she had an opportunity. She carefully spread thick layers of the glop on each of the = stairs, starting from the bottom up, then slid down the banister = (which, though holding a gigantic Vat o' "Tubbie Custard", = isn't as hard as it sounds). With a practiced, sneaky step, she entered each of the Dark = Perk's sleeping quarters and spread the glop liberally on = the floor, drizzling a fair amount on each sleeping DP for = good measure. As an after thought, she Custarded the mirror, = waving the ladle threateningly at a pink demon hovering = nearby. It hovered at a distance, fearful of the beige = concoction. Meanwhile, Wulf was replacing each of the Dark Perk's = duffel bags with big, red "magic bags" that looked = suspiciously like purses. Cousin Wulf was examining each = of the items in the duffel bags carefully as she transferred = them, sometimes poking at something in confusion. = Shelley was releasing 250 giant 30 lb/13.5 kg Flemish = giant bunnies into the Mansion, cackling quietly to herself, = "Go, go Evil Giant Rabbits, and wreak havoc as only = Cousinly Rabbits can!" All together, the three carefully dressed Miranda = in a Tinky Winky costume, Laura in a Dipsy costume, = Caeryn in a Lala costume, and Carly in a Po costume, = then placed them, snoring muffled by the thick plush, = back into bed. As they were leaving, they ran into Burp, the Mansion's resident = Demon-with-an-Identity-Crisis. = Evilly, Shelley grinned. "Hey, it's you!!" she exclaimed to = Burp. The pink blob looked at her questioningly. "You're that vacuum with eyes from that Teletubbie show!" = she said enthusiastically. "I just LOVE your show. You're my = favorite character." Burp began to make sucking noises and scoot around on the floor = of the Mansion. Shelley, looking evil and thoughtful, pulled out = the tiny gray costume with a long nose they had gotten at the = tacky costume store. "Hey, Nunu, is it? Why don't you put your clothes on for us?" = she said, holding out the tiny costume. The pink demon stopped = for a moment, and considered the thought. Suddenly, he reached = out, grabbed it, and put it on in one smooth motion. He went = back to sucking at the floor and scooting around happily. The three Cousins grinned. Outside, the Cousinly Receptionist and Cousinly Merc were = painting a beautiful (although beauty is in the eye of the = beholder, and Isabella seemed to be squinting in disgust) = mural on the wall of the mansion. It was taking a lot of = bright yellow paint, and several other shades of the color, = include "sunny yellow", "happy yellow", "orange-yellow" and = "sickeningly cheerful yellow". CM Lisa added a few final = touches in "simmering yellow" and the Sun Baby was successfully = finished, shining frighteningly (frighteningly is in the eye of = the beholder) in the predawn darkness, staring out gleefully = with a creepy (creepy is in the eye of the beholder) smile. = Cousin Isabella pulled the false background into place, leaning = it up against the wall. The three other Cousins exited the Mansion, leaving the = hutches, Vat and other things for the DPs to deal with. = It took all five of them to put the huge, cheesy, white plastic = windmill in place opposite the painted Sun Baby. With a nod, the five of them headed over to where the Harleys = were parked. Cousin Tser stared at the Harley which gleamed in the light = of the Cousinly Flashlights. She began to sway slightly. "Tser?" Cousinly Merc Lisa whispered. She poked the Cousinly = Leader. "Tser!!" "Whu?" Tser asked, eyes locked on the bike, tilting her head = slightly. "Oh!" She went up to the bike and pushed it upright, = flipping up the kickstand with a practiced kick of her heel. "Are you sure you know how to ride?" Cousin Wulf asked with = trepidation. "Know how to ride?" Tser asked, grinning widely and swinging = the keys she had stolen from "Po". "I rode my first bike, a = Yamaha Mini-Enduro 80, when I was seven. I do, indeed, know = how to ride. Motorcycles run in my family." She grinned = evilly and pushed the bike over into the darkness, next to = the van that had transported the Cousins and their equipment = over. = Shelley maneuvered the child's red scooter into place where = the bike had been. It looked ridiculous standing there, and = the Cousins repressed giggles. "Now," Cousinly Merc Lisa said, as the Cousinly Five went = back to stand by the van, out of view from the mansion, "shall = we wait around and help the audience get settled in?" ----------------------------------------- Rhonda walked around the deserted streets of Toronto. She was almost done, and the tall reddish/brown haired woman = snickered a little as she put up another poster on a = telephone pole. It read: MOTHERS! FATHERS!! KIDS!!!! Come one, come all to a = special taping of the = acclaimed children's = program, THE TELETUBBIES!!! A special outdoor taping will be held on Thursday morning at the DP Mansion, 21 Mockingbird Lane.... Brief directions, including a map, were on the bottom to ensure that everyone would know *exactly* where to show up. = In the pre-dawn darkness, Rhonda had plastered these posters over the entire city, right after she had helped set up the = folding chairs for the expected "guests". ---------------------------------------------------- As dawn began to touch the sky, four confused Dark Perks, = dressed in their Teletubbie costumes, stumbled out of the = mansion. "I can't see!" came a muffled voice from within the Lala = costume. "Help, get this off, I think my bike is stolen!" Po yelled. "What are these things?" Dipsy asked. "The mirror was covered in glop," Tinky Winky said. "I = couldn't tell!" The four of them dripped with globs of "Tubbie Custard". Po = bumped into the chairs Shelley and Rhonda had set up facing the = mural several times, muttering what sounded like indistinguishable = curses. Suddenly, the snickering Cousins were startled when a huge green = bird-demon sidled up beside them. Rhonda had chosen this moment to rejoin the others after her poster plastering expedition. She had a sinking feeling that she should have waited an hour or so longer. Looking at the bird-demon, she revised that. She should = have stayed away for good. "Dolt!" Cousin Wulf exclaimed. The the Wulf's smile widened into = something very, very evil. "Hey, Dolticus, see those creatures = over there?" The hot-air hovering kiwi-bird floated over to see = where Wulf's finger was pointing. "Those," Wulf said lowly and = conspiratorily to the Dolt, "are Superior Demons, who mean to usurp = your place as supreme annoyance in this dimension." Dolticus let out a thick stream of curses in a foreign accent that = made several Cousins wince. He flew at top speed towards the = unsuspecting Dark Perks. "Eeaiyararrrgh!" Dolt bellowed, and the Dark Perks let out various = sounds of alarm and stumbled back as the 12 foot green demon = advanced on them. Suddenly, he let loose a belch of flame that = engulfed all the Teletubbies in its sizzling heat. Being made = flame retardant, the suits were untouched... with the exception = of the metal zippers that had melted and fused. "Good one," Cousinly Merc Lisa noted with approval, giving = Wulf a nod. "With all that padding, it will take them days = to cut their way out. I like your style." Morning had come, and now the "guests" were arriving, excited = about the Live Teletubbie event to be filmed (notification = courtesy of Rhonda's flyers blanketing Toronto). Mothers, = fathers, and their wee ones sat in the chairs provided, facing = the Sun Baby and Windmill set. The four "Teletubbies" milled = about in confusion. Dolticus had floated back over to the Cousins and was leering = at the Hog. "Hey, get away from the bike, you Dolt!" Tser hissed. Dolt looked = angry and ready to flame. "Oops," Tser muttered. Suddenly Dolt flew backwards like someone had pulled his plug and = let hot air out. In the most high pitched, squeaky, "girly" voice = imaginable, he screeched, "Eeeeek! A velociraptor!" and poofed back = to his native dimension. The five Cousins stared at where the demon had once floated. "He's gone," Wulf said. "Do you think for good?" Isabella asked. "With trollish flame-filled beings like that, you never know," = Tser said, shaking her head as she picked up Cousine Moses, = causing the other Cousins to step back a few paces. "But if = he knows what's good for him, I don't think he should return = to mess with this iguana another day. I don't think she likes = him." The third of Cerberus petted the iguana's back. The Cousins looked back at the chaos ensuing as children ran up = and attached themselves to the Teletubbies' legs. By this time more Dark Perks were coming out of the mansion -- most of them covered in Tubbie Custard. Although they were less than pleased with the situation, they knew things would get ugly if they didn't do something quickly. "Jeez, look at all those kids. We'd better give them a show = before we have several dozen screaming kids and a lynch mob = of parents," said one of the DP's. Sighing with resignation, another DP asked, "Any of you ever seen the Teletubbies?" "Our work here is done," Shelley announced, with an evil = grin. "One lederhosening avenged." Five Cousins climbed into the van, Cousinly Merc Lisa at = the wheel. Cousinly Leader Tserisa was fastening her helmet, = then putting on Moses' matching one and they climbed aboard = the bike. "See you back at CERK," she said, grinning at her = prize, then revving the engine and speeding back to the = Cousinly HQ. = The van followed, the Cousins within smirking gleefully, when not shouting directions at Lisa about her driving. There were several prayers and much muttering about not having to worry about the DPs seeking revenge since with Lisa driving they weren't going live through the ride back to CERK. (Continued in "George Joins the Celebration") ------------------------------------------------------------------------ From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KPJz-0000h2-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:57:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6333; Fri, 27 Aug 99 12:54:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0857; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:54:31 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 12:49:46 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: Re: WAR: DP: How to Unwhammy a Thug in Less Than Ten Seconds To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 954f5e994c26626c65ca02e6f12627b9 A short followup of 'How to Unwhammy a Thug in Less Than Ten Seconds.' I think this is after the Nother's attack and before the Vaq's party, or vice versa. The formerly whammied Thug Martin attempts to get out of the room to get away from that horrible noise. He forgets to open the door though and the sound of him hitting the solid door the first few times is rather spectacular. When he finally remembers to first open door before going though, he realizes he is wearing a dress. A loud shout comes through the door, "Whoever did this. . ." Words fail Martin and he resorts to various sounds and hand gestures that get the message though quite nicely. 15 minutes and a change of clothes later: Martin has finally calmed down enough, ie. not foaming at the mouth, to become relatively normal enough to notice the condition of the mansion. Dark pink jello dripping slowly off of the walls. "Well, this is unusual." He continues to the downstairs and notices at least a few Thugs are more hyperactive and acting more strangely than usual. "Just another day in the mansion, I suppose." _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KPq0-0002NK-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:30:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7463; Fri, 27 Aug 99 13:22:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3986; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:21:54 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:23:40 EDT Reply-To: Josette@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Nom de Plume Subject: WAR: NP: Salon: "Of Massages & Doppelgangers" (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 79186c0eaf2059643f46782f7feb5b64 "Of Massages & Doppelgangers" -- Part of the NatPack Salon storyline by Robyn, with input from the NatPack Time: Thursday afternoon, after NP: Salon: Beauty is in the eye ... Everyone used with permission. Lilah and Mel belong to me. NatPackers=20 belong to themselves (we think). =20 *** The beauty parlor was overflowing with =91Packers, especially those who want= ed=20 Mitch=92s special services (not *that* -- get your mind out of the gutter, t= his=20 is a PG13 war!). Robyn, on the other hand, just wanted a trim for her curly=20 red hair, and a full-body massage. And maybe a pedicure. You know, the=20 little things that make life worthwhile.=20 Since she was unable to find a stylist who was willing to take on her hair,=20 which has often been referred to as having a mind of its own, Robyn grabbed = a=20 chair and magazine and prepared to wait. That is, until she realized that=20 there was a masseuse who *wasn=92t* currently occupied. When the tall,=20 statuesque blonde turned and made eye contact, the petite redhead almost=20 fainted.=20 As it was, her jaw dropped open. Oh. My. Goddess. "It can=92t be," she muttered intelligibly to herself. "It=92s simply not=20 possible! Crossovers aren=92t allowed during wars!" You see, this particular member of the salon was a dead-wringer for a certai= n=20 blonde telepath on a certain science-fiction series. But since, as already=20 stated, crossovers are not allowed (and since Robyn was relatively sure this=20 was *not* Andrea Thompson), this someone was simply another doppelganger. =20 And a damn good one at that. This salon seems to attract them, Robyn thought. "I=92m Lilah," the blonde offered by way of introduction. "Are you waiting = on=20 someone?" You, the redhead thought. Aloud she said, "Actually I was hoping to get a=20 massage, and maybe a trim." Lilah smiled. "Well I=92m no good with hair, but massages I can handle. If=20 you=92ll just come this way =85" she trailed off, gesturing to a doorway on = the=20 other side of the salon. Blindly, Robyn followed her fantasy into a sideroom for a what was purported=20 to be a relaxing massage. Her last coherent thought as she passed under the=20 arch was, 'wonder how tense I=92ll be when I leave?' *** One hour later, Robyn emerged looking rosy and refreshed, despite the fact=20 that her hormones had been fueling some very non-PG13 fantasies courtesy of=20 her rather fertile imagination. Lilah was to Robyn what Mitch was to Mauree= n=20 and Jill. =20 That was *so* very =85 delightfully magnificent, she thought.=20 "Now," she mused, looking around, "about that trim =85" *** Yet another hour later, Robyn found herself engaged in verbal warfare with=20 yet another doppelganger, =85 err, stylist. This one, Mel, looked a lot lik= e=20 certain technopagan/computer-science teacher from a currently airing vampire=20 show. Only she wasn=92t as nice. "Umm =85 " Robyn sort of made a little noise as the stylist looked rather=20 critically at the curly red hair that fell, in one length, to just below her=20 shoulders. As she walked around to pick up the scissors, she murmured, "yes, it=92s for=20 the best." "What is?" the redheaded witch asked, apprehensively. "Layers," Mel said authoritatively. =20 Horrified, Robyn clamped her hands down on her head. "Never," she hissed. =20 "Never again!" "But they=92ll frame your face, and make it look smaller." Now, Robyn can take a lot of verbal abuse =96 witness junior high. But, she=20 had things to do tonight, and simply did not have time to spar with the=20 stylist. Especially not one who had insulted her face =85 to her face. =20 Straightening her back, she looked the woman. =20 "Just give me a *simple* trim," she said bluntly. "Otherwise," she=20 continued, blue eyes flashing, "you may not like the =85 =91consequences=92.= " Mel, normally the type who would argue, closed her mouth. The implicit=20 threat in Robyn=92s tone of voice was clear. _Do it, or else. And you don= =92t=20 want to know what the =91else=92 is._ *** Fifteen minutes later, Robyn fluffed her freshly trimmed locks, and set out=20 to find a pedicurist. Unfortunately, she glanced at the clock. =20 "Eeeek!" A few NatPackers looked up to find the cause of her distress =85 the rest,=20 well, the rest were too bust ogling the salon staff, or tormenting Doctor=20 Twit. "What=92s wrong?"=20 "I=92ve gotta go! Uunnh! I=92vestillgotpreparationstomakefortheCircletonig= ht,"=20 she exclaimed breathlessly. She turned toward the door, her gypsy skirt=20 swirling around her feet. "Bye!" And, without another word to the assembled NatPack, she disappeared through=20 the salon door. =20 "She didn=92t pay," someone piped up. "That=92s nothing," one semi-conscious NatPacker replied. "She forgot her=20 purse." =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D Robyn ~ Josette@aol.com ~ http://thor.prohosting.com/~nanette/menu.htm Nanette & Associate NatPack Webmistress ~ XPhile ~ Slayerette ~ Xenite ~ =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D Feminism is the radical notion that women are people.=20 -- Cheris Kramarae & Paula Treichler From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KPq3-0002NK-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:30:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7550; Fri, 27 Aug 99 13:27:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5076; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:27:50 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:29:36 EDT Reply-To: Josette@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Nom de Plume Subject: WAR: NP: Circular Preparations (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9e9d1b131ece8270376dd336e29418cd "Circular Preparations" Location: Natalie=92s Apartment & the park Time: Thursday, August 26th, 7:30 p.m. EDT Eveyone used with permission. *** Robyn dashed about the apartment, weaving in and out of rooms, almost=20 tripping (several times) over some of her fellow NatPackers. Every once in = a=20 while she would glance at a clock and groan. She needed to get to the park=20 by 8p.m. in order to set up for tonight=92s Circle. Stopping in the middle = of=20 the kitchen, she began to take inventory =96 out loud. "Crescent cookies and juice, check. Tools, check. Matches, check. Salt an= d=20 herbs, check. Cups and plates =85 where are they? Aaha! Found =91em. Now= ,=20 hmm, let me see =85" "Looking for this?" a voice asked, as an arm snaked up, from the black hole=20 that was Natalie's floor during Wartime, offering her a black purse. "Wha =85 My purse! Where was it?" "You forgot it when you raced out of the salon earlier," another voice told=20 her. "Oh," she blushed. "Oops, my bad. Eeep! I=92ve got to get going!" With that, Robyn once again disappeared through a door in swirl of skirts. =20 *** Grace was not happy. As Robyn=92s senior familiar, she had been chosen to m= ake=20 this trip. Not the bouncy, all-too-talkative seven year old brown tabby, an= d=20 not the dog. HER. Grace. *So, why am I on a leash?* Robyn looked at the cat and sighed. "I=92m sorry, Grace. I know you hate=20 this. But we=92ll be in public =96 and I=92m not sure about the leash laws = up=20 here. You wouldn=92t want to be carried off by animal control, would you?" Grace glowered. *No =85* "That=92s the other reason I brought you. Unlike some other feline I could=20 mention, you won=92t run off to chase butterflies." The black and gold feline sniffed. *Of course not. Only those with=20 absolutely _no_ control do those sorts of things.* Robyn tried not to laugh. It was almost as if she could actually hear=20 Grace=92s thoughts on the matter. Which, of course, was ridiculous. =20 Right? Grace smirked. *You just keep telling yourself that.* *** Once at the park, the short redhead busied herself with setting up. =20 Grace sat and fumed. She was tied to a nearby tree. This was a condition=20 not to be borne. =20 After clearing the area, she performed a short cleansing ritual, banishing=20 any negativity that was hanging in the air. =20 *Does that mean I have to stop fuming?* Robyn turned, and gave her The Look. =20 *Oh, all right. I=92ll stop fuming if you=92ll hold me and scratch my ears. = I=20 think there are little bugs out here.* "Deal. And I=92ll be sure to give you a =91bug treatment=92 after we get fi= nished=20 here." That done, she moved the herbs and tools to the center, and pulled out a=20 mortar and pestle. Once the herbs were ground and mixed together, Robyn=20 finally allowed herself to rest for awhile before the others arrived. =20 Focusing her eyes on the horizon, she settled her back against a tree (while=20 Grace made herself comfortable on her lap) and proceeded to watch the subtle=20 changes in the sky as the day slipped away. =20 =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D Robyn ~ Josette@aol.com ~ http://thor.prohosting.com/~nanette/menu.htm Nanette & Associate NatPack Webmistress ~ XPhile ~ Slayerette ~ Xenite ~ =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D Feminism is the radical notion that women are people.=20 -- Cheris Kramarae & Paula Treichler From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KPtD-0002Ue-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:34:12 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9950; Fri, 27 Aug 99 13:31:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5512; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:31:46 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:33:33 EDT Reply-To: Guenvier@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Debra Ann Fiorini Subject: War: NatPack: Salon: A Mild Diversion 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b8b7d6340bbbff58a81e7b7fef2c730e --part1_2800cb23.24f825ed_boundary Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit WAR: A Mild Diversion 1/1 by: Debra Ann Fiorini Place: The Salon Time: Thursday Afternoon, concurrent with "Beauty is in the Eye..." by Jill and the NatPack. *** As the rest of the NatPackers bounced and swooned and stormed...errr...made themselves at home in The Salon, Debra Ann suddenly had a thought. (No comments. ;-) ) "You know I don't really need a haircut since I'm letting it grow out now," she said. "And I don't really need a dye since I've gone back to brown for the time-being. So maybe I should just find a magazine and keep James company." "Or you can leave," one of the salon workers suggested. "Don't get cute," Debra Ann retorted. "How about a massage? Those are nice," Judy suggested, stepping over Maureen's unconscious body. "That wouldn't be so b...." Debra Ann began to say, when she was suddenly rendered speechless by a vision so miraculous she could hardly believe it. "What's the matter with you?" James asked. Not that he was worried. He had learned during the course of the War not to be worried by anything a fellow NatPacker did or said. "Who..who..is that?" Debra asked, her voice suddenly coming back to her. "Who's what?" Judy asked. "I didn't turn around in time to see who you saw. Maybe you should ask the receptionist." Debra Ann just nodded and moved towards the harried woman at the reception desk. "Excuse me, Twit," Debra said. The receptionist sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, "That's Dr. Twit to you." "Oh yeah, that makes a big difference," Debra muttered under her breath. "There was a man who just went into that door over there, slightly balding but still drop-dead gorgeous, wearing jeans and a navy blue shirt, carrying a comb and a blow dryer. Who is he?" Dr. Twit just smirked. "You'll have to be more specific." Debra Ann smiled nicely and then leaned over and grabbed the receptionist by the collar. Speaking in soft, short syllables, Debra tried to make herself very clear. "Give. Me. An. Appointment. With. The. Guy. Who. Looks. Like. Bruce. Willis. Now." "I thought you didn't need a haircut," the receptionist said, pulling herself from Debra's hands and sitting back down. "I wouldn't toy with one of these women," James remarked as he passed by. "I've changed my mind," Debra announced. "I can use a trim and a dye." "What color?" "I don't care," Debra Ann said, then quickly added, "as long as it is a color which belongs on a human," after she suddenly remembered a very pink Sydney. After a fifteen minute wait which felt like an eternity, the guy in tight jeans who looks like Bruce Willis with his hair tinted blond [think of certain scenes in "The Jackal"] came out to the reception area. "Are you Debra Ann?" he asked. "Uh huh." "I'm John McClane." "You're kidding? You have the same name as the Bruce Willis character in 'Die Hard'?" "I don't know what you mean but I was told you wanted me?" "Oh God, yes!" "Excuse me?" Debra Ann cleared her throat. "Oh God, yes, I do need you to give me a spiral perm," she clarified. "I thought you wanted a dye." "Well," Debra said, slipping her arms through her new favorite hairdresser's as they walked towards the hair-washing area of the salon, "You tell me what you want to do to me and I'm all yours. Just watch where you step!" "Why?" "You might trip over Maureen and hurt your lovely self," Debra cooed. "But is she okay?" he asked. "She's just sprawled out on the floor." "Nah. Don't worry about her. Just don't hurt yourself before you can get your hands on me," Debra said, suddenly very happy that she came to the Salon today. *** Debra Ann *** ** NatPack * N&NPack * Valentine * UT ** ** HeLLLion * SunS ** ** guenvier@aol.com * fiorini@ac.marywood.edu ** webpage: http://hometown.aol.com/guenvier/guenvierfk.htm --part1_2800cb23.24f825ed_boundary Content-Type: message/rfc822 Content-Disposition: inline Return-Path: Received: from rly-zb04.mx.aol.com (rly-zb04.mail.aol.com [172.31.41.4]) by air-zb01.mail.aol.com (v60.28) with ESMTP; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:11:58 -0400 Received: from marywood1.marywood.edu (marywood1.marywood.edu [192.159.104.1]) by rly-zb04.mx.aol.com (v60.28) with ESMTP; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:11:47 -0400 Received: from PC308.marywood.edu (199.234.204.50) by marywood1.marywood.edu (MX V5.1-X AnCp) with SMTP; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:10:55 -0400 Received: by localhost with Microsoft MAPI; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:08:39 -0400 Message-ID: <01BEF08D.475D3BA0.fiorini@ac.marywood.edu> From: Debra Ann Fiorini Reply-To: "fiorini@ac.marywood.edu" To: "'fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu'" CC: "'fiorini@ac.marywood.edu'" , "'guenvier@aol.com'" Subject: War: NatPack: Salon: A Mild Diversion 1/1 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:08:38 -0400 Return-Receipt-To: Debra Ann Fiorini Organization: Marywood University X-Mailer: Microsoft Internet E-mail/MAPI - 8.0.0.4211 MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit A Mild Diversion 1/1 by: Debra Ann Fiorini Place: The Salon Time: Thursday Afternoon, concurrent with "Beauty is in the Eye..." by Jill and the NatPack. *** As the rest of the NatPackers bounced and swooned and stormed...errr...made themselves at home in The Salon, Debra Ann suddenly had a thought. (No comments. ;-) ) "You know I don't really need a haircut since I'm letting it grow out now," she said. "And I don't really need a dye since I've gone back to brown for the time-being. So maybe I should just find a magazine and keep James company." "Or you can leave," one of the salon workers suggested. "Don't get cute," Debra Ann retorted. "How about a massage? Those are nice," Judy suggested, stepping over Maureen's unconscious body. "That wouldn't be so b...." Debra Ann began to say, when she was suddenly rendered speechless by a vision so miraculous she could hardly believe it. "What's the matter with you?" James asked. Not that he was worried. He had learned during the course of the War not to be worried by anything a fellow NatPacker did or said. "Who..who..is that?" Debra asked, her voice suddenly coming back to her. "Who's what?" Judy asked. "I didn't turn around in time to see who you saw. Maybe you should ask the receptionist." Debra Ann just nodded and moved towards the harried woman at the reception desk. "Excuse me, Twit," Debra said. The receptionist sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, "That's Dr. Twit to you." "Oh yeah, that makes a big difference," Debra muttered under her breath. "There was a man who just went into that door over there, slightly balding but still drop-dead gorgeous, wearing jeans and a navy blue shirt, carrying a comb and a blow dryer. Who is he?" Dr. Twit just smirked. "You'll have to be more specific." Debra Ann smiled nicely and then leaned over and grabbed the receptionist by the collar. Speaking in soft, short syllables, Debra tried to make herself very clear. "Give. Me. An. Appointment. With. The. Guy. Who. Looks. Like. Bruce. Willis. Now." "I thought you didn't need a haircut," the receptionist said, pulling herself from Debra's hands and sitting back down. "I wouldn't toy with one of these women," James remarked as he passed by. "I've changed my mind," Debra announced. "I can use a trim and a dye." "What color?" "I don't care," Debra Ann said, then quickly added, "as long as it is a color which belongs on a human," after she suddenly remembered a very pink Sydney. After a fifteen minute wait which felt like an eternity, the guy in tight jeans who looks like Bruce Willis with his hair tinted blond [think of certain scenes in "The Jackal"] came out to the reception area. "Are you Debra Ann?" he asked. "Uh huh." "I'm John McClane." "You're kidding? You have the same name as the Bruce Willis character in 'Die Hard'?" "I don't know what you mean but I was told you wanted me?" "Oh God, yes!" "Excuse me?" Debra Ann cleared her throat. "Oh God, yes, I do need you to give me a spiral perm," she clarified. "I thought you wanted a dye." "Well," Debra said, slipping her arms through her new favorite hairdresser's as they walked towards the hair-washing area of the salon, "You tell me what you want to do to me and I'm all yours. Just watch where you step!" "Why?" "You might trip over Maureen and hurt your lovely self," Debra cooed. "But is she okay?" he asked. "She's just sprawled out on the floor." "Nah. Don't worry about her. Just don't hurt yourself before you can get your hands on me," Debra said, suddenly very happy that she came to the Salon today. *** Debra Ann *** ** NatPack * N&NPack * Valentine * UT ** ** HeLLLion * SunS ** ** guenvier@aol.com * fiorini@ac.marywood.edu ** webpage: http://hometown.aol.com/guenvier/guenvierfk.htm --part1_2800cb23.24f825ed_boundary-- From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:43 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KS3B-0001T5-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 15:52:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8160; Fri, 27 Aug 99 15:50:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6129; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 15:50:03 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:51:51 MDT Reply-To: Meg Anderson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Meg Anderson Subject: War: NP: Salon: Friends Help You Move... To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 423d4aa87827c739a1f37e310eb706b5 Friends Help You Move, Real Friends Send You Cute Masseurs by Meg Anderson. All real people are used with permission. Christopher is mine. Bwahahaha! *** As several Natpackers descended upon the back of the salon, Meg poked Maureen with her foot. "Hey, Mo, get up." Mo, stirred, blinked and appeared to get ahold of herself. "Help?" She asked James, and he came over and helped her up. They both wandered deeper into the salon, Mo muttering about finding Librarian Guy and James simply attempting to get away from the now-*very*-upset Dr. Twit, who was screaming at the gaggle of 'Packers as they went into the salon. Most of them ignored her. Finally the receptionist gave in and slumped into her chair, sobbing. Meg remained at the front of the salon, watching the receptionist weep. //Oh well. I should've expected as much.// She turned her attention to the rest of the salon. There was so much to do! How could she choose just one thing? //Well, I don't want to cut my hair. That's one less,// she thought, fingering her longish wavy brown hair. "Excuse me," a low voice murmured as a finger tapped her on the shoulder. Meg turned around, and her jaw dropped. //Emerald coloured eyes. Oh. My. God.// "That young lady," the man pointed at Melissa, who winked and waved at Meg, "told me you might appreciate a massage." The man smiled at her angelically and raised an eyebrow, and Meg (who at that point wouldn't have noticed if a flock of flamingoes came in for dye jobs) almost collapsed. The last sentence was lost; and the chances of her remembering the first was minimal. //An angel in black jeans. Who would've thought?// The reason for Meg's shock was that the *incredibly* beautiful young man bore an identical-twinnish resemblance to a certain one-armed Rat, seen far too rarely on the X-Files. //He's got both arms though,// she noticed, as he laced his fingers together, waiting for her to respond. //Oh!// "I . . . I beg your pardon?" Meg stammered, gazing at his beautiful eyes. He grinned. "Would you like a massage?" //*Yes*!!!! Yesyesyesyesyesyes!!!!// She beamed. "I'd love one." ************ After a wonderful - and *far* too short - massage, Meg blissfully returned to the small clump of Packers that was gathering near the entry-hall of the salon. Dr. Twit was still crying, and was still being largely ignored by the populace. Jill noticed her looking blearily euphoric and smiled. "Good?" "Better than good. Heaven. Heaven with an angel." Meg grinned blankly. "He's got magic fingers." Melissa came up behind Meg, shaking her newly-cut and curled hair. "What do you think? Didn't Matt do an incredible job?" Meg turned and bounced at her friend. "You look lovely! You're lovely! Christopher said you sent him to me in the first place!" "Well, it's not like he didn't want to, you know." Melissa grinned at her friend. They began buisily exchanging details of their experiences (oh, you *know* what I mean!) as they waited for the rest of the Pack to finish up. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KSQZ-0002mD-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 16:16:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8278; Fri, 27 Aug 99 16:10:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8014; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 16:10:14 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 16:10:46 -0400 Reply-To: Maureen Wynn Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Maureen Wynn Subject: WAR: NP: Salon: All Wrapped Up To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4abd97854dcdfd44a50003a3bfdd348c WAR Story: NP: Salon: All Wrapped Up By: Maureen the Mad , with a little help from her hormones and obsessions Place: The Salon Time: after "Salon: Beauty Is In The Eye..." Maureen was still light-headed from having been unconscious for so long, and she leaned on James for support, but she forged determinedly onward in her search. James, on the other hand, just kept looking backward over his shoulder, worrying that Dr. Twit was going to come after them and evict them from the premises. Maureen poked her head into each cubicle that they passed, searching for The One. "Hello?" "MMMMmmmmmm...?" Meg said, looking blissfully boneless on the massage table. "Nope, not that room..." Maureen muttered, moving on. "Anyone here...?" Mo called into another room, then retreated from the babble of voices of several NatPackers being shampooed in preparation for their haircuts. Not there, either. She sighed, despairing. Maybe it wasn't real. Maybe He had just been an hallucination, a vision? She moved on, regardless - a true obsessive never gives up! At one room, she lost James. A look of utter rapture settled over his face, and he stumbled into a brightly-lit room as if ascending into heaven. "Claudia?" he asked dazedly. "No, my name is Suzan. Are you scheduled for a massage...?" Maureen moved on, James' "YES!" ringing in her ears. Shaking her head slightly to see if that would help the ringing, she moved down another corridor, and down some stairs, following the sound of running water. She entered a room with several large tubs half-filled with... mud? She poked one finger into a tub just to be positive - yep, that sure enough was mud. "Some people are just *weird*," Maureen muttered, and turned to follow her quest elsewhere. "Hullo? Can I help you?" a voice with a British accent called from an inner room that Maureen hadn't noticed, and a man came out, wiping his hands on a towel. "Ahhmnuhhh!" Maureen said, the power of rational speech having been wrested from her at the sight of the tall man who looked remarkably like a tweedy librarian. "Yes?" he said, puzzled, but smiling slightly. Maureen grinned back at him, starting to feel light-headed again, and swaying slightly. "Do you have an appointment?" he asked. Maureen nodded vigorously, not trusting herself to speak. "For a mud bath?" he asked, indicating the large tubs. Maureen shook her head slowly - not even for *him* would she immerse herself in that stuff. "Ahh, you must be here for a wrap!" he said with a big smile, delighted that he'd figured it out. "A... wrap? Yeah, I guess so..." Maureen ventured, still not sure what she was being offered. He seemed to understand her hesitation - not to mention her unsteadiness - because he took her arm and started to lead her toward the other room, explaining, "Oh, your skin will feel *so* wonderful afterward! You see, first we rub you down all over with the special salt solution, then we wrap you in seaweed, then cover it all with plastic wrap. After you're unwrapped, your skin will feel so good, all soft and moisturized..." As they entered the room, Maureen's voice could be heard to say, "*All* over??" * * * * * * * * * Several coiffed, rubbed, manicured, polished and styled NatPackers were gathered in the lobby of the salon, waiting for the rest of their friends to be finished with their various stylings, when Maureen drifted through the doorway, escorted by a tall Englishman. Several 'Packers gasped, but this time, no one fainted. Mel approached the pair. "Giles...?" she asked. He looked confused. "You know, she kept calling me that, too," he said, indicating the silently grinning redhead. "My name is Adam." "Ah, yes, sorry - you're just a dead-ringer for... Never mind," Mel said, taking Maureen's arm from his grasp gently, and leading her toward the group. "Say good-bye to the nice man, Maureen." "Grahthruptybbthhh! Prwad gyrthgyd!" she blithered, turning around to wave to Adam, then walked backward to keep him in sight as long as possible as she was towed away. Mel interrupted Maureen's blissful distraction to ask, "Have you paid for your beauty treatment yet?" Still grinning dementedly, Maureen dug into her purse to find her wallet. Pulling her cash out, she thrust it all at Mel. Still gazing in the direction where Adam had disappeared, she sighed, broke but exceedingly satisfied. "*All* over!" she burbled happily. From - Fri Aug 27 18:07:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KU40-0007Ss-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 18:01:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0335; Fri, 27 Aug 99 17:59:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3528; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 17:59:27 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 16:09:03 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Mary Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: DP: Sticky, Sweet Vangeance (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4bfdec16c1c32bc988336bd438ed3bbb WAR: DP: Sticky, Sweet Vengeance (1/1) Place: The UFers Hive Time: Thursday 26 August, noonish By: Cousin Mary "Ha ha! Now I'll taste sweet vengeance!" Mary looked up as the DP's caravan came up in front of the UFer's Hive and cackled evilly. Ren looked at her friend with surprise, "When did you learn to cackle?" "Bugs Bunny cartoons," Mary shrugged, "Witch Hazel was cool." "Ri-ght," Ren nodded slowly, then turned to Rose who was somehow keeping the antique water pump truck she'd gotten their local volunteer fire department to loan them on the road. "Where'd you learn to drive something like this anyway?" The Renfaire refugee slapped clutch with her boot and smiled evilly at her, "You probably don't want to know." Stuck between two obvious nutballs, Ren started to worry, but then decided it'd be more fun to join them. "This is going to be a blast!" As the numerous Tauruses, the Pinkmobile and the pump all screeched to a halt outside the Hive, Mary, DP Godmommy, indulged in a little flashback (in order to explain -why- we're doing this ;-) >>>>>>>>>Flashback to Tuesday Night, after an ill-fated Chili Cookout at the Hive<<<<<<<<<<< The DP stared down at their beloved Godmommy, who now lay unconscious on the steps of DP Mansion, they pulled her into the hall. "Oh my god!" Rose's hand flew to her mouth as she saw how the fiends had dressed her friend. A cowboy hat sat on her blonde head. She was dressed in a gawd awful orange fringed shirt and nasty Wrangler blue jeans. A large gold-colored belt buckle proclaiming "They Grow 'Em Big in Texas" glittered from waist and bright red cowboy boots were strapped on her feet. All in all the effect was terrifying to anyone with any musical taste at all. "Look at her arms!" Carly shrieked, her spiked dog collar bracelets rattling as she pointed. Hennaed on her right and left arms respectively were "GARTH #1 FAN" and "GARTH FOREVER." "We have to get those off before she wakes up!" Carly spun and shook Eric, "Don't you understand?! She'll lop them off!" Eric raised an eyebrow at the dramatics but then remembered they were talking about Mary, a girl who once walked two miles in the pouring rain to avoid a car ride with K-Hick on the radio. "Henna comes off with mineral oil doesn't it?" He asked. "Yeah!" Rose nodded and Eric ran off to get some. Suddenly Mary began to stir. "Wha-what?" She sat up slowly, trying not to jostle her aching head, but then she looked down at herself. "No Mary!" Carly leapt forward, covering her eyes. "Don't look!" But it was too late, she'd already seen. "AAAhhhhcccccccckkkkk!!!!!" Mary leapt up, screaming and started stripping off the terrible clothes. "Get them off! Get them OFF!" Eric came back in, saw the near naked godmommy, but didn't comment. When she noticed the henna tattoos and started screaming for a sand blaster, he opened the cap of the oil and sprayed her down. Soon everyone in the hall was covered in mineral oil. Everyone was slipping and sliding, the demons were body surfing, but at least Mary had stopped screaming. "Reznor!" Mary bellowed, "Someone turn on some Trent Reznor!" From somewhere on the second floor a loud blast of Nine Inch Nails echoed down. "Ah," She sighed happily, finally getting the terrible after taste of country music was out of her ears. She looked down at herself, her dark pink underwear plastered to her with oil and said, "Well, unless Lacroix is here, I think I'm going to take a shower." She waited expectantly for a few seconds, but he didn't appear. She sighed and started trudging up the steps towards her room. "Oh, by the way." At the top though she turned back and addressed the Thugs, "We -will- be getting revenge on the UF." And with that she disappeared into her room. On the ground floor Rose, Carly and Eric shuddered. They sure didn't envy the UF. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Back to Thursday<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< The Thugs milled around for a minute as everyone got set up. Carly hit the CD player and stared blasting Korn's 'Freak on a Leash' as loud as it'd go. "Everything ready?" Rose called up over the din as Ren aimed the hose and prepared to shoot. "Yep! Let her rip!" Ren called out, laughing madly as Eric and Mary worked the pumps. Soon a heavy spray of watered down honey shot through the air and began to coat the hive. As the walls were liberally coated, the other DPs laughed and danced around the Hive in the afternoon sun... shredding feather pillows as they went. When they were done the Hive was thoroughly coated with honey and feathers, and as they drove away the summer sun was well on it's way to baking it on beautifully. "Sweet, sticky vengeance!" The DP whooped, waving back at the Hive as the drove off to Buckstars. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Comments to anteros@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Fri Aug 27 19:32:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KVSH-0003E7-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 19:30:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2941; Fri, 27 Aug 99 19:28:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0329; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 19:28:33 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 16:32:51 -0700 Reply-To: Cousin Tserisa Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Tserisa Subject: War: Cuz: George Joins the Celebration 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d78d6993b2f595669d61991bfb0ca3c8 Title: George Joins the Celebration Time: Friday morning, right after "Revenge of the Lederhosened" Place: CERK Lobby By Cousin Shelley , and Cousin Tser , with permission and input from all included. * * * * * * Coming back into CERK about 8 AM, the Cousins were all in a *very* good mood (as most Cousins tend to be after an attack). The Cousins that had taken the van were particularly happy, having survived Lisa's driving. Laughing and joking, they fell into chairs in the Cousin Lobby to rest and discuss the early morning adventure. Isabella went back to her receptionist post, hoping no one had noticed her lengthy absence. "I can't believe the sounds they made after Dolticus melted them!" Cousin Wulf said laughing. "And what about when they figured out who they were dressed up like?" Isabella snickered. "And when the kids all arrived!" Lisa burst out laughing. "Well, I've got to go check my messages and see what's on tap for tomorrow. See you all later," she called to the other five. "Hey, what about all that lovely George, or, uh, *Tubbie Custard*??" Shelley giggled. Then, getting an I-love-trouble look in her eyes, she got up and went over to a large bucket of clean, white George they had brought back with them. "Uh, Shelley? I don't like that look on your fa--" Tser began, only to be cut off. "GEORGE FIGHT!!!!!!!" screamed Shelley. The others dove for cover as the first glob was tossed. Scooping it up off the floor, Wulf threw it back in Shelley's general direction. Unfortunately, Shelley ducked down and it hit Isabella on the shoulder. Isabella, behind the receptionist desk, got a murderous look in her eye. She dove for the bucket of George and shot off a glob at random. It hit Rhonda in the back, who promptly grabbed a personal glob of the substance and fired. Cousinly Merc Lisa was attempting to escape, but she hadn't *quite* made it to the elevator as a bit of George, tossed by Tserisa, winged her ear. The next blop hit her square in the back. She pressed buttons with one hand and tried to wipe off the George with the other, which she discovered needed several more joints than she had possession of. She got into the elevator muttering about childish Cousinly antics. What ensued was as close to mayhem as anything at CERK ever gets. There was George on the ceiling, the floor, and the walls. The Cousinly Receptionist desk was plastered with the stuff, and the Cousinly Receptionist herself seemed to have a double coating. The front doors looked like it would take a minor miracle to open them again. The seats in the lobby had a decidedly *lumpy* look to them, and the Cousins themselves were dripping with the stuff (well, it doesn't really drip... more like plop). This was the scene when Tok walked in. Six Cousins spun to see the third of Cerberus, five hands frozen in mid-air as they launched George blops, unfortunately, at Tok. Twelve eyes went wide as the wet mixture found its mark. "Uhhhhhhhh...." was all Tok could manage to say, George oozing on her shirt and in her hair. Her voice strangled by shock, anger, and fear as she imagined explaining *this* one to the General. "Shelley started it!" yelled Tser, pointing a finger coated with George. "But, uh... SHE made the George!" Shelley yelled back, pointing her own George encrusted finger. "It was for a retaliation attack, though," Tser said, pleadingly. Tok's mouth was gaping and she was staring past her fellow leader. "Then why, may I ask, are you slinging it at your fellow Cousins?" said a dry voice from behind them. Isabella ducked beneath her desk and the other five perpetrators swallowed slowly, and turned around apprehensively. The General, to say the very least, was *not* pleased. "Sir!" Cousin Tser said, snapping to attention as best she could, being weighted down by quite a bit of George. "It was... it was... I...," she trailed off, a stricken look on her face. The other Cousins started to back off, happy to leave one of their leaders with the blame. "Stop." At LaCroix's command, the four winced and tried to look small. "What is this... white substance?" the General asked. His tone was low and threatening. His eyes centered on Tserisa. She wondered, with a mysterious and inappropriate calm, if she should change her middle name to Trouble? That thought was quickly followed by a serious consideration of what she wanted on her tombstone -- and she wasn't talking about pizza. "And *what* is it doing coating Cousins and the Lobby of my building?" he demanded, surveying the scene with distaste. "It's George, General, sir," Tser said, fumbling for an explanation. "And it's coating the Lobby because Shelley started a George Fight." At that moment, some George fell from the ceiling and plopped on LaCroix's shoulder. "Meep," came a sound from under the Receptionist's desk. LaCroix looked calmly at the George as it worked its way down his suit. He slowly brought his full attention back to the Cousins and snarled, "This *will* *not* *do*." LaCroix returned his attention to Tserisa, imprisoning her with his glare, his gaze unwavering. "And you believe that an immature romp involving 'George' as a weapon is *fun*?" "Well, yes," Tser said, then at his angered look, "but in an area where Cousins seldom venture such as the bottom of the Grand Canyon or the interior of Vachon's church!" she added quickly. "You will clean up this mess, Tserisa," LaCroix said, almost growling, "and you, Shelley, will assist. You *will* accomplish this task before I have call to venture into this lobby again." "Isabella!" LaCroix barked. There was a thunk as the Cousinly Receptionist hit her head on the table. She scrambled out. "I am going to change into... cleaner attire. You will have this suit dry cleaned, and the bill will be directed to our dear Cousinly Leader, Tserisa." Isabella nodded vigorously. The George that had taken up residence at the tip of her nose bobbed in agreement. "It'll never come out," Wulfie muttered. "Pardon?" LaCroix said turning his cold stare in Cousin Wulf's direction. When he recieved only a frightened glance, he narrowed his eyes. "If there is any lasting damage, then Tserisa shall pay for a new suit. And *that* is only the beginning," he said, casting a steely glare at Tser. He turned and walked from the room, leaving a trail of thick George footprints behind him. Shelley looked around in horror at the mess. Tserisa felt faint. The other Cousins hightailed it and left the mess to them. Moses, flicking out her thick pink tongue, followed, returning to Tser's room, a bit of George on the end of her tail. ### pax, Cousin Tserisa (and the infamous Cousinly Critters) * tser@snail-mail.net * http://geocities.com/~tser/forkni/ CuzWarX page: http://geocities.com/Area51/Omega/6554/ http://www.care-mail.com - Free E-mail/e-card accounts that help save Wildlife! From - Fri Aug 27 20:56:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KWHN-0002BG-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 20:23:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0082; Fri, 27 Aug 99 20:21:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6049; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 20:21:18 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 20:23:16 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: WAR: DP: Oddness (Repost from earlier) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 439bdcdfff2b84a3bfc6df81f9df3191 A short followup of 'How to Unwhammy a Thug in Less Than Ten Seconds.' This is after the Nother's attack and before the Vaq's party, or vice versa. The formerly whammied Thug Martin attempts to get out of the room to get away from that horrible noise. He forgets to open the door though and the sound of him hitting the solid door the first few times is rather spectacular. When he finally remembers to first open door before going though, he realizes he is wearing a dress. A loud shout comes through the door, "Whoever did this. . ." Words fail Martin and he resorts to various sounds and hand gestures that get the message though quite nicely. 15 minutes and a change of clothes later: Martin has finally calmed down enough, ie. not foaming at the mouth, to become relatively normal enough to notice the condition of the mansion. Dark pink jello dripping slowly off of the walls. "Well, this is unusual." He continues to the downstairs and notices at least a few Thugs are more hyperactive and acting more strangely than usual. "Just another day in the mansion, I suppose." > ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Fri Aug 27 20:56:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KWNc-0001tR-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 20:30:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3316; Fri, 27 Aug 99 20:27:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6547; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 20:27:47 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:26:11 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers: The Slide (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 36346ed200e68d5e2b75f9d6da29664b ==================== The Slide (1/1) Time: 11:45 PM Saturday 28 Aug 99 By Cousin Raven (raven@naturesong.com Fellow Enforcers used with permission Clyde, Mike, and Niko are my characters. Mine, mine I say. ===================== The HQ was quiet now, each of the enforcers were in their offices, each working feverently to get their reports in order. Shadowman was finally back to normal. He was 'out' for the moment, probably revealing in his rediscovered vampirism. Raven could just imagine how that would happen. Images of dead bodies piling up in the morgue came to mind. With a force of will she pushed the image from her mind and concentrated on the report before her. The newly installed door's buzzer rang. She sighed. She hated being interrupted. It was the one thing she really, really, couldn't stand. She walked purposefully to the door and swung it open. "WHAT?" she said. Suddenly cowering, the UPS man handed her a clipboard. "Sign here..." he stuttered. She did and received a small package, about the size of a loaf of bread. The UPS man hotfooted it to the elevator and away. Raven smiled, scaring people made her day. She took the box to the conference room and opened it. Inside was a small, calculator sized object with numbers and letters. It appeared to be off. There was a letter as well. She opened it and started to read. ----------------- Greetings from Chicago, Here's the last item you'll need to complete your war. Be sure to have everyone but 'shadowman' in the conference room before you turn it on. Clyde ----------------- Raven turned the paper over, but that was all it said. She put the 'calculator' on the conference table. She hit the intercom and her voice echoed throughout the HQ, "Could you all come to the conference room? I've got something we might want to see." She heard murmurs of agreement all around and slowly, they filtered in. Finally, with everyone seated at the table and looking very tired, Raven picked up the 'calculator'. She pushed the "power" button. A blinding flash executed, revealing a swirling blue vortex that slowly engulfed them, one by one. Then the conference room was empty. ===================== And thus do we wink out of War 10. =) See you in Fan fiction. ===================== Evil Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Fri Aug 27 22:50:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KWsE-0006KA-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 21:01:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0380; Fri, 27 Aug 99 20:59:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9347; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 20:59:20 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 18:01:55 -0700 Reply-To: "Nancy A. Taylor" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: REPOST: Knighties: "Time to Move On" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 406ce28c694c269c89eb6a49dbde0a6b Reposted with McLisa's permission. Please ignore the first version. It was an early draft with errors. This is the correct story for the War Timeline: Knighties: "Time to Move On" by Nancy Taylor Time: Tuesday, Aug. 24, near dawn Place: the Loft Sandra and Chris F. used with permission Nick sat quietly on the edge of his bed. Elbows on knees, his head rested heavily against his palms. Traces of silver streaked his cheeks as droplets of salty tears welled in the corners of his closed eyes. So much had happened. So much was yet to be decided. Sandra and Chris had told him the story behind the Galen's Cube legend. Now he had to deal with it, one way or another. Two options lay before him. He could reassemble the staff and replace the icon. This would turn everything back as it was before. All the ex-vampires would become immortal again. Could he live with himself knowing he had loosed a plague of vampires back on the City of Toronto? When he had tried the cure himself, he had not known the bonus of turning all vampires within a radius of one hundred miles mortal. How many deaths had been avoided by his choice? How could he even *consider* reassembling the staff? And if he did, would he then be taking the responsibility of condemning their souls to eternal damnation once again? How could he...? His other alternative was to *not* put the thing back together... and find himself turned into a raving monster at the upcoming full moon. The beast would be let loose, and his Knighties, as well as the entire Toronto community, would know the horror of a berserk vampire on the loose. Either option could easily bring the Enforcers down on him and the Community. Enforcers from outside. Enforcers who were still vampires. Still ruthless. He shuddered. How to decide? This was his decision, and his alone.... He would not bring is loyal Knighties into it. They had done enough for him already. //Time to move on.// Move on? The voice echoed in his mind. //Time to move on.// Where? How? He felt a seed of fear blossom in his belly, to be quickly replaced by a determined decision. Yes, it was time to move on. Permanently. He had dreamed of mortality. Wished for it. Prayed for it. And now that he had it, he knew what he needed to do. //Time to move on.// The only question now, was the method.... //Time to move on.// Nick Knight rose from his seat on the bed, walked over to the window and drew open the blinds. He would see one last sunrise before he crossed that threshold only mortals could cross...into death. ------------------- Nancy A. Taylor War 10 -- Knightie Co-Leader From - Sat Aug 28 08:54:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KYbU-0007Tz-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 22:52:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4183; Fri, 27 Aug 99 22:50:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7728; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 22:50:16 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:52:11 +1000 Reply-To: TALIESYN@C031.AONE.NET.AU Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Alexander J. Braun" Organization: access one Subject: WAR: RAVEN: A Flight of Ravens To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6f67e012868a9e372059ae152af6d325 Title:A Flight of Ravens Time: Morning Friday, 08/27/99 All used with permission. Alex arrived at Nat's apartment location with Lars and Aramis both ex vampires. "Well the ravens are still around the apartment building, Lars, Aramis get the door of the van open and open the cage door" Lars and Aramis opened the door and got the cage ready Alex started leaving a trail of candies from the apartment building to the van door then throwing a small amount in the wire caged. Alex, Lars and Aramis waited away from the van and watched the ravens started eating the candies and slowly moved towards the van door. "It may take awhile to get all the ravens" Alex commented, Lars and Aramis got comfortable while waiting. After a hour had passed all the ravens were in the cage resting after eating all the candy. Alex slowly moved towards the van and gently closed the cage hardly disturbing the birds, he closed the van doors"Lars, Aramis come on we got places to go" Alex called. As the van drove off"Were are we going?" Lars asked"To a theatre were we played pictionary with the Nat Packers on the night when our clothes were attacked by some of them at the Raven" Alex replied with a grin. "They were interesting clothes!" Lars said looking at Alex with a smile. "What are we going to do with the ravens Alex" "Kimmer gave me a idea we will put the rest of the candy in the theatre and release the ravens in there it will take a while for the Nat Packers to clear out the birds from the theatre" Alex replied to Aramis. The van arrived at the theatre and Alex got the two ex vampires to unload the cage and carry it in to the theatre, Alex had opened a side door to the theatre with a key he got from Kimmer. It only took a few minutes to leave all the candy in the theatre and then release the ravens. "I'm sure the Nat Packers will appreciate this gesture" Alex said while watching the ravens fly around looking for the candy. The immense lobby, with its gleaming marble floor, wooden staircases and ornate plaster ceiling was an elegant setting for all the ravens to fly arround in. Alex walked out with the two ex vampires and closed the side door, they drove off towards the club having done a good mornings work. -- Alex Braun - Taliesyn@c031.aone.net.au - ICQ # 12610993 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe". Marcus, B5 From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KZ3I-0000hs-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 23:21:12 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2333; Fri, 27 Aug 99 23:18:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0769; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 23:18:40 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 20:20:34 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR: Nothers/Vaqs: A Nother Time, A Nother Place 2/3 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ace7fbff2a8a111651ae54c669d73b89 TItle: A Nother Time, A Nother Place 2/3 written by: Fleurette B , Nightdancer, Liz & special Part 2 help from Tracy Sue Time: Monday 23 Aug 99, during the Party at the Shrine & After Part 1 of this story Place: Shrine to Nunkies Disclaimers: Fleurette & Jeanne used by permission. LaCroix also used by permission of NA, them being the faction who had control of him on Monday., which is when this post *should* have dropped in a perfect world. Tracy Sue and Tom used because Tracy Sue wrote that part. ************** Fleurette and her mother made their way through the crowded Shrine. She made it apoint to introduce her mother to most of her Nunkies friends-- those she could find in the crowd, that is. As she scanned the crowd, she did happen to notice Liz, Kat and Daf talking to someone whose name she knew but couoldn't recall. Nightdancer approached them and disappeared with Daf. She returned wearing a new costume. Later one, Dancer could be seen flitting about the Shrine dressed as a prairie school marm. The outfit was nice, but the collar, which was high, looked tight. ************* "That's new," Tom pointed to the pendants as he handed Tracy Sue a glass of peach colored punch. "How much did they cost, and why do you need two?" "First, they aren't jewelry. Second, I'm just holding them for safe keeping," Tracy Sue said as she sipped the drink tentatively. "Peach schnapps." "Careful, you don't want to get hammered." Tom replied. "I won't get hammered," Tracy Sue said. "Fiction, remember?" "This is going to take some getting used to," Tom frowned. Just then, Tracy Sue recognized a familiar face. "Fleurette! Over here!" She hopped around, liberally dousing her leather skirt with the peach drink. "Well, I don't have to worry about you drinking too much," Tom joked. "You're wearing most of it." The Vaqmommy replied by sticking her tongue out at her husband. Just then Fleurette walked up, with her mother in tow. Introductions were made, and then Fleurette noticed the pendant on Tracy Sue's neck as well. "I've got one of those too!" She said. "Where did you get yours." "I found it," Tracy Sue sighed. "I think that it belongs to the Knighties. But I haven't found a single one to ask." "What is it?" Tom asked. "It's a part of a puzzle. When it's assembled, it forms a spell." "That explains why the vampires are all mortal," Fleurette said excitedly. "Vampires?!" Tom and Fleurette's mother both looked at their respective loved ones like the girls were two fajitas short of a meal. "Mortalized Vampires," Tracy Sue said. "That's the spell." "So maybe we should find some Knighties, and get Nick to reverse the spell." "Whyever for?" Tom looked horrified. Tracy Sue looked at Tom, and in that instant, knew that he would never understand. She took his hand and steered him toward the Vaqueros for safekeeping. ************ "Look!" Jeanne said, grabbing her daughter's arm and pointing towards NightDancer. Dancer was now dressed in an Austrian dirndl dress. It had a short-sleeved white blouse, red bodice, skirt and apron. She also wore white knee socks decorated with little red flowered embroidery. She was wearing black flat shoes and had a wreath of red flowers on her head. "Jewels looks like Heidi!" Both women smiled. "You know the strange girl with all the costumes, little flower?" came a voice behind them. The two women turned to find LaCroix standing behind them. "She's my best friend, actually... uh, sir," Fleurette said. Even mortal, LaCroix could still cause meltdown. "What does she call herself?' he asked politly. "NightDancer," came Fleurete's reply. "I should like to meet her sometime. She's quite creative," LaCroix pronounced. He then introduced himself to Jeanne and took Fleurette aside for a private tete-a-tete. Fleurette returned to her mother, sighing deeply. She held, clutched in her hands, a small box wrapped in silver paper. "Well, he wasn't *too* anger with me for abandoning NA for Nothers," she told her mom. Inwardly, she was thanking God for the good mood LaCroix appeared to be in at the moment. "And he gave me this for thebaby.' "What is it?" her mom asked. "I dunno," Fleurette replied with a shrug. "He says I can't open it until the little on eis born." ************** Continued in Part 3 Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KZHo-0005jR-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 23:36:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2469; Fri, 27 Aug 99 23:33:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2375; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 23:33:57 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 23:35:51 EDT Reply-To: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ScubaKAK@AOL.COM Subject: WAR: FOD: How much is that Doggie . .? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3aea49072093568be388dc5d73bdf90c How much is that doggie . . . ? By Kathy K (FoD) All FoDs used by permission Date: 8/25/99, Wednesday Time: Late evening Rav, Jenny and Bev were singing their fifth chorus of "How much is that doggie in the window"?", a bit off key but loud enough for it not to really matter, when Kathy plopped down in the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room. There was more than enough food for the makeshift party thrown to welcome the newest Schanke household member, so much so that Kathy wondered if they really need to use Nick's oven in the loft to make the five extra pizzas. Granted all the pizzas disappeared and Cindy and Kathy enjoyed their free time in the loft even if the Knighties might be talking to them later, still everyone had over eaten to the point of being absolutely useless. "So, Kathy, what do you think of the puppy?" Schanke burped out. "Awwwww, what a cute puppy," Kathy whimpered as said same puppy entered the room dragging a neon orange fin. "HEY," Bev yelled out, interrupting the start of the sixth chorus. "That's mine!" and off Bev ran after the little furry golden retriever pup. "If the puppy damages that fin, I'm scared what color scuba gear Bev will have in the next war," Lori muttered and the FoDs broke into laughter just as Bev reentered the room, orange fin in hand. "Hey, what's so funny?" All the group could do in reply is sigh and relax. "The puppy is going to be a fine addition to the family," Myra said to Schanke while watching Jenny carrying the puppy back into the room like a baby. The pink, puppy belly demanded scratching and Jenny's belly rub got the puppy's tail moving so fast it almost wiggled out of her arms. "Yes, dear, even though it was something we should have discussed first, it was a wonderful warm thought" "And remember we are here to help," Spifff added in. "ZZZzzzzz" Schanke was sound asleep. The puppy crawled over to the couch, jumped up and curled next to him. Everyone chuckled. Yes, the puppy was definitely a true Schanke. From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KaIg-0003Ug-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 00:41:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4895; Sat, 28 Aug 99 00:38:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7204; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 00:38:55 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 00:41:20 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: Vampbear on Walkabout (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 93b703c1adff4a16cb8aee8d54073a13 WAR: Independent/CGW: Vampbear on Walkabout by Nicolas de Bearbant (aka "The Vampbear") as told to Brenda Bell I, Nicolas de Bearbant, being of fiberfill mind and hungry... hmm... where's my bottle. Ah, there it is. *GULP* *GULP* *GULP* *AAAaaahhhhhh* Now, where was I? Oh, right. I was at home, right in there with the mortal-type bears, and someone came and grabbed me and put me in a box before I could taste him. I know it was a him -- it smelled like a him and walked like a him. Then he stuffed lots of Brenda's clothes on top of me so I couldn't get a snack off of him :( Ex-CUUUUSSSE me, but if you're going to stuff me somewhere, you've got to at least give me a snack. A live snack, none of this... *bottled stuff*. [Hey, Brenda! the bottle's empty again!] Well, I don't know how long I was in the box, but I only have one reserve bottle and its, like, y'know, not nearly enough for a short trip, let alone a long one. This one was longer than the time I went to Boston, and I didn't even get to ride in an airplane. From what I could tell, I was stuck somewhere with a lot of trucks and chemicals and diesel fumes. Yuck!! [Get to the point, Nicolas. I don't have all day.] [The point? I have two points, right here -- would you like to feel them?] [You will *not* bite me.] [Aww.. and after all I did for you, too :( ] [Back to the story?] [Oh, right, the story.] Well, of course I'm too smart to spend my time in a box *not* trying to find my way out of there... unfortunately, the humans closed it too tight for that. Well, at least I didn't get any stray light rays in there... but I wouldn't suggest it as a mode of travel for anybeardy... Friday, 13 August? Finally, I think, I got whereever this man wanted me to go to, and this woman answers the door. Does she smell sweet! Her blood smells like cactus blossoms and Margaritas, yum! Wonder if she'll let me take a taste? Boy, am I ever hungry... I think it was Friday, 'cos she was going around yelling "War" all over the place, and Brenda said the war began on Friday. I'm still waiting for someone to give me a properly-sized sword and lance so I can help out. Well, she came in for me again in the mid-afternoon, it seems. She came for me! The cactus-lady! MMMmmmm! Food at last! I could hardly wait. She loosened the box just enough for me to fly out and hug her. I like to hug my snacks before I taste them, makes 'em taste sweeter, you know? almost like honey? So what does she do? She hits me square in the jaw, she does. Owwww! that hurted! Well, she hurt her wrist in the process. Serves her right! She taught me a whole bunch of new words, though... gotta find time to try'em out on everyone... A while later, Brenda came and scolded me for snacking, said they had stuff for us undead types. It was bottled stuff, nothing spectac. I mean, it wasn't bad for *bottled*, but you know, fresh always tastes a LOT better :) So I took a bite from her, too :) Variety in diet makes unlife worth living, sometimes. I look forward to having a harem... Sunday, 15 August. I spent most of the weekend looking over the stuff at the Fiendish Glow. I never did get to meet up with any other vampbears, though :( I got to fiddle with the karaoke machine when nobody was looking, and I got to play with Brenda's plaide when she wasn't wearing it... hmm... I think I cut a striking figure in a breaccan feile, even if I do say so myself... Chris, d'ya think you c'n teach me how to wrap this danged thing?! [*Rummage, rummage, try to find opening, rummage, rummage, get tangled, rummage, rummage, fall down*] [Chris isn't here right now -- remember? We don't know where he went off to.] [Oh. C'n I chomp Heather then? CanIcanIcanIcanI?] [She's missing, too.] [#@%*&#$%%@%*$!!!!!] [Where did you learn *that* word?] [Pen. Who else?] By the way, the cactus-lady is called "Pen". Why they call her a writing instrument, I'll never know... but her hair is the color of the ink in the fountain pens that Brenda refuses to let me touch :( (I *like* scribbling with fountain pens, thank you! Brenda insists that it stains my fur. Grrrrrr....) Oh, yeah. I got to play on the Internet when Pen and Brenda weren't looking. I noticed they have some kewl places where you can order live ratsies to eat :) Personally, I prefer brunettes to ratsies; somehow, the rats don't quite have enough spunk... Monday, 16 August. I guess I won't be wearing the breaccan feile any more. Brenda took her plaide back and yelled at me for getting fang marks and blood stains on it. [Not to mention all the ink stains from those permanent magic markers you found in *my* desk drawer that I told you *not* to go through.] [I didn't open it, honest -- it was Lucius the cat.] [Don't give me that BS, Nicolas. You have the tell-tale marks on your paws to prove it.] [Do not! *licks inky forepaw* Yuck!] [Lemme get some alcohol and see if that will work.] [Alcohol? that's almost as bad as garlic!] [If you didn't get your paws into the ink, I wouldn't be trying to get you clean, now would I?] [Aww, you're no fun. *chomp*] [OUCH!] Tuesday, August 17. I forgot to mention I got another couple of Bimbos for my Pit yesterday. MacHeather smells of heather and cloves, with lots of heather honey. She's a redhead, though, and redheads have always been a little *too* spicy for my tastes. *sigh* Sukh is mysterious; I can't figure out where she's from or what she eats 'cos she's such a blend of stuff -- though in the end, I think she smells mostly of her friend Ro-roy-the-lay-us-boy... [That's "Roy, Roy, the Buff Slave Boy"... and he's her, umm, massage therapist.] [Now look who's giving who the BS. Why would she want *him* to give her a massage when *I'm* around?] [Because *you* would plop down on her and do things that are forbidden in a PG-13 War -- like, um, drain her.] [Would not!] [Would too.] [Not!] [Too!] [Not!not!not!] [Too!too!too!] ***transcriber's note: Did anyone here ever wonder why I also consider myself a Pit of Condemned Bimbos Survivalist (PoCBS)??? [Back to my story, *wench*!] [Grrrrrrr.] Wednesday, August 18. I got to see Heather's himbo, Chris, all sloshed up on Scotch :) Seems he likes making himself high-proof so Heather can get a buzz biting him :) Makes sweeter blood for me, eh? (Oh, @%$^#*$@!! I'm beginning to sound like these Canadians...) [Nicolas, this is a PG-13 war. Cussing and biting are not allowed.] [Then how am I supposed to feed?] [You *have* two bottles.] [That's not even a meal. Besides, I didn't even write down half of the *other* things they did that night...] [Like argue?] Looks like Chris also has this "Braveheart" thing going. I wonder if I'll be able to gather some goodies at the end of the film, when he gets -- [Nicolas! *Don't* *go* *there*.] Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:13 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KaIm-0003V7-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 00:41:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1732; Sat, 28 Aug 99 00:38:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7218; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 00:38:59 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 00:41:21 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: Vampbear on Walkabout (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 58d77cd980f7aa986328dacfa01a71be WAR: Independent/CGW: Vampbear on Walkabout (2/2) by Nicolas de Bearbant (aka "The Vampbear") as told to Brenda Bell ********************* Thursday, August 19. Got stuck up in the upstairs rooms with Lucius while they deratted downstairs. Spent the time trying to get Brenda's plaide clean again... could somebeardy please tell me why the washing machine eats clothing? After the fiftieth washing, I couldn't even use it as flashes for the kilt hose I don't have (hint, Brenda, hint, hint!)... I tried to wash Lucius too, but he wouldn't stop playing with those dirty rats :( I really tried. I even made sure to put the wash cycle on "hot" to make sure he got really clean. I don't think Lucius likes me... I had fun playing with the karaoke again... you should've seen the look on Chris's face when Pen started singing my "Three Drunk Celts" song. [*your* song? *YOUR* song?] [Yup. Whobeardy do you think taught it to Pen?] Saturday, 21 August. I think MacHeather likes me! She invited me to go help out with her bridal shower :) Do you know what that means? Free FOOD! All sorts of food! Blondes, brunettes, redheads.... *YUM*!!!!!!! Sunday, 22 August. Remind me never to believe a redhead. There were too many feet around for me to be able to get to the food -- and to top it off, MacHeather locked me in a *cage* like she did to Lucius. I *knew* there was a reason I didn't like redheads... ... Then I think I'm finally gonna get some time to run around the place and try to scrounge up some food, and they tell me we're going off to the shrine. What's a shrine, and why do I feel so uncomfortable about it? Monday, 23 August. It looks like this "Shrine" is a sort of a preChristian church. I don't like churches; I'm a vamp. So I start looking for some wheels to blow the place, y'know? Turns out they're having this sort of "road rally" -- in broad *daylight*, of all things! Couldn't get outside the Shrine for beans. Doncha just love it... And worst of all, the whole *pantry* was *outside*, in the *sunlight*, playing *games*. I am *SO* incensed... hmm... what's that I smell? Is it? Is it? Could it be????? !!!!!!!!!!!BARBECUE!!!!!!!!!!!! There's *got* to be lots of food there, no? Tuesday, 24 August. The "barbecue" was a fake volcano :( and then we got *snowed on*. By *birds* -- white, fluffy *birds*, of all things... Attacked by land, attacked by air... could killer sharks be next? HELP!!!!!!!! Getmeouttahere!!!! By the way, MacHeather never came back last night. I hope she didn't get barbecued or anything -- it would ruin the exquisite taste of her honeyed-heather blood. (Yes, I took a sip -- just before she asked me to go to the bridal shower with her :):):):):) ) Oh, well, I guess I'll just have to start laying some bimbo traps.... ...Oops. Forgot. I'm still stuck in this stupid cage. I gotta get outta here first... but if MacHeather isn't here to let me out... HELP!!!!! GETMEOUTTAHERE!!! HELP!!!!!! [You're okay, Nicolas. You're safe here, at the Fiendish Glow.] [Sorry. Post-dramatic stress syndrome. *CHOMP*] [OUCH!] Well, if that weren't all, then that *cat* decides that I'm one of his *toys*. First he locks an overgrown rat in my cage who won't let me turn around to bite him and who keeps trying to eat me for dinner, then he drags me out in his teeth, drools all over me, and gets me dirty on the floor -- and dumps me in the closet. Excuse me, I've been in that *asylum* more than five minutes, I need *foo-ood*! Only thing in the closet (besides shoes that were too big to wear and too small to hide in and smelled of dirty feet) were some old, leaky pens and a stash of litterbox paper. Ugh. Pheeeewwww! Well, since it didn't look like I was going to get to go anywhere for a while, I figured I ought to start recording my experiences for posterity. And writing a couple of distress notes, too, just in case... just in case I end up having to snack off of Lucius. (Cats are worse than rats, in my opinion -- they taste like bile -- *barely* useful for breakfast, but only when dogs and rats aren't available.) Finally, Sukh finds us... with Roy the Royal "lay us" boy-- [That's "Roy, Roy, the--"] [Yeah, I know, I know, but this is *my* story, and I'll tell it *my* way] [Not if it gets both of us banned from posting in this War because we needed to add an ADULT: header, you won't.] [Oh, yeah? Who's going to stop me? I have the Administrator password, you know.] [WHAT?!?!?!?!] [How d'ya think I was able to order those two dozen brunettes from the "Addict of the War Club" on your Platinum card?] [You... *WHAT*?!?!?! I don't *have* a Platinum card.] [Now you do. The bills should start arriving oh, about a week after we get back to New York.] [You are *so* dead....] [*CHOMP*] [OUCH!!] [Back to the story!] [@$^%#*!!!!] [You don't cuss *nearly* as prettily as Pen does. She can do it in twenty languages, you know :) ] [@*#&@(*&^$$@@#@!!!#(#(@*(*A*^^$^#@@!!!!!!] [That's better :) ] [||rolling eyes|| Ursus Theodoris, domesticus, *vampiricus*!] [You ring?] [Grr-r-r-rrrrr-rrrrrr!!!!!] Well, anyway, the sitch is like, intolerable, y'know -- Lucius watching me like a prison guard... and she favors *him*... imagine, preferring a *cat* to a vampbear! Well, I'm hungry and she's occupied with the cat, maybe she won't notice if I take a bite... Whoa!!! I'm not sure if I like this or not... You know the "pony rides" kids take on their father's feet? Well, I got one, and I wasn't prepared for it... try eating in the saddle one day... I guess it was ok in the end 'cos then she realized I was there, and she took me back home so I could get this rat fuzz off me... Wednesday, 25 August. MacHeather has been missing since Monday night. Sukh and Brenda say that's why Lucius and I were left alone in the Shrine. (Good thing Sukh and Lay-Us Boy rescued us.) Brenda says neither MacHeather nor Chris the Kilted Wonder have been seen since Monday night. Is Chris maybe related to the Lay-Us Boy???? Or perhaps he's been taken in by that "Nunkumpoopies"-- [It's "Nunkies".] [Well, Chris calls him "Nunkumpoopies".] [Just because *Chris* calls him that-- ] [C'mon, it's *my* story!] [*sigh* very well...] --as well. Pen said something about Father Andrew looking smug when Brenda asked everyone at the Glow about them... but then Pen thinks everyone looks smug. (*sticking snout straight up in the air*) Hah! Anyway, Brenda said something about a seeking ritual and let me and Lucius into Heather's room. She made it smell real funny, though... I don't think Lucius liked that 'cos he was sneezing all night. But y'know, I think that worked even better than the hot-water bath, 'cos except for the snot and hairballs and all, he came out of it brand-spanking white and glowing :) On the other hand, the next morning, Brenda looked like she'd eaten box of glow-in-the-dark glowsticks... I tried to chomp her afterwards, but she tasted *awful* -- and now my eyes and fangs glow in the dark. AAAUUGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! [I *told* you not to try it, but *NOooooo*, you just *had* to get your fangs in there...] [Cut the sarcasm, Brenda. It's bad enough my fangs glow in the dark.] [Calm down; it'll only last a couple of days.] Then she said it didn't work, 'cos they weren't in the land of the Faer, but we might be able to get some friends to help us find them if we went out to the park tomorrow night. I've got a bad feeling about this... [Calm down, Nicolas. You'll be just fine.] [I'm a vampbear. I don't *do* religion.] [*chuckle*] [Honest, I don't. Not even "Bearish". I fang Christmas balls as a matter of principle.] [Ah, so it's *you* who's been destroying the gifts I've been making!] [Ah, no, um, I didn't mean, oh, AAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!#@*&^*&^%*@^%$!@!!!!!] [Is that the end of it?] [What?] [Your story.] [My journal.] [Whatever.] [Well, I can't tell you what hasn't happened yet.] [Doh. So?] [I reserve the right to add onto this as the rest of the War transpires.] [Fine. Whatever. Let's see if Pen, the boys, or the Addicts have found something...] Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KaLt-0006Ql-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 00:44:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2832; Sat, 28 Aug 99 00:42:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7364; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 00:42:11 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 21:44:10 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA/CGW: Safehouse To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 115c884874d1e905fc6d280b7f7caaaa WAR: NA/CGW: Safehouse WHERE: Father Andrew's Safe house near the Airport WHEN: 8/24 5 AM By MacCousin Heather ***** "Oof!!!!" MacCousin was dropped onto a hardwood floor, still wrapped in a big tartan sack. "LETMEOUT! LETMEOUT!" MacCousin Heather was getting more and more claustrophobic by the minute. Chris undid the sack and Heather jumped out and began to whap him. "Why? Whyyyy?" "Becauuuzz, Nunkumpoopies wuld have never let ya go, lass?" "Nunkies happens to be a wee bit miffed at me right now!!!!" "I kno, lass, because ye ran off and spoiled his sacrifice." He pulled her into his arms. MacHeather got frustrated and pulled away. "Sacrifice? What do you think goes on at the shrine?" "I kno perfectly 'ell what goes on thare," Chris hiccuped and continued. "You get nice things and in a few years you're sacrificed to tha' Nunkumpoopies. Iffen I take ye away, he demands recompense. Right??" "Huh???" "Ye know, he wants payment." He wrapped his arms around her. "Whaddya mean? Like a dowry? An' let me go, you're suffocating me. Where the heck are we???" "Poor Heather," whispered Chris. "He must have a strong hold on you. Dinna worry, we'll deprogram you. That way he won't demand Prima Nocte." "Deprogram me??? You're nuts! There's no way he'd demand Prima Nocte! I'm going back to the shrine! I left Lucius there! Lucius has to be fed!" Chris's eyes narrowed. "See there ya go, havin' to feed that Nunkumpoopies." He pulled the bag over Heather's head and carried her into another room, closing the door behind them. ****** MacCousin Heather Keeper of the MacNunkies Tapestry http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/ ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KbEL-00007E-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 01:40:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3006; Sat, 28 Aug 99 01:38:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0835; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 01:38:24 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 01:39:50 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 01/? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b7c6ed7694b4e4e33a6f2920ef7a57ef NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 01/? by Patt Elmore When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Being a slacker turned out to be hard work. And, Patt decided, rather stressful. After being accepted by the Vaqueras/o as one of their own, she had shared an *amusing* adventure with her buddies in black leather. But now, the activity schedule was telling on the former addict. As she drove down the street on her borrowed Triumph, the Third Cousinly Vaq started to hang back, slowing her pace and her motorcycle. Soon, off to the side of the road, she saw what she was looking for: a small, almost shabby-looking-but-not-too-scary local tavern with a bright neon sign missing three letters. What should have read Jay's Bar now blinked *Ja Ba*. Patt grinned to herself, allowing the Triumph to pull into the scantily populated parking lot. She glanced once toward the disappearing Vaqs, parked the cycle and headed inside. Upon entering the establishment, Patt first noted the layout. Hanging out with factions had taught her to be very aware of her surroundings. The bar was basically a large room, with a long bar at one end and booths to the back. Opposite the door Patt entered was another door leading out, reminding Patt of the layout of a standard Pizza Hut . The center of the room was an open area for dancing, with tables set up on the outer rim. A room off from the back led to a gaming area, consisting of two pool tables and several pin ball machines. The mature one made her way to the bar and ordered her normal Budweiser longneck. The cold brew heavy in her throat, she reflected, once more, on the events of the past several days. One thing was obvious. Remaining with the Vaqs would probably kill her. Hanging with them was fun, but almost too much for one of advancing years. Besides, staying in that dank, dark church of Vachon's was bound to contribute to her rheumatism and general ill health. Go back to the Shrine? Patt shuddered and took another long swig of the beer. Very doubtful that Mr. Kriel would be interested in hearing about how she and her friends tarred the roof to help the vamp construction workers, not to feather them. No . . . as long as Kriel and GROUT were hanging around the NA home base, Patt couldn't return there. Besides . . . if the addicts heard of her defection, they most likely wouldn't want her back. That left two alternatives. Join yet another faction, or go back to Louisiana. Patt had a momentary vision of herself as a RatPacker and nearly spit beer across the room. Louisiana in August was hot, but not as sweltering as Toronto at War time. The soft sound of cicadas chirping at night. The hum of air conditioners when they were working. A return to the sanity of social work with children and families. The year- long FrancoFest celebration. Patt smiled. And, with that decided, the Cousinly ex-Vaq lifted her bottle in mock toast, just as Alfred Pectin walked into the bar. Their eyes met. Patt felt a momentary surge of panic, lust, etc., as their eyes continued to hold. Pectin finally broke the mode, giving the Third Cousin a small nod. He quickly looked around the establishment, obviously searching for someone or something. Satisfied that the someone/thing was not there, he walked over to Patt. "An interesting attire." His endeavor to break the ice made Patt suddenly self-conscious. "Leather and spandex . . . you cleaning people obviously have interesting lives away from your work." Patt sighed deeply. "I need you to understand something, Mr. Pectin. I am not part, nor have I ever been part, of a government paid cleaning crew. I only clean when it's punishment." "I know," Pectin said, his eyes suddenly twinkling. Then he grew serious again. "Why are you here?" "I'm having a drink," Patt replied. "But, why *here*?" the former Mountie persisted. Patt narrowed her eyes, hoping to appear non-committal. "Why do you think I'm here?" "I was hoping that it is because you wanted to spend time with me," Pectin said. The mature one's jaw sagged and her fingers went lax. "You're going to drop your ale," Pectin said, reaching out to steady the beer in Patt's hand. As he did, his fingers closed over hers. Patt stared up into those now smoldering hazel eyes as her heart did some very betraying dance steps. It bounced around in her chest cavity, squirming in delight. Patt was caught now in that cloudy pool of off-green. "I must admit," Pectin was saying, "that when I discovered that you had feelings for me, I was a bit taken aback. But, the more I studied the situation, the more I came to realize that your attraction to me was understandable." Patt just nodded, watching his lips move. "I must comment, also, that you looked quite fetching in that beige gown you were attired in the other night." Those scrumptious, full lips. "Quite the catch you would have been," Pectin said, leaning closer, "if you hadn't been distracted by that boorish Kriel fellow." Patt stretched out just a tad, tilting her face up to accept any intimacy that Pectin might have in mind. He lowered his face, his course obviously defined. Their lips brushed. A door opened, and closed. Out of the corner of her eye, Patt noted the arrival and gasped. LaCroix. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued 01/? patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KbEN-0005Le-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 01:40:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1902; Sat, 28 Aug 99 01:38:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0855; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 01:38:27 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 01:39:50 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 02/? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 96c0734a33c639d0e6f2f48f61a9d546 NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 02/? by Patt Elmore When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LaCroix moved easily into the bar, paying no mind to the others drinking there. He took a quiet booth near the back, choosing not to face the open room. Patt shivered as she watched him. Pectin pulled back, looking at her with concern. Then, he followed the mature one's eyes and noted who she watched. "That's your boss, isn't it?" Pectin said soothingly. "I've seen him hanging around the office." Patt, unsure how to answer Pectin's inquiry, just nodded. "Don't worry, Pet." Pectin breathed softly into her ear. "Everyone's entitled to a break." "But, with my *boss*," Patt pulled back and looked at the tax officer, "*breaking* is literal." "Perhaps, then, you should consider a change in employment," Pectin smiled. "Have you considered accounting?" "Did it for fifteen years," Patt made a face. "I like social work much better." "I think you just like being social," a new, yet very old, voice joined in the Pectin/Patt private conversation. Patt winced and turned to face Vachon. Beyond his shoulder, seven smiling Vaqs waved at Patt. "We missed you," the Spaniard continued. "So, we came back looking for you." "How sweet of you," Patt responded with sarcasm. "You ought to be thanking me, rather than dissing me," Vachon said, leaning close to the mature one. "Haven't you been enjoying your little interlude with Pector?" "You look familiar," Pectin gave Vachon a withering look. "Didn't you run that greasy spoon known as the Pitted Peach?" "And, weren't you one of our favorite customers?" Vachon replied with a smile. Then the dark-haired ex-vampire turned his attention back to the mature Vaquera. "What *do* you see in this guy. I'm beginning to regret I arranged for this little rendezvous." "So, if you're having second thoughts, relinquish story control and hop out of the harddrive," Patt suggested. "Did you arrange for LaCroix to be here too?" Vachon followed Patt's gesture and noted the elder sitting at the back of the room. "Nope . . . not me. He's here all on his own. Wonder why?" "Go find out," Patt said. The Spaniard grinned. "Why would I want to do an idiot thing like that? Better to send dunces into LaCroix's lion's den. Let's send Pectin--he's expendable." Pectin huffed and turned his back on Vachon. "Looks like you don't have story control over him," Patt reported with glee. Vachon shrugged. "He doesn't matter. He'll be history soon anyway." Patt's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" Vachon smiled. "Don't worry . . . it will all turn out okay. Time you went and chatted with your Nunkies." Patt paled. "Not me. I'm not no dunce." Vachon glared at the woman. "Plot advancement." Patt stuck her tongue out at the Spaniard and reluctantly walked to the back of the bar. She paused just behind LaCroix, hoping the writer wouldn't force her into this encounter. "Well, Ms. Elmore," the deep, velvet voice addressed her. "It appears you've discovered yet another of my secrets." "Secrets?" Patt moved closer, so that she could observe LaCroix's expression. His face was passive, only altered when he took a sip of his drink. "You've found my private place," LaCroix continued, taking a drink of the amber liquid. "This out-of-the-way shack where I could come to avoid the trials of leadership in mortal guise. My personal area where I could unwind and unstress, and try my best to hold onto what tenuous power I allowed my ego to convince myself I still possessed." "Oh . . . monologue time." Patt felt just a bit droolish as she slipped into the booth, sitting across the table from LaCroix. "Hardly," LaCroix admonished the woman. "A penance more precisely. Your faction nemesis, that Grand High Problem, said it best. 'Mortality is the pits.'" Patt nodded sympathetically. "I know someone who can turn her into a newt." LaCroix almost smiled at this. "The MercBard is not the problem, Ms. Elmore. Mortality is. For with mortality, comes aging--a concept I know you're familiar with." "I prefer the term maturity," Patt replied. "But, maturity or aging, the word denotes the passing of time and the eventual deterioration of the mind and body," LaCroix continued. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out an object, tossing it on the table. "Can you identify that?" he demanded. Patt looked at the item. "Eyeglasses?" she offered. LaCroix squinted at the woman and said slowly. "Bi-focals." Patt swallowed hard, choking back the laughter. LaCroix continued to withdraw items from his pockets, placing them on the table--Tylenol Arthritis Formula , Pepcid AC , BenGay , and prescriptions bottles of Lescol and Prinivil . "Well," Patt grinned. "At least they haven't prescribed Viagra yet." LaCroix gave the woman a chilling look. "I haven't emptied all my pockets," he said dryly. Patt made a *whoops* face and tried to fade back into the plastic back of her seat. "Sorry." "Don't be," LaCroix huffed. "These are the *realities* of age. I was a male, well into my forties, when Vesuvius erupted. I had already lived a lifespan longer than most of my contemporaries in the military. If I had remained mortal in 79 a.d., I would most certainly have expired within a few more years, had I continued the life I had chosen." He took another drink, his eyes deep in the past. "I have . . . scars. Pits on my body which mark my sojourns in the forests of Britannia and the deserts of Judah. While vampiric, the blemishes faded. With the loss of mortality, the scars are back, and with them the pain that was inflicted." Seeing Patt's confused look, LaCroix said simply. "My body aches." "Oh." LaCroix sighed and placed his drained glass on the table. "Leave me now," he said quietly. "Yes, Sir." Patt got up immediately, intending to bolt for the door. As she did, LaCroix caught her arm, his head gesturing toward his empty glass. "And, when you come back, bring the bottle." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 02/? patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KcKX-0007Js-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 02:51:13 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2092; Sat, 28 Aug 99 02:48:59 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3874; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 02:48:59 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 23:55:44 -0700 Reply-To: Shele Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shele Subject: WAR: NA: Getting Back In The Game 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 47c7fc2cf26e313f9f2ece6352a61607 Title: Getting Back In The Game 1/1 Faction: Nunkies Anonymous Day/Time: Thursday, 8/26. Really early in the morning -- about 9:30am or so; takes place immediately before Rabble Rousing 1/1 Written By: Shele Participants used with permission ****** Shele passed through the Shrine kicking an imaginary tin can. Now that she had full use of her limbs, she'd planned to resume torturing Ted. Their relationship had changed into some kind of touchy-feely thing that was all good and fine when she needed someone to fetch and carry her, but those halcyon days were *so* over. Ted had run for cover, surprisingly enough, leaving her victimless. As she walked along the balcony overlooking the pool, she espied KC and her minions. "Look! It's the Ratboy!" Shele ducked down behind the railing in time to see KC jump up in horror, knocking two of the KCettes into the pool. The Evil KC of the Shrine shook her closed hand at the second level while chortling her most frightful chortle. "I'll get you for that, my Poet! You and your little Ted, too! Now..." She resumed addressing her followers. "After we get the big tire... What are you doing? This is no time for a swim, kinder latkes!" True to form, KC's attention had been quickly diverted back to plotting and planning. Shele started pacing back and forth wondering where to begin. Suddenly, like a scene from a girl detective novel, she saw something glittery outside. Opening a benign looking door, she grabbed a fireman's pole, slid down to the first floor and made her way outside. Finding the pile of lumbar remnants and discarded findings that was the haystack for her needle, Shele tried to determine the right area to search. She finally just sighed and started climbing. *creeeeaaaaak* Looking back later, she claimed to remember hearing a snap, but, at the time, the collapse of her mountain came as a shock. "AAAAAAAAiiiiieeeee ---- OOF!" Taking a second to catch her breath, Shele took in her new surroundings. After everything had finished falling, she became aware of a warbling, slightly tinny sound coming from....well...her 'heinder'. Shoving some 2x4s out of the way, she rolled over in time to see the last few seconds of LaCroix cavorting with a purple dinosaur. A slow grin oozed across her face. "I have a very good feeling about this." ******* End: Getting Back In The Game 1/1 From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:18 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KcPd-0007RA-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 02:56:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5265; Sat, 28 Aug 99 02:54:17 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3935; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 02:54:17 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 00:00:58 -0700 Reply-To: Shele Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shele Subject: WAR: NA: Rabble Rousing 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1e191ee7b0608f43752826f8bbef8e91 Title: Rabble Rousing 1/1 Faction: Nunkies Anonymous Date/Time: Thursday morning. Early. Say, 10 o'clock-ish; takes place immediately after Getting Back in the Game 1/1 Written by: Shele Participants used with permission. ********** A voice cracked across the PA system. "Attention troops! Monkey boys have been in the facility!" Silence. "Hello? I think someone attacked the Shrine when the Vaqs were here!" "Free Nunkies Pops in the Assembly Room." A rumble of feet turned into a roar as Addicts rushed in. Bram's new boots were leather soled and she skidded into the room, bumping into Christy hard enough to knock the latter's mouse ears to the floor. As Christy bent down to get them, another latecomer ran into Bram pushing her back against the crouching Addict. Up and over, Bram rolled backwards across Christy and found herself a good five feet from where she'd started. "Hey, no cutting!" Christina pouted at the Addict who'd magically appeared in front of her. "I was here before you -- the end of the line's back there!" She pointed past other Addicts who'd made their way to the meeting. "I wasn't trying to cut, I was pushed up here!" "Whatever." Christina turned away. "Just so long as you don't try to cut in front of me." "I said I wasn't trying to.... Look, don't take that attitude with me, missy!" Bram huffed, then calmed herself by picturing the tall redhead as a newt. "Perhaps I can interest you in a little culinary tidbit after the meeting, as my way of saying 'sorry'?" She blinked rapidly to imply allurement. Christina smiled sweetly, "That's very kind of you -- allow me to bring a liquid refreshment?" "Certainly." Bram mirrored Christina's expression as she calmly walked back to her place. Both mentally checking off shopping lists of ingredients for their potent specialties. Elsewhere in the crowd, someone shouted "Look, a velociraptor!" in a futile attempt to move up a few places. The murmuring grew in pitch as others tried their hand. "Landshark." "Candygram." "Spanish Inquisition." The whole group replied, "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" Shele took a moment and waited for her eyes to return from whence they'd rolled. Then, in a soft non-PA using voice, she started speaking. "Those not standing in an orderly fashion by the count of ten will be on grout duty for the next two weeks. One.... Two.... " She continued counting as the group started quieting down. "Since when does *she* give out grout duty?" Christy whispered to Bram, only to receive a stereophonic 'shhh!' fromt their neighbors. "...Eight.... Nine.... Ten. Very good." The Poet started pacing on the stage. A riding crop, okay - tinsel decorated wand, appeared in her hand. "The first order of business is Nunkies in Repose. Who has it? What have they been doing with it? When are we getting it back?" The wand darted in the air, emphasizing each question. She stopped moving to stare out into the crowd. "Someone out there," she thrust the wand out to the right, "has got one of most..." She moved the wand to the left and watched their heads move en masse. "Important tapestries..." The wand dropped down then raised suddenly. "Known to fandom." She made the wand disappear behind her back and heard a collective groan rise from the group. "Nunkies in Repose must be returned to us!" She took their murmuring for agreement and continued with her tirade. "Next issue at hand is that of Laurie MercBard, the Grand High Poobah of the Mercs." A loud booing arose from KC's area. "She's been far too friendly of late, offering to help write Conversion Day posts and such. I understand LaCroix has even hired her for a job. Yes, I know." Shele acknowledged the groups' dismay at the shocking turn of events. "She hasn't done anything overt, but just the mention of her name in an NA post should put us all on our guard! She may bribe you with sweets, she may offer you Nunkies Pops, she may even offer to help you write a story, but, and I can't stress this often enough, *be wary*! She is not what she appears." "The third and final order of business: this is War and we've been attacked" A collective gasp come from the Addicts. "Someone left their calling card while we were at the Church." She placed the small cube on the dais and hit it with a rubber mallet. Thankfully, the sound was still warbly and could not be clearly heard by the crowd, but the sight of Nunkies and an Anti-Nunklear Device together caused some Addicts to faint. "We must discover the parties responsible for this travesty and make them pay! I leave it to you, the Not-So-Vestal-Virgins, defenders of the Shrine, not to mention defenders of Nunkies himself, to ferret out these Mischief Makers and plot our revenge!" Amid the cheers of the crowd [the wand was out in the open again], Shele waved her arms in a rousing manner then strode out the side door. "I thought the GHP was our friend -- hasn't she been helping out our Leaders in this, their time of need? And she doesn't charge *that* much for Nunkies Pops!" Christy spoke out to the backs of her retreating faction-mates. KC clapped the Nunkateer on the back and growled in her most threatening manner. "We're gonna give that MercBard a _real_ Nunkies Pop!" ********* End: Rabble Rousing 1/1 From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KcYU-00028Z-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 03:05:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2103; Sat, 28 Aug 99 03:03:25 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4051; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 03:03:25 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 01:59:20 -0500 Reply-To: Lisa Luksus Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: CUZ: Pussyfooting around the Church To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f39d34e0433c4ab1092231c521a01203 Pussyfooting around the Church by Cousin Tok, with input from Cousine Celeste Celeste knocked on the door of Tok's office. After a moment with no response, she tried again. Still no answer. Venturing into the office, she found Tok, traces of peanut butter (necessary to recover from the George fight that morning) in her hair, dozing on the open PTD catalog. The bath accessories and supplies section, she noted. The Cousinly kitties were scattered around the office, napping. Except for Gandalf, the former vamp-kitty, who glared at the Cousine from atop the computer monitor. "Ooh, good glare, little kitty! I give it a 6.7! Ummm...Tok?" She tapped the Cousinly leader on the shoulder and jumped back. "AAAHHH!!! No! Get away from --" Tok's head jerked up and her whole body tensed. After a minute, she seemed to realize where she was. "Oh, Celeste, it's you. Um...you didn't run into any giant Day-planners out in the hall, did you?" "Nope. I just came in to tell you we've gotten all those stuffed animals the Vaqs dropped on us the other night all cleaned up. They're good as new." "Wonderful. I've made arrangements to donate them to one of the local children's charities." Tok searched on her desk and came up with a scrap of paper. "Here's the contact info. See to it they're delivered, okay?" "You got it. It's the least I can do after last Saturday night!" Celeste sketched an ironic salute and scurried back to her office. "And meanwhile, I think I've come up with a way to get back at them for hijacking the Nightcrawler's show." Tok cleared the screen saver and studied the formula again. "I just have to get this made up in a large enough volume." ********** "This is very potent stuff," Tok explained as she and the crew donned protective suits. "We don't want to get any of it on ourselves." "Explain to me again what this stuff does," requested Shelley as she pulled up her suit's zipper. "This," Tok began, indicating the cannisters behind them in the van, "is essentially a feline aphrodisiac. It will attract every unaltered tomcat within a five mile radius. That, we knew about, my friend who came up with this and I. We figured it would make it easier to trap ferals and get them rescued and adopted. That was before I discovered the effect that it has on *females*. A concentrated whiff of this stuff can make even a spayed female act like she's in heat." Tok chuckled. "You should've seen the way dear Miss Willow treated the boys after she caught some." "And the point of that is?" asked Rhonda as she pulled her hood on. "Remember Vachon's cat, Carmecita? Have you ever had to *listen* to a female cat in heat?" "You're evil," said Maria as she donned her gloves. "Truly evil." "Thanks, I do try." Tok grinned. "We'll hose down the outside of the church, and squirt some into the ventilation system, and through the cat door, if they've got one. And before we go, we leave these brochures about the low-cost spay/neuter program all over the place." Shelley shook her head . "This stuff isn't dangerous, is it?" "I'm hurt. You should know by now I'd never do anything that would hurt a cat. It's non-toxic to humans and cats, and it'll wear off in a day or so. A good sustained rainstorm would probably wash it off the building and dissipate it." Tok grabbed her high-powered sprayer and slung it on her back. "Okay, team, let's do it." The group of Cousins piled out of the back of the van and spread out across the church grounds. It didn't really matter if the Vaqs' security system spotted them, they'd figure out who it was anyway. No point in getting revenge if they don't know they're being gotten, Tok figured. So long as she didn't have to use her PTD coupon to conjure up a Get Out of Jail Free card. Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KccJ-0002Bw-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 03:09:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2111; Sat, 28 Aug 99 03:07:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4174; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 03:07:23 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 03:09:14 EDT Reply-To: MadiHolmes@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Alicia Madison Subject: WAR: GSS: Over the Sangria <1/1> To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fbdb6f6381e01e77f7ec524361b9f1b7 Back Post Over the Sangria (sequel to the Lobsters...) By: sHolmes Time: Friday Morning, around 7 AM Place: CERK Cousine Celeste used with permission this is my first war post {EVER}, so bear with me ****** Agent sHolmes bolted awake, her dart pistol already pulled from her slept-in black leather jacket. Another sound emanated from the General's room. Holmes was already at the door, pounding on the heavy wood with her right hand, as she held the gun in her left. "General, are you all right?" She asked, scenarios already running through her head. "If you do not quit that racket, I will kill you with my bare hands," came a low reply. "I do not need a body guard, and I need less of a mother hen. Please leave, before I have your Agent status rescinded." sHolmes set her jaw, having heard the speech many times before. "This was a voluntary assignment, General. I will not backdown simply because you feel that it is 'crimping your style'. My perogative is not whether you want me here or not, but simply to make sure that you are safe. That new faction out there is still wreaking havoc, and I will not sit around while there is a war going on. Th Enforcer Faction is acting out irratically, and, until you are back to normal, you get me to play guard duty." sHolmes swallowed painfully, hoping that Uncle would understand. Five minutes later, the lock on the door slid loudly, and the door swung open. The normally stoic vampire stood as tall as he could with blood-shot eyes. "Let me make this perfectly clear, you will leave me alone, you WIll keep your first aid box, sunblock lotion, and other paraphenilia out of my sight, or else you will die when I become a vampire again." "Damn Celeste, I should never have agreed to dinner last night." she muttered under her breath. "I will do what I please; you are not my mother. The Enforcer faction is nothing. It is a mere trifle. It is not worth my concern nor time." Lacroix looked down at the 5 foot 4 GSS agent. "Perhaps this 'assignment', as you so aptly call it, is more of a penance. You seem to obsess about this faction more than the others. Perhaps because of your help in creating it." He smiled grimly. "I have nothing to do with that faction, and you know it. They are not my responsibility. I made that perfectly clear the first time they showed up." sHolmes turned, heading to her light brown leather bookbag. Taking out the first-aid box, she opened it, and grabbed the aspirin. "Here, this will help with the headache. I'll go make some Earl Grey Tea." She handed the pills over, and watched him chew. Almost immediately, he spat it out. "The cure seems to be worse than the disease." "You don't chew them, you swallow them whole... WITH water." She added quickly, heading to the kitchen. "Just look at the bright side, the last time you were hungover, several cities were decimated, a mountain blew its top, whole populations were buried under about 15 tons of ash, and archaeology had a field day with its discovery. Maybe by tonight, you'll be back to your old, cold self with no need of my services." "I never needed 'your services' in the first place," he retorted, unsuccessfully trying to screw the aspirin cap back off, and the bitter taste out of his mouth. "Child safety cap. Funny, I could get that thing off when I was six." sHolmes returned carrying a tray filled with a bonechina tea set. She sat it down on a table, and filled two cups full of the dark brown tea. "I'd offer you some coffee, but it seems so... Perky-ish." She handed a cup over, and took back the aspirin bottle. She popped the lid off, and took out two more pills. "Time to sober up, it's going to be a... long day." she stated, mentally going over the plans and whatnot, making sure that his very last remaining time as a mortal would be... memorable. sHolmes Cousine Formidable/GSS From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KdDq-0002JD-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 03:48:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2193; Sat, 28 Aug 99 03:46:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5409; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 03:46:09 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 00:49:15 -0700 Reply-To: J Jaxson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: J Jaxson Subject: WAR: DP: On the way to the Circle (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5228b8d72676c2959dbc189166e97bd4 War DP: On the way to the Circle (1/1) Place: Toronto DP Mansion in particular/later at the park Time: Thursday, August 26th after 7pm By: JJaxson Rushing around to get dressed was a pain in the neck. But after spending all afternoon painting she had a half hour to get ready in. Otherwise June was gonna be one late puppy. She wouldn't have been late either if she hadn't called home. Being without her familiars was okay occasionally. Missy was getting old and couldn't take the journeys anymore, so she had let them stay home. It just meant she missed them more. Talking over the phone for thirty minutes had really put her behind. At least the mansion was back in order. Everyone was back to a somewhat normal state. Although they still had the painting or repaint the outside. Baby pink doesn't grow that well on ya. Sifting through the closet for her ceremony robes and gowns June started muttering to herself. Ticking off things needed to do and things that had to be done. She found herself talking to herself again. Happens all the time. 'Okay nimwit whadya do with it' 'Aha here it is' Turning around she almost stumbled over Peep. 'Hey where've you been. Haven't seen you all week.' With a shy wiggle Peep pulled out a pair of slippers from behind her and set them down at June's feet. Then with a little wave she dashed out of the room. Shaking her head at the demon and demons in the plural form. Couldn't live without them. Oh well. Spreading her clothes on the canopy bed she laid them out. Time to get ready for tonight's circle. She had twenty minutes to get a shower and change. Twenty minutes later to the minute she was admiring her clothes in the mirror. With the swish of the knee length tunic and outer robes she was reminded of a sari, which is one of the reasons she got the outfit. The other would be the clothe. Made out of fine linen and gauzemere it was a good thing there are several layers of it. Not to mention the blue complimented her eyes. Adding the finishing touched of scent and combining her should length hair she gave herself one finally look of approval. Then went to add candles, tarot card, BOS, pencil, and altar clothe to her knapsack. Only stopping to pick up her athane and keys she turned out the light. In the kitchen she picked up the box of crackers. A thin layer of graham with a coating of chocolate and marshmallow, they almost resembled smores. Those and a gallon of grapefruit juice were her contribution to the circle tonight. After closing her sack, which weighed a ton now she headed to the door. It was time to pay tribute to her goddess. MoonTyger June (^^)**MS**DP**MN**FKP**ETC... :-P THE BLONDE WITH BRAINS mrms_katz@worldnet.att.net "You're just jealous cause the voices only talk to me!" FK Faction Webring http://moonprincess.net/webring/ FK Backgrounds http://moonprincess.net/backgrounds/ From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KfI8-00064J-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 06:00:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3484; Sat, 28 Aug 99 05:58:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8192; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 05:58:42 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 03:00:38 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR: Nothers/Mercs: A Nother Time, a Nother Place (03/03) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1e366a126bd75feaba4e938e01b9962d Title: A Nother Time, A Nother Place (03/03) written by: Fleurette B, NightDancer & Liz the Lucky Time: Monday 23 Aug 99, during the Party at the Shrine & After Part 2 of this story Place: Shrine to Nunkies Disclaimers: All real people (Nothers & Cindy) used by permission. Vachon appears courtesy of the Vaqs. Cindy, FoD extraordinaire, looked over the crowd and saw the last thing she expected. It couldn't be him. Crossovers weren't allowed in the War. She weaved her way through the mass of people, going up to him. Richie?" "Now weah on ahth did yah evah get the ideah this was Richay?" a blonde figure next to him asked. "This heah's Daf." "LIZ?!" Cindy's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "What happened to your hair?" "It's a wig, ducks," the woman next to them said. "Can't have an Elaine with red hair, now can't we?" At least Kat was recognizable. So was the sword on the back. "Oh, I get it, you're Richie, Aria and Elaine," Cindy said, a light bulb going off over her head. "Say, can I borrow Daf?" "What for?" Daf squeaked. So far, Liz, Kat and JJ had *mostly* kept their hands off of him, but he didn't know about Cindy. "Just a dance," Cindy said innocently. "The band's playing, if you haven't noticed." "I-I guess so," Daf stammered. "If it's okay with Kat and Liz." "Dahlin', yah've read the Elaine Saga, sah yah know what Elaine theinks abou' that," Liz told him. "Have fun an' enjoy yahself. Jus' beh shoah tah come back tah us aftahwahds." "Go on, knock yaself out," Kat agreed. The two of them were watching Daf and Cindy on the dance floor when they were startled by a voice right behind them. "Who's that out there with Daf?" Dancer asked curiously. Liz looked up, amazed. "Yah know, I theink that's the quietest theing yah've evah dahn, sneakin' up ahn us lahke that. How deid yah dah eit?" Dancer cast her a glare, but ignored the remark. "No, seriously, who is she?" "That's Cinday." "Cindy from--" Kat nodded. "Right." "Oh. Cool." The other girl pulled up Daf's empty chair at their table and seated herself in it, watching the dancers on the floor with a wistful look. "You don't suppose any of them know how to swing dance, do you?" "Ah dahn't know. One ahv the vampiahs maht." Liz turned to her friend and only then noticed what she was wearing. Dancer was clad in a forties-style knee-length black floral-print dress with a full skirt, short sleeves and a white collar, wearing white bobby-sox with saddle shoes and a string of pearls, and with her hair caught up in a ponytail. "Ah see yah dressed fah the possibilitay." Dancer shrugged. "I figured it wouldn't hurt." They were still sitting there a few moments later when the dance ended and Cindy and Daf returned to the table. "Thanks for loaning him to me, guys," she stated cheerfully, her eyes shining. She turned to the stableboy. "And thank you, too, for the dance." Daf smiled sincerely at her and leaned in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "It was my pleasure, Cindy." The other girl looked about ready to melt, but somehow she managed to make it away from the table and back to whoever she'd been hanging out with before. Daf turned, still smiling, to his two escorts. "Ladies, may I have the pleasure?" Liz nudged Kat. "Yah fehst. Ah may have othah plans." She glanced significantly in the direction of the once-immortal reason for the party. Kat grinned. "Gonna give him a taste of Elaine, love?" Liz just shrugged. "Weh'll seh." A few minutes after Kat and Daf went out onto the dance floor, NightDancer disappeared as well. Liz reflected with a smile. By the time Dancer returned in her newest outfit, the bewigged Merc/Nother was taking her turn on the dance floor with Daf, and Kat was holding down the fort at their table. "Having fun?" she asked, slipping carefully into one of the seats. Kat nodded. "So far. Nice dress." The other girl smiled. "Thanks." This last number was probably the most elegant of all NightDancer's choices for the evening. It was an emerald green satin gown that bore a suspicious stylistic resemblance to the dress worn by the heroine in "The Rocketeer." It was sleeveless and fitted exactly to her figure with just a bit of cleavage showing. The fabric was gathered at the waist and again at the hips before falling to the floor in a silky swish, the skirt wasn't full, but not tight either. With it she wore long white gloves and a single dark emerald encircled by diamonds on a little gold chain around her throat. (All fake, of course.) For this outfit, Dancer had even taken the time to redo her hair and makeup. "Do you think he'd dance with me if I asked him?" Kat wondered aloud, pointing. Dancer followed the line of her eyes. "Who, Vachon?" The other girl nodded. "I don't really know him." "I'm sure that would hardly matter to him," her friend chuckled. "Why don't you ask him?" "That's what Ah've behn tellin' heh all naht," Liz's voice came from behind them as she and Daf finished their dance. She sounded a bit irritated. "Sah fah, sheh hasn't leistened." Daf lifted Liz's gloved hand to his lips before turning to the last of his three Nother admirers. "Miss Dancer," he asked politely with a twinkle in his eyes. "May I have the pleasure?" "Go on," Kat teased. "You've got to live up to your handle sometime in this story." Blushing a little, Dancer allowed herself to be led away out to the floor as Jon Secada's "Angel" began to play. At the table, Liz gave her cybersib a Look. "So, why haven't you asked him yet?" The other woman looked uncomfortable. "I don't know." "Come on," Liz coaxed, sinking into the next seat. "You want to dance with him, ask him. It won't kill you--he's not even a vampire right now, and you're carrying a sword." "Which is a good reason for him not to want to come near me," her friend retorted. "Oh, for God's sake!" Liz stood, grabbed Kat by one hand and began to pull her towards the dance floor. "Vachon?" she spoke up as they reached the chocolate-eyed Spaniard. He turned to face them and blinked twice. "Javier, theis eis mah friend, Kat. Would yah please put heh aht ahv heh miserah bah askin heh tah dance?" Javier smiled and reached out one hand to take the wordless Kat's free one. "Seria un placer, Senorita," he accepted, looking her right in the eyes. "May I have this dance?" Kat nodded and Liz watched with a smugly satisfied look on her face as the Spaniard swept her friend into his arms and began to sway with her in tune to the song. END ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 28 08:55:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KcfT-0003AA-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 03:12:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5300; Sat, 28 Aug 99 03:10:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4404; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 03:10:37 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 02:06:32 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: Oops! (mild timestamp goof) To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f18655446c47edff28cdc1688ba24d43 In the post I just dropped (WAR: CUZ: Pussyfooting around the Church), I made a couple of minor timestamp errors. At the beginning, I said: > Friday is correct, but it should be 8/27. Later on, I said: > Again, Saturday is correct, but the date should be 8/28. That's what I get for posting at 2 AM, after drinking a glass of wine. :-) Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Sat Aug 28 13:06:47 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KiJI-0001bh-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:14:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4261; Sat, 28 Aug 99 09:12:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6936; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:12:08 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:10:31 +0900 Reply-To: Cousin Raven Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: Enforcers/NA: It's a Wet, Wet World... (1/2?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1880f435b2b6c01cbc0a51d7677690d5 Enforcers/NA: It's a Wet, Wet World... (1/2?) Continuation of "What if you threw a party..." By Cousin Raven(raven@naturesong.com), Lady Enid (EnidKnight@aol.com), and Christy Stillman (NewCousin@aol.com) --------------------------- Wednesday 25 Aug appx 9pm Blackwood Arms Hotel Roof. Fellow Enforcers Used with Permission, Addicts used with Permission ------------------------ "You know," Christy said as the addicts sloshed back through the Ratpacker tunnels from Jenny Schanke's pet party, "if we hurry, we might be able to make that pool party those Enforcer folks are throwing." "Enforcers?! The big, scary vamps with the fangs that make them look like sabre-toothed tigers?" Ivy exclaimed. "You want to party with *those* guys?" "Well, actually, I think the human contingent goes by Enforcements, but yeah, I think it'd be fun," the redhead answered, mouse ears now back in place and bobbing as she nodded. "I mean, it's not like the vampire-type Enforcers are vampire types right now, anyway. Besides," she added, "it'll keep us out of the not-so-happy NunkMommy's way for a little while longer." Caren looked at the others, "Sounds like a plan to me!" Agreeing that facing Enforcers was a far better thing than facing a put-out NunkMommy, they decided to attend. Thus it was that Christy, Glennis, Dee, Caren and Ivy came to be at the Blackwood Arms, clad in bathing suits and coverups, and armed with pans of tiramisu and bags of Sacred Cold Water Balloons. (Ivy had refused to go anywhere near the Enforcer stronghold without *some* sort of weapon.) And thus it was that they stood on the roof of the building, hiding behind potted plants and looking at the pool and the immobile bodies scattered about. "My gawd!" Dee whispered. "They've killed their own people!!" "I'm outa here!" said Ivy, turning to make good her escape. Christy grabbed her and dragged her back. "Look...." One of the bodies lifted a hand and dragged a beer bottle closer to its lips. "They're not dead," Glennis said with a knowing grin. "But I'll bet tomorrow they'll wish they were." Caren hefted the bag of Sacred Cold Water Balloons she was carrying and grinned evilly. "I'd hate for them to waste the whole evening lying around plastered. What say we sober them up a bit?" Wicked grins in place, the addicts carefully set down the pans of tiramisu and armed themselves. ------------------------ Raven sighed. "But, nobody came! Not even the Ravenettes who RSVP'd, not the DP's who wanted to start a food fight with the Ravenettes...it's just a big (*#$*$ cluster!" Shadowman nodded in agreement. "It appears we're not an accepted part of the situation. That's normal for enforcers. Why would they want us around?" "But..." Raven said, "I'm so...disappointed." Something flew by Raven's face and hit Shadowman square in the chest. Ice cold water spattered everywhere, covering Raven and Shadowman. Shadowman felt a chill as the cold invaded his body, a feeling he hadn't experienced in eons. He closed his eyes to savor the feeling. "Oh my gawd, Christy," came a stage whisper. "You hit the big one!" Meanwhile, Raven wasn't so pleased. She looked around to see who had thrown the water balloon. "Okay," she said, "we will find you...come on out." Giggling greeted her. Shadowman heard the giggle and looked around for the source. He said to Raven, "It appears someone has decided to come after all..." "Yeah, and they're armed, whoever they are." Another balloon flew in an arc over the pool and landed on Enid's lap. "Ah!" she said, and quickly sobered. "I thought we were being nice here," "It appears," Raven said, "the rules have changed!" Another flurry of water balloons careened around the area, soaking every enforcer with ice cold water. Shadowman laughed and started throwing his wet clothes in the direction of the barrage. "Eeep!" Raven said when she saw he was down to his underwear. Enid cringed and grabbed the Shadowman arm. "Don't you dare!" She squealed. "Or what!" The Shadowman spat back. "Or this!" Enid exclaimed, grabbing a fistful of ice from the bar's cooler and shoving it down the front of his boxers. "#%$%^&^**&^%%!!!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. He quickly picked up Enid and tossed her in the pool. *Splash* "OH!" Enid gasped, thrashing around the pool. "Oh, me next!" Steve chimed, doing a cannonball into the pool with his clothes on. Kim, Kat, Kadira, Maria, Amber, Tyran, and Jen were all laughing hysterically. The night was saved. "Okay, everyone into the pool!" Raven shouted the order. Both Addicts and Enforcers leaped into the pool. Laughter could be heard throughout the Blackwood Arms. From - Sat Aug 28 13:06:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KiX6-0003Li-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:28:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6237; Sat, 28 Aug 99 09:26:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7521; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:26:23 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 06:28:20 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Special Announcement X-To: forkni-l@lists.psu.edu, fkwar10leaders@eGroups.com X-cc: phase3@gate.net, mclisa@mindspring.com To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 89ae459d5f2dfcd813c2b7909005ee2a Hello, Due to circumstances and a specific situation, we find it necessary to address an issue involving problems that came up during the war which have caused much discussion and debate regarding a new faction. A ONE TIME, *AND* ONE TIME ONLY allowance will be made for a series of posts. Before we get into this, and it is done with the coordination of our esteemed List Mistress, let us say that the rules of Forever Knight Wars have been laid down over many wars. The rule of thumb has been that the first declared faction for a particular character controls that character. Any subsequent factions must coordinate interaction with the controlling faction in order to use that character. This rule will not be changing, nor are we suggesting that it should. We support this rule one hundred and ten percent. Going forward, a web site will be developed where the rules will be laid out so that participants will be able to read them and pose questions outside a war, and to allow clarification when needed. During this war a new faction, formed to follow one particular character, started the war under a premise that they would have total access to that character that they chose to support. Unfortunately, well into the war, a disagreement came out which resulted in the new faction pulling out, and several posters who had done a lot of work in and out of that faction having to throw out their threads that interacted with that faction. We are not trying to say that either faction was wrong, it is clear that the controlling faction has, does, and will be the coordinators of their characters during war time. What this means is that if they do not agree with a post or series of posts, they do have the right to disallow them. What we *are* addressing is that the situation here was that one faction entered the war under the impression that the definition of their faction would allow them to have access to the character they followed. This access was disallowed by the controlling faction, which is and was their right to do. What we are doing with this special allowance is to allow the new faction to redefine the character they chose to follow. In this ONE TIME *AND* ONE TIME ONLY allowance, in a series of posts they will be allowed to use an alternate character to resetup their factional definition. In a series of posts that should drop today and/or tomorrow, the faction known as Nick's Harem will be shown that they actually were *not* involved with the real Nick, but with a Nick from an alternate reality that came across during War 8. (which they did not participate in, and as such were not aware that duplicate characters had come across). This Nick was assumed by them to be the real Nick and as such they believed through this war that they were involved with the real Nick. They will use Dru to reveal this to them, when they find that a portal has existed within their headquarters which allowed the alternate Nick to cross over (originally in War 8) and to interact with them as the real Nick. Going forward, this character will not be allowed in a war unless an alternate reality is used as part of the war premise. This character is being allowed to be used in this war only to allow them to redefine their faction and allow them to continue. Part of Forever Knight wars have been the abilities to compromise and to work out problems that have come up. There have been instances where dream sequences have been used when factions could not agree on the usage or participation of a particular character. In this case, a dream sequence would not have worked for their group. What we are attempting to do, is to allow them to modify their definition in such a way that future misunderstandings should not occur. These posts will be done in the final days of the war as a setup for their factions future participation in future wars, and in fiction that they will develop. This was NOT done because we disagreed with, or did not support the Knightie decisions. We DO support and will CONTINUE to support factions which coordinate their characters and participate in Forever Knight Wars. The rules regarding this, as we have said, are clear on this issue. This WAS done to allow a faction to continue in such a way that they will not run into problems as they have. This decision was not taken lightly, and without a lot of discussion by the WMs and the List Mistress. We formulated this allowance for the Harem as a ONE TIME AND ONE TIME only allowance and it WILL NOT be done again in the future. Part of setting up future wars will involve clarifying this type of situation before we get into a war. As was mentioned several times before, this is a ONE TIME AND ONE TIME ONLY allowance. The character the Harem will be using will not be used as a substitute for Nick, but rather as a way to show the reason they thought he was the Nick of this reality. As confusing as that last statement may be, it specifically means that the alternate character is the Nick of his reality, not the Nick of THIS reality. The war is near an end, and this solution will allow the new faction to finish in a way that sets up their participation for future wars. Thank you for your patience and understanding. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 28 13:06:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KipZ-0003yP-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:47:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4337; Sat, 28 Aug 99 09:45:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8102; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:45:29 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:26:53 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: CUZ: "Lobsters and Chowder and Crabs, Oh MY!" (3/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ec23183be05bed0432aa0f3c6a0f3eb0 "LOBSTERS AND CHOWDER AND CRABS, OH *MY*!" (3/?) By Cousine Celeste Input by Cousin Lisa Sorry this has taken so long to drop! RL problems have prevented me from writing! : ( Date: Saturday evening, August 21st A few hours after "I'll Get You My Pretty... And Your Little *Lobster*, Too!" Where: at The Barking Crab of Toronto McCousin McLisa McDavid appears because she goes where she wants to go. Everyone else appears because they were hungry and wanted a free meal. I gave the poor dweeb who's stuck waiting on the Cousinly table a name; it's Bob.... Their waiter -- whose name happened to be "Bob", by the way -- showed up with a black plastic garbage bag to pick up their Styrofoam soup bowls and other trash, then returned a few moments later, his arms laden with six green plastic lunch trays full of bright red (extremely dead) lobsters, plus mounds of cole slaw and ears of corn, a small plastic pill cup full of molten butter balanced carefully on each tray -- a remarkable example of equilibrium roughly equal to an extremely well-endowed Miss America contestant balancing on a pair of rollerskates while clad in a bikini and singing "On The Good Ship Lollipop", complete with gestures (and lollipops.) "Where're my crab legs?" demanded Lisa. The waiter shot her a look of disbelief. "What's he gonna do, pull them outa his butt, Lisa?" snarked Celeste, grinning. Engaged by the sight of all those steaming lobsters, no one noticed LaCroix joining the Cousine in a grin, nodding his appreciation of the jibe. "Wait a minute, I'm sorry, only five of these are yours; I must have grabbed another table's dinner," said Bob the waiter, indicating Tser's empty seat. "I just remembered, that chick took off with your sixth lobster." At that moment McLisa slid onto the empty spot on the bench. "Celeste's cat Scully always says, 'If you want to get yourself a new home, walk in the front door and make believe you just stepped out for a stroll and have only just returned,'" she said. "That's all right," said Lisa, playing the martyr... you'd think she'd learn, playing martyr never worked. They were never gonna shake McLisa, might as well bow to the inevitable. "We'll keep this one and buy the guy whose lobster we stole a new one." The waiter also bowed to the inevitable and left to get the two orders of crab legs. "I say, that's most uncommonly decent of you, my dear girl!" said LaCroix, beaming at Lisa. He reached across the table and patted her hand paternalistically. He was full of the joy of humanity and at least four glasses of Sangria. Jaws dropped all around. Celeste, however, was delighted at the transition. "Okay, mon General, attends-moi. This is how we break down a lobster...." She pulled the segmented tail section away from the thorax and LaCroix, fascinated, did the same to his lobster. "If there's green goop, you eat it. I don't know what the heck it is and I hope nobody ever tells me, but you eat it." There was no green goop, so the Cousine moved on. "My motto has always been, 'eat the tail first cos you might die before the end of the meal.'" "That's so wise, it's almost profound," Lisa dead-panned. She was already cracking open the claws, *her* favorite part. The Cousine expertly fractured the tail lengthwise by folding it in half, sides towards the middle, then pulled the white flesh out of its tight sheath, carefully freeing the fin-flesh with a gentle wiggle. LaCroix followed her lead, and regarded the tail meat he pulled from the shell as if he'd done some sort of magic trick. "Now what?" he said. "You eat it!" They did. It was delicious. TO BE CONTINUED: WE'RE STILL EATING OUR ENTREES.... ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Sat Aug 28 13:06:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kiph-0002fR-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:47:49 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6271; Sat, 28 Aug 99 09:45:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8116; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:45:33 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:34:17 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: CUZ: "Lobsters and Chowder and Crabs, Oh MY!" (4/?) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 524bb9632af1db1afcc05ebe068a8254 "LOBSTERS AND CHOWDER AND CRABS, OH *MY*!" (4/?) By Cousine Celeste Input by Cousin Lisa and Cousinly Leader Tok Date: Saturday evening, August 21st A few hours after "I'll Get You My Pretty... And Your Little *Lobster*, Too!" Where: at The Barking Crab of Toronto McCousin McLisa McDavid appears because she goes where she wants to go. Everyone else appears because they were hungry and wanted a free meal. Irving The Bad Waiter is my own creation, although there certainly seems to be enough of his type around, for-real. ...and so, everyone was happy, happy, happy at the Barking Crab of Toronto... except for one person: the young man who was supposed to be waiting the table next to the Cousinly party, Irving the Very Bad Waiter. He really was a very bad waiter and hated his job. He'd forgotten to bring a group of rich American college boys their Awesome Blossom , a yummy concoction of onion, batter, and grease, and they'd already asked for it three times. He bore down on the Cousinly table in a bit of a panic, his hands full of hot Blossom, his eye fixed on where he was headed, which is to say the next table over from where the Cousins and Uncle sat, where the college guys were doing jello shots. GSS Agent sHolmes had been enjoying her lobster when suddenly she snapped to attention. A potential incoming she could not place as either friend or foe, his face set in a mask of concentration, was moving at a fast clip towards LaCroix... since she could not place him as friend or foe, to her mind he was then automatically slotted into the "foe" camp... "Always suspect 'em until they prove it to you" was *her* motto. He seemed to have something roughly bomb-shaped in his hands... OMIGOSH! Perhaps it was one of those Evil Pink dye-bombs she'd heard about at the last GSS meeting?! She vaulted over the table, doing a half-gainer in mid-air, and landed on her feet, simultaneously grabbing the guy with her right hand and her pistol dart with her left. The pistol dart had been stashed in a special sheath in her inner coat pocket, the GSS version of katana-space -- she didn't pull it out, but if the creep made it necessary, she'd-- "Dinner *and* a show!" cried LaCroix, pleased at the impromptu cabaret. "Do I have the best followers, or what?" "Huh?" "Hey, I'm eating here!" "What *now*?!" "My cat says--" The GSS agent ignored all the distractions and shook her hapless opponent. If anything, he clutched whatever it was he held to his chest even more firmly. "What faction?" Cousin sHolmes barked out. "Uh, Awesome Blossom!" the poor guy said, his voice quavering. "Ah," said Cousin sHolmes knowingly, giving another shake, "that must be one of the newer 'fraction' factions." (Begging the question, who would the 'Awesome Blossoms' follow -- all those ugly $3.95-in-Canadian-money bouquets Nick was always buying Nat?) "Here, you take it!" burst out the bad waiter, his nerve totally shot. "I *quit*! I'm going to go into some other, safer, line of work! Like... like... like *food taster* for BILL GATES!" Irving (now The Very Bad Ex-Waiter) shoved his armload of Blossom into the GSS agent's hands and scurried away. While everyone had been occupied watching GSS Agent sHolmes play 'bad cop/worse cop' with Irving, Lisa had seen her chance and acted on it. She'd been quietly working her way around the table ripping the claws off of her fellow Cousins' lobsters. Like some sort of sea food-loving jackdaw, she was replacing the claws with lobster tails she had liberated from a tray Irving the bad waiter had conveniently placed next to her in order to serve the college guys, whereupon he'd suddenly remembered he'd forgotten the Blossom... and you know how that story ended. As I said, Irving was one really bad waiter. Lisa skillfully cracked and pulled out all the claw meat before anyone had a chance to notice her theft, then stashed the empty exoskeletons under the table. Celeste took this moment to glance down at her plate and found herself somewhat taken aback, because her plate held, not her lobster, but some sort of nuclear accident. It had become a fabled two-tailed, no-clawed lobster. "Cool," said the Cousine. She wasn't about to look a gift lobster in the... uh, mouth. She cracked the second tail open and added its shell to the free-form body-parts sculpture she'd been creating as she ate her way through the lobster. Slender claws that had been ripped out and sucked hollow fanned up out of the discard pile in an artistic fashion. The inebriated college guys over at the next table had enjoyed the show, not often having the opportunity to watch blonde chicks in black leather jackets go vaulting over tables except perhaps on movie theater screens, but the show was over and now they just wanted to be fed. Like twelve-year-old-boys at camp, which is what they were at heart, they took up their plastic cutlery and pounded the ends on their picnic table, yelling in unison, "We wanna eat! We wanna eat! We wanna eat!" Bob the waiter came out of the kitchen in a tizzy, assuming that the Cousinly table was causing trouble, what with them being insane and all. To his surprise, he found it was the group of college kids kicking up all the ruckus. Then it occurred to him that if this had been any other night but the one the lunatics at table seven had chosen to eat there, he'd have known who represented trouble-in-the-making -- I mean, c'mon, fraternity boys doing jello shots, *duh*. "Okay, guys, let's calm it down here," he said, looking around for Irving. He didn't realize that the college boys hadn't been fed yet, or he would never have been so foolhardy and said what he said next: "Can I get you your bill?" Screams of drunken outrage followed that innocent question. It sounded like the Monkey House at the zoo when the zookeeper is ten minutes late for feeding time. Tok, who had been matching the General on the Sangrias, stood up. "Oh shut up, you... you... you *FRAT RATS*!" she commanded, waving a king crab leg at them. 'That'll get the little creeps,' she thought blearily, 'Put 'em right... right, uh, in their place....' She found the room gently tilting as she fought to remain upright, rather spoiling the imposing effect she'd hoped for. "Oooooo...." LaCroix had been listening to the waiter-abuse with a sort of gentle amusement. "Now, now; my dear Tok," he admonished, guiding her back to her seat and pouring her yet another glass of Sangria. "These young men appear to be hungry. The whole world is hungry! What a sad, hungry world we live in." He sighed, contemplating a sad, hungry world, then turned and spoke in the general direction of the frat boys. "Gentlemen! It would be my greatest pleasure, and the pleasure of each of these lovely young ladies, to buy each and every one of you fine young men a lobster dinner! After all, if my darling Lisa here can buy a stranger a dinner, I must live up to her stellar example and do the same, mustn't I? Waiter!" The "frat rats" were elated. "Duuuuude, that is so cool!" "The old dude's got a harem! Wanna share, old dude?" "Hey! The old dude's all riiiiiight!" "You are like a totally great human being, duuude!" Of course, Lisa, being rather opportunistic, was contemplating whether the General was feeling human enough to part with the bust that he kept in his bathroom. She'd have to remember to ask about it later. THAT WAS THE ENTREE: TO BE CONTINUED WITH THE DESSERT. ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Sat Aug 28 13:06:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KjOH-00054t-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 10:23:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4428; Sat, 28 Aug 99 10:21:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9615; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 10:21:22 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 10:23:11 EDT Reply-To: Libratsie@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: RP: THE GREAT BIG DON'T WE FEEL SO SORRY FOR OURSELVES PITY PARTY (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f59ff041375e7902dbc4e59ff2f93389 THE GREAT BIG DON'T WE FEEL SO SORRY FOR OURSELVES PITY PARTY (01/01) TIMELINE: Friday night, August 27, 1999 DISCLAIMER: Everyone used with everyone's permission yada yada yada. By Libby Singleton "LIBS!" Screed shouted, breaking off bits of chocolate from his very large chocolate bar and popping them in his mouth as he transversed one of the Ratpack tunnels. "LI.... oh!" He nearly tripped over her, or rather the sleeping Barnabas who immediately woke up, rolling onto his back whining to be petted. Libby didn't bother looking up. She sat with her knees tucked beneath her chin, rats climbing all over her. In fact, rats were everywhere. Sometimes piled one on top of each other. "Whaddayawant,eh?" she muttered. "Nuthin' meself," Screed admitted. "Jest wanderin' about wonderin' where ya wuz. H'all the udders h'are taken a bit o' the shut eyes h'an Oi wuz gonna sees h'if ya h'ad inny o' them cheesy poofs h'in ya pocket. Wuzn't gonna wake ya, figgered ya wouldna mind Ol' Screed jest nibblin' a few. But Oi couldna find ya." Libby shrugged. "H'ain't got no more cheesy poofs. The lil' ratsies et 'em. 'Et 'em H'ALL! Jest 'ow me day's been goin', ya know." She emphasized her point with a loud raspberry. Screed popped another piece of chocolate in his mouth as he sat down beside her. "H'aren't ya bein' the sour drawers h'an pickle puss." "Why shouldn't Oi' be?" Libs snapped. "H'it's me b'day!" "Oh, now tha' Oi'm mor-tality loik, Oi unnerstand 'ow tha' kin be a bit rough, 'avin' a b'day," Screed agreed sympathetically, popping more chocolate into his mouth. "Gettin' h'old an'...." "Oi'm NOT gettin' ol'!" Libs screamed, leaping to her feet. "Oi LUV 'avin' a b'day. The best h'age ta be h'is the h'age ya h'are, so's birf-dazes h'are 'unky-dorey-a-day h'in me book-a- lewk." "Then's wots crawled h'inta yar drawers an' bit yar bum?" Screed asked, popping another ... well, ya get the pick-tor. "NO ONE REMEMBERS!" Libs wailed with Barnabas howling in sympathy. "Wot wit' the war an' such. Oi LOIK 'ten-hut h'on me birf-day. Johnsie knew, but wot wit' me writin' fer the h'entire Ratpack cuz 'e's Real Loik buzy, me party went h'on the way-side." "Wat da ya mean, Real Loif h'in writtin'?" Screed asked, truly puzzled. "This h'iz real loif! Oi h'ain't no figmentation of me imagimentation!" "Never mind," Libby mumbled. "Me parental h'units, they flew h'all the way h'up 'ere ta T-town wot ta take me fer pizza, but they couldna stay cuz they h'are 'eadin' h'out h'on vacate-a-town h'in the morn h'an...." "Oh, so tha's h'all?" Screed sniffed indignantly. "Tha's na h'as bad h'as wot 'as 'appened ta me, bein' mor-tel h'in h'all." "Tha' h'all?" Libby replied sarcastically. "O' course Oi know wot ya're comin' h'at. Oi feelz sorry for ya, Oi do. But h'at least h'ain't no h'on iggy-snorin' ya!" "So's ya bein' a babe about ya barf-day cuz no ones givin' the poor babe a-ten-'utt, eh?" Screed snorted. "Oi loiked ya better h'az h'a vampy-expire!" Libs growled back. "Least ya 'ad manners then! Least ya could do now h'is give me a bit o' tha' chalk-a-lick bar!" "H'ain't fer dye-a-egg-tic types! It'd get ya blood sugar h'all h'up an' then ya'll REALLY be a crabby!" Screed snapped, spinning around to keep his chocolate out of Libby's reach. Libby turned red. Steam started coming from her ears. She folded her right hand into a fist and.... sat down. "Welcome ta the Libby and Screed's Great Big Don't We Feel So Sorry for Ourselves Pity Party, eh?" She sat back down, right on top of a bunch o' lil' ratsies. She scooted them out of the way. "Kin't abide h'a lumpy sit ya rumpy down," she explained. Screed started giggling, then when he sat down and ran into the same lil' ratsie situation, started out-right laughing. Libby joined in loudly. Screed smiled, reaching out to tousle Lib's hair. He then broke off a piece of chocolate. "'Ere, jest a wee bit far ya birdy- say." Libby took it, smiling widely. "Oi may loik ya bet-ter mortal loik, but Screed iz h'az Screed iz." "Ya're gettin' deep a'gin," Screed pointed out. "But Oi loik h'it tha' way." --END No wee lil' ratsies were harmed in the sitting down of this story, and my birthday, though quiet, was nice ;-). LibRatsie@aol.com From - Sat Aug 28 13:06:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KkBQ-0006hA-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 11:14:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4711; Sat, 28 Aug 99 11:12:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2991; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 11:12:03 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 11:12:22 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Special Announcement X-To: FK To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c28cbf6ed71bbbb4ed02cf693d147ded Forwarded for the WM, who is having trouble accessing the lists. McL. -----Original Message----- From: ForeverKnight Warlock To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Date: Saturday, August 28, 1999 9:28 AM Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Special Announcement >Hello, > > Due to circumstances and a specific situation, we find it necessary to >address an issue involving problems that came up during the war which have >caused much discussion and debate regarding a new faction. > > A ONE TIME, *AND* ONE TIME ONLY allowance will be made for a series of >posts. > > Before we get into this, and it is done with the coordination of our >esteemed List Mistress, let us say that the rules of Forever Knight Wars >have been laid down over many wars. The rule of thumb has been that the >first declared faction for a particular character controls that character. >Any subsequent factions must coordinate interaction with the controlling >faction in order to use that character. > This rule will not be changing, nor are we suggesting that it should. > We support this rule one hundred and ten percent. > > Going forward, a web site will be developed where the rules will be laid >out so that participants will be able to read them and pose questions >outside a war, and to allow clarification when needed. > > During this war a new faction, formed to follow one particular character, >started the war under a premise that they would have total access to that >character that they chose to support. > Unfortunately, well into the war, a disagreement came out which resulted >in the new faction pulling out, and several posters who had done a lot of >work in and out of that faction having to throw out their threads that >interacted with that faction. > We are not trying to say that either faction was wrong, it is clear that >the controlling faction has, does, and will be the coordinators of their >characters during war time. What this means is that if they do not agree >with a post or series of posts, they do have the right to disallow them. > What we *are* addressing is that the situation here was that one faction >entered the war under the impression that the definition of their faction >would allow them to have access to the character they followed. This access >was disallowed by the controlling faction, which is and was their right to >do. > What we are doing with this special allowance is to allow the new faction >to redefine the character they chose to follow. > In this ONE TIME *AND* ONE TIME ONLY allowance, in a series of posts they >will be allowed to use an alternate character to resetup their factional >definition. > > In a series of posts that should drop today and/or tomorrow, the faction >known as Nick's Harem will be shown that they actually were *not* involved >with the real Nick, but with a Nick from an alternate reality that came >across during War 8. (which they did not participate in, and as such were >not aware that duplicate characters had come across). This Nick was assumed >by them to be the real Nick and as such they believed through this war that >they were involved with the real Nick. > They will use Dru to reveal this to them, when they find that a portal has >existed within their headquarters which allowed the alternate Nick to cross >over (originally in War 8) and to interact with them as the real Nick. > Going forward, this character will not be allowed in a war unless an >alternate reality is used as part of the war premise. This character is >being allowed to be used in this war only to allow them to redefine their >faction and allow them to continue. > > Part of Forever Knight wars have been the abilities to compromise and to >work out problems that have come up. There have been instances where dream >sequences have been used when factions could not agree on the usage or >participation of a particular character. In this case, a dream sequence >would not have worked for their group. What we are attempting to do, is to >allow them to modify their definition in such a way that future >misunderstandings should not occur. > > These posts will be done in the final days of the war as a setup for their >factions future participation in future wars, and in fiction that they will >develop. > This was NOT done because we disagreed with, or did not support the >Knightie decisions. We DO support and will CONTINUE to support factions >which coordinate their characters and participate in Forever Knight Wars. > The rules regarding this, as we have said, are clear on this issue. > This WAS done to allow a faction to continue in such a way that they will >not run into problems as they have. > > This decision was not taken lightly, and without a lot of discussion by >the WMs and the List Mistress. We formulated this allowance for the Harem >as a ONE TIME AND ONE TIME only allowance and it WILL NOT be done again in >the future. > > Part of setting up future wars will involve clarifying this type of >situation before we get into a war. > > As was mentioned several times before, this is a ONE TIME AND ONE TIME >ONLY allowance. The character the Harem will be using will not be used as a >substitute for Nick, but rather as a way to show the reason they thought he >was the Nick of this reality. As confusing as that last statement may be, >it specifically means that the alternate character is the Nick of his >reality, not the Nick of THIS reality. > > The war is near an end, and this solution will allow the new faction to >finish in a way that sets up their participation for future wars. > > Thank you for your patience and understanding. > >More To Come, >FKWarlock >FKWar10 WarMaster >http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html >fkwarlocks@egroups.com > >______________________________________________________ >Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 28 13:06:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KkOd-0007CT-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 11:27:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3438; Sat, 28 Aug 99 11:25:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3608; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 11:25:47 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 08:27:46 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW: Desperately Seeking Scotswoman To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 967dd80e11c83acaa5dd9b7ac7cbda54 *************** WAR: Independent/CGW: Desperately Seeking Scotswoman by Brenda Bell Follows: Vampbear on walkabout ***** The Fiendish Glow, Thursday, 26 August, early evening "Pen? Pen?" Brenda poked in and out of the office, the supply rooms, and the two dining rooms looking for the Fiendish Glow's senior manager. She finally found her coming out of the "Ulsterman's" wine cellar, clipboard in hand. "What's up, babe?" "Open Circle." "Huh?" "Some of us FK pagans and friends are having an open Circle tonight. I'm thinking maybe some of them might be able to help us find Chris and Heather." "Whatever." "Think you can hold down the fort for a coupla hours?" "Sure babe, sure. Just be back for closing." "Robyn said it would only be a couple of hours. It's an open Circle, after all... can't do *too* much that would take up lotsa time." Pen shook her head, trying to recall what some of the actors she handled had told her about pagan practices. "I still think they've just decided to hole up in a love nest and get some serious (non-PG-13 word deleted) in there," she opined. "By the way, I'm gonna take Lucius with me; maybe with all the folk in the Circle, he'll have better luck than me in finding our missing couple." Pen laughed. "You really think the 'Destroyer of Pens' is going to find MacHeather and Chris in the middle of a park, when he couldn't even do it in the middle of the Glow?" "Tell me it isn't worth a shot?" Pen shrugged. "Believe what you want, babe." "Tequila Sunrise, Pen. Tequila Sunrise and giant jalapeno peppers." "And Clan MacIntyre dress???" (1) Brenda nodded. "Very well, give it a try." "Thanks, Pen. Seeya later," Brenda said as she skipped out of the back rooms and ducked upstairs to collect the once-black cat in question. ************ Some time later, in the park Covered by an old, heavy, raggedy Kinsale cloak, the neon-green Glow Worm edged her way into the park, carrying a blacked-out cat carrier and hoping that the Invisibility the cloak had previously afforded her would make her less conspicuous to those not used to the bioluminescence that was common to all Celtic Glow Worms. She needn't have worried; the park was lit with enough sodium vapor lighting to dampen the effect of her bright neon glow. As she approached the group of participants, she carefully slipped back the hood to expose her neon glow and graying hair, loosed the cloak, and lay it lining-side up on the ground. She placed the cat carrier on the worn quilted crepe-back satin before sitting down next to it, releasing the carrier door, and removing the squirming feline from its confines. She lifted Lucius to eye level and, after a few minutes, caught his gaze. "We must find MacHeather and Chris," she told the cat. "Mreowr," Lucius replied, slipping out of Brenda's hands and running in circles around the cloak, carefully sniffing the air each time. On the seventh circuit, he lifted his nose in the air, lowered it to the ground, picked up a twig between his forepaws and his teeth, raised his head, lowered it, and ran with the twig another three times around the cloak before sprawling out in the center of the cloak and drawing pictures in the air with it. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light, like a flashbulb going off in the dark... When the haze cleared, the cat had returned to his usual black color, and the woman, to her normal greyish skin tone. "Mreowr," the cat said, burying the stick in the sand. "Now we're raidy to go in," he purred, dragging his carrier towards the woman on the cloak. Gathering cat and carrier both, the woman slung the cloak over her arm and proceeded to where the group was forming. NOTES: ***** (1) Brenda and Pen are referring to the "glows" of some of the Glow Worms, and/or what they did about it. These glows intensify when we encounter the Faer Ones. See http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/glow.html for details. ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Sat Aug 28 13:07:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KlHo-0007g1-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:25:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3851; Sat, 28 Aug 99 12:22:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7712; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:22:48 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:12:24 -0400 Reply-To: Imajiru Mackenzie Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Imajiru Mackenzie Subject: Re: WAR: ADMIN: Special Announcement X-To: Forever Knight TV show To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU In-Reply-To: <199908281114.rsfv61.h81.37kbi3u@mx10.mindspring.com> Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: aba96086229d5660e63a2044179bcfc4 >> In a series of posts that should drop today and/or tomorrow, the faction >>known as Nick's Harem will be shown that they actually were *not* involved >>with the real Nick, but with a Nick from an alternate reality that came >>across during War 8. (which they did not participate in, and as such were >>not aware that duplicate characters had come across). As the WarMistress of War 8, I would like to state for the record the following: 1) I did originate the concept of the War 8 alternate reality, above and beyond the copyrighted characters of Forever Knight; the essential plot being discussed was written by me and is in fact MINE. 2) I did give permission for this storyline to be used by War-players in and around the confines of War 8, but at that time it was made very clear that the duplicate characters created in War 8 was to be used for War 8 ONLY, and was to have no effect on any subsequent wars. 3) Nobody has made any attempt to contact me regarding this matter to ask me if they might use my premise or storyline in this War. I have not and DO NOT GIVE MY PERMISSION for the storyline which I originated for War 8 to be used in this manner, and I consider this proposed usage to be plagiarism and theft. I hereby formally insist that this proposed storyline be dropped. Sincerely, Imajiru Mackenzie aka Cinderella aka Jamie Melody Randell imajiru@mindspring.com cinderella@mindspring.com immajer@mindspring.com From - Sat Aug 28 13:07:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kla9-0001mg-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:43:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3925; Sat, 28 Aug 99 12:41:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8709; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:41:44 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 11:37:45 -0600 Reply-To: Jennie Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jennie Subject: WAR: NP: Salon: Pretty, Bright, Shiny...(1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: eb1abfdf93e4cad2ad464cd479cbe7f7 NP: Salon: Pretty, Bright, Shiny...(1/1) (or: Chaos Reigns Supreme) by Finabair Time: Thursday afternoon, August 26, just after "Beauty is in the eye..." ------------------------------------- Jennie tried to pull her attention away from the stylists long enough to see whether or not Maureen was all right. Before she reached the fallen woman, however, she noticed a faint glow emanating from a back room. This distracted her enough that all she managed was patting Maureen's big toe and absently mumbling, "Oh, you're all right. You just rest for a bit." Despite a relative lack of cover and the fact that she usually found it impossible to sneak anywhere, the 'Pack was by now making such a ruckus that Jennie had no trouble slipping along the wall and into the back room she'd spotted, mumbling "Got to be an angel back here somewhere, I'm sure he'll be here," all the way. A sandy haired man with kind eyes looked up from the book he was reading. "Oh, good, you're mine, Andre..er, Jon," she mumbled, having moved close enough to note his nametag at the last second. "Excuse me?" he replied politely, not quite aware of what was happening yet. "Uh, I'm yours. Ah, next appointment. I'm your next appointment," she finally managed to get out, watching the man carefully for signs of flight. "Oh, I had the impression you wouldn't be here for an hour yet. Perm, right?" Jon replied, getting up and putting the book carefully on a shelf. "Well, actually, I was wondering if you've got some way to remove all the hard water deposits from it *other* than a perm; I kind of like the straight style these days, but the water's killing it. Feel this..." ****** Greg Mac looked dubiously at his next manicure, who was explaining to Jon exactly how she'd like her freshly treated hair to be trimmed. The explanation seemed to require Jon to run his fingers through said hair an awful lot. Greg transferred his gaze to Lee, who was prepping for a pedicure (the woman had insisted they both work on her at the same time, for some reason.) "So what do you think of this one? She insists on calling me 'Obie' and kept tugging at my braid, and then she told me she had 'the perfect outfit' for me to try on sometime," Greg asked the older man. "Yeah, she told me she likes to 'costume' just for the fun of it, and suggested I should find out just how much fun it could be. At least Obie sounds kind of like a name. She called me Kwai, which sounds more like a river. She's certainly friendly enough, though. I asked Mitch about this bunch when they first arrived and he assured me we won't find better tippers on the planet, so it would take a lot more than *that* to scare me off. Besides, this could be fun!" Lee flipped his just-past-shoulder-length hair back out of the way and both men finished their preparations with renewed energy. ****** Jennie felt, more than heard, the strident female voice; it seemed to reverberate through her closed eyelids. The woman's voice was particularly jarring against the backdrop of voices from her manicurist and pedicurist, who chatted pleasantly away in voices with wonderful accents and tones as they worked on her. It took a few seconds before she began to process what the words she was being assaulted with meant. "Excuse me, do you even work here? What are you doing here? Who said you could do that?" With each new sentence, the tone got even more reminiscent of fingernails being dragged across a blackboard. With a sigh, Jennie realized the receptionist was still doggedly trying to obtain some sort of control over the situation. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, then had to tear them off of the men who still worked on her to fix them on the harried Twit, who was valiantly trying to act dignified despite mascara smudges under her eyes that made her look like a racoon. Fortunately, Jennie was nothing if not stubborn when it came to speaking her mind, and she was well and truly annoyed. She forced herself to speak clearly but soothingly to the woman. "They work here today. That is really all that is important. In case you hadn't noticed, the Salon has also sprouted far more rooms, back rooms, chairs and supplies than it normally would have..." "Wel..." the Twit attempted to cut in, but Jennie raised her voice and overrode the feeble attempt at speech by simply using the authoritative tone that few people ever argued with. "You are in a War zone, and the Salon has expanded in order to accomodate the War. Thinking too much about this really isn't in your best interests. I'd recommend you avoid taking any inventory until next week sometime. Don't look too closely at the Laws of Physics, either. It's really not as horrible as it probably seems right now. I'm betting that when you do take inventory next week, you'll find that financially, you've come out considerably ahead after this visit, so do stop that whining." The receptionist had actually stopped whining already; indeed, she was not making much sound at all. Her mouth worked, but nothing came out other than a few quiet syllables which made no sense whatsoever. Figuring it was best to press her advantage now that she had it, Jennie gently freed one hand from Greg's ministrations, then gingerly used it to pull a few bills out of the purse that just happened to be right at her elbow, with bills sticking out so they could be reached conveniently. She handed the paper to the flustered receptionist. "If, after next week's inventory, you find you've been shorted at all, despite the fact that we have already *paid* for most of these services up front, this should certainly cover it. Now, doesn't that set your mind at ease?" Jennie grinned. Without waiting for any answer, Jennie gave her hand back to Greg and closed her eyes again. The receptionist burst into a fresh round of tears, but took the money and backed away; obviously there was no further ground to be gained here. She took a closer look at the bills; something seemed to be scribbled on one of them. A phone number and a couple of words. A club name, it seemed. "Hmm...The Raven," she mused, not seeming to notice she'd started talking to herself between sobs, "I think I've heard about that place; something about the clients having really unusual tastes. That certainly would explain a lot about these people..." She made her way back to the front and slumped dejectedly into her seat. Back in the chair, it was Jennie's turn to mumble nonsense syllables as the interruption retreated. ****** Some time later, Jennie made her way slowly and dazedly to the front of the store, supported by one man on each side of her. "She tripped, said she couldn't walk," Lee told the friends waiting up there, a concerned look on his ruggedly handsome face. "Can some of you...um...support..." he took a closer look at the dazed faces that awaited them in the lobby "...are you all right?" he finished, looking a bit alarmed. "Uh, sure! Right as rain," someone said in a rather dreamy, foggy tone that did little to reassure the two men of anything. "Well," Greg said to Jennie, "do you think you can make it if we leave you in-" "But we didn't do the lightsaber thingy!!!!!!" Jennie yelled suddenly, dropping to the floor faster than either man could catch her, and wrapping one arm about each man's ankle. "Qui, Obi, I can't go!" she sobbed. "It's all right," Lee began soothingly, "We'll just wait here for a bit with you, and then you can show us the lightsaber thingy next time, when you bring your stuff." Jennie immediately beamed at the two men and hugged their ankles, somehow managing to bounce happily from her position on the floor. "Fmurphle glog crashumpet," she cooed happily. "FMIAJ!" she added emphatically. * The two men shrugged and leaned against the wall to await the appearance of the rest of the 'Pack. --------------- * - Kids, do not try to pronounce this at home. Only a fully trained Natpacker can face a sound like this and survive. -- Take care, Jennie finabair@ais.net *** http://www.cl.ais.net/finabair/ * TBAAngel listowner * Natpacker * Cheesehead * Jedi Jen * * J/AiA * TISE * MiG * SunS * BBPGrrl - DBW * *** My reality check bounced. What do you expect, I'm a Natpacker! *** From - Sat Aug 28 13:56:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KmgJ-0002ZI-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 13:54:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4217; Sat, 28 Aug 99 13:52:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2957; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 13:52:04 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 13:52:21 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: alternate universes X-To: FK To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1ae77cb7cf28f4d9bbbb63a09b414d40 Given the objection of the War 8 WM, then, the War 8 link reference. have to be deleted from the solution in the matter of character use for this war. However, since alternate universes are a long-established device in fantasy and science fiction and fantasy, the solution can simply use a character pulled in from an alternate universe, Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Sat Aug 28 14:12:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KmwI-0004Rc-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:10:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7551; Sat, 28 Aug 99 13:59:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3394; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 13:59:20 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 10:58:39 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Communication Device To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 938c86614ebef50f4185464438b62377 Knighties: Communication Device by Chris Rosmini Wednesday August 23: sundown, just before UF/Knighties: A Chat Between Old... Friends The Loft, the Hive, and in between Nick and Eowyn used with permission "Are you sure about this Nick?" Roz asked over her shoulder as she backed the Bentley slowly out of the crowded garage at 101 Gateway. Nobody was parking anything where anyone else could get at it these days, and that made maneuvering pretty dicey in a car whose mirrors were located more for appearance than usefulness. Eowyn, riding shotgun in the seat to her left was sounding depths and cringing occasionally, but took time to glance back at their passenger. "Yeah, Nick. I know you need to know how everybody else is going to react to all this, but couldn't you just _phone_ him? Or use E-mail?" She breathed a small sigh of relief as they emerged into the evening light and pushed the button to bring the big garage doors rumbling down. "Couldn't you meet him at the Mall? Somewhere in public? Does it have to be at the Nest?" "The Hive." Nick said from the seclusion of the back seat. "And yes. He's not what you would call a ... public person; none of us are." He opened the little burled wood table idly and snapped it shut again. "The Hive is at least neutral territory, and the UF are ... well disposed ... to both of us in their way." Roz felt a hard knot forming in her chest at his describing the vampire community as "us"; two days ago it had been "them" and it nearly broke her heart to hear him make that tacit admission of his fate. She drove on in silence as the city grew dark around them and the street lights flicked on, returning the landscape to the world of darkness Nick had known most of his 800 years. "I guess War does make for strange bedf..." Eowyn's voice faded out as she realized the potential implications of that particular cliche in things involving the UF. "Strange alliances, for all of us." she finished desperately, avoiding the driver's glare. Nick smiled in the darkness, temporarily distracted from his thoughts about the coming meeting by his followers' tender concern for his sensibilities. *Strange indeed* he thought; this unique meeting with a mortal LaCroix, probably the only time in their existences they would meet without the vampire connection, the factor of Master and ... whatever ... in the equation. *I should take advantage of it while I can.* he thought, as the big car rolled through a wrought iron gate and down a cobbled drive. He composed himself, as for a performance, or a battle, while they swept past the shadowy patterns of formal gardens and came to a stately stop at the foot of a set of wide stone stairs. Roz was considering the unprecedented nature of this visit too, while Nick escorted them up the steps to the great double doors. They had played bodyguard before, knowing the joke. They were middle aged women guarding an ancient vampire, mortals "protecting" an immortal monster who could have destroyed them in the blink of an eye. It had always been Nick protecting them in these ... contacts with Warring factions. Not that there was anything to fear, exactly, from the UF. She straightened the folds of her long black dress while they waited, thinking *This time the advantage is a lot more evenly distributed, among vampires and mortals alike.* She was surprised to feel a little thrill of exhilaration at that idea as the doors swung open and they followed Nick into the brilliantly lit room. **************************************************** From - Sat Aug 28 14:12:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KmwZ-00039K-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:11:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4297; Sat, 28 Aug 99 14:01:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3746; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:01:58 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:02:17 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: Ok, that does it X-To: FK X-cc: Don Fasig , fkwarlock@hotmail.com To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 56f7dba27d181a38c53ab9d530cb49e4 There will not be another FK war while I am listowner. I've had it clear up over my head. I'm sick and tired of a handful of supposed adults behaving like a bunch of nursery school children. Wars are supposed to be fun and lighthearted. Apparently this no longer possible. That's that. Whether I'm going to remain as listowner is something I'll decide later. But there isn't going to be another war and that is that. To those of you who have been playing nicely and going by tradition as explained, I'm sorry. McLisa From - Sat Aug 28 15:32:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KoB4-0006wE-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:30:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7893; Sat, 28 Aug 99 15:27:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8074; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:27:42 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:29:33 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Where No Tour Guide Has Gone Before (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1ef14c3fa168858598abf38bcc498156 Title: Where No Guide Has Gone Before (1/3) Date: Saturday August 28, 1999 Time: Morning around 10 am Place: The Monastery By Annette Williams with permission from all used Arletta was deep in thought. Trying desperately to figure out what to do about a tour guide. They needed to find one quickly as the Light Cousins would be leaving Toronto very soon. She decided a nice cup of tea might help soothe her nerves and help her to think clearly. Passing the foyer on her way towards the kitchen, Arletta observed a group of about 10 people milling about. They all turned towards her expectantly. "Can I help you?" asked Arletta hesitantly. "Yes," answered a slightly irritated woman, "You can start the tour." "Oh!" answered Arletta, "You're waiting for a tour. Just a moment let me see who the tour guide is today." After checking her pocket schedule, 'Annette', "Excuse me just one moment while I track her down. It won't be but a moment I assure you." "I hope so!" said the woman. "We've already been waiting 15 minutes," explained another of the guests. -------------- "Brandi where's Annette?" Arletta asked as she walked into the office. "She's in the other office watching tv." Brandi replied "TV! What is she thinking?" "I think she said there's a Star Trek marathon going on today," explained Brandi "There's a tour group out in the foyer and it's her turn!" yelled a frustrated Arletta. "Oops," said Brandi quietly, "I forgot to remind her." "Aaaaarrrggggg!" Arletta stormed out and headed towards the back office. "If we don't get a tour guide soon...." Opening the door to the back office, Arletta almost lost control again at the sight of Annette sitting with feet propped up on the desk, hands behind her head, smiling and staring intently at the tv screen. "Annette," Arletta said quietly. "oh, hi Arletta," Annette mumbled "There's a tour group waiting not so patiently for you in the foyer," "Ok, have then wait I'll be right there. A commercial is coming..." "NOW!" yelled Arletta, "Oh all right!" said a surprised Annette almost falling out of her chair. Passing Arletta in the doorway, Annette heard her mumble something unintelligible but she dared not ask her to repeat it. From - Sat Aug 28 15:57:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KoXX-0006SP-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:53:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7971; Sat, 28 Aug 99 15:51:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9074; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:51:18 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:51:16 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War: Knighties: A Knight For Shopping (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e5c3bfa8da0fa42d67a152607fd8a027 War: Knighties: A Knight For Shopping (1/3) By: Knightie Katrinka Nick and the Knighties used with Permission Time: One PM, Aug 22, 1999 "Katrinka you got a fax from the School board!" Eowyn called across the loft. Katrinka's mind raced. The school board has faxed her? Why? For what reason? //Oh my gosh! I wonder if they found out about my arrest?/ She thought as s he went to the fax machine. Katrinka read the fax. Her principal had forwarded her allocation to her! This would be good news, except for one thing. The one fact that turned the good news into bad. "What is it?" Eowyn asked. "Are you in trouble?" "No, I just got my allocation. "A thousand American dollars to buy things for my room." "That's wonderful!" Eowyn gushed. "It's terrible." Katrinka dejectedly sat down the couch. "Horribly, rotten terrible news!" "How can you say that? This is great news!" "It's awful! Why did I have to get money *now*?" Katrinka kicked the end table/ Eowyn wisely decided to leave Katrinka alone. The rest of the Knighties also avoided the glaring cook. Zoe took courage into her own hands. "Kat, why the dark mood?" "This!" The angsting one handed Zoe the paper. As her fellow criminal read it, her face fell. "Oh this is terrible news!" "Your telling me." Katrinka could see Zoe talking to Nick, then the former vampire walked over to her. "Can I sit down?" "It's your house." Katrinka shrugged. "Zoe told me that you got a special fax today." "Yeah, I did." she handed it to Nick. "Allocations. What does this mean?" "The Superintendent of Schools decided that instead of a raise in money, we would get 'teacher's money'. This money can only be spent in things towards my room." Katrinka explained. "This is good news!" Nick smiled. "Why are you so angry?" Katrinka couldn't look at Nick. "You wouldn't understand." Nick touched her chin and turned it towards him. "What is it?" Those blue eyes always melted the cook's heart. She found herself saying. "I am under house arrest. I can't go spend it!" Katrinka couldn't help it, she burst into tears. Nick handed her a handkerchief. Then he got up, and talked to Eowyn and Roz. A few moments later, he walked up to her. "We've made a compromise. I have decided that you can go to the teacher's store to use your allocation, if you take Eowyn and I with you." "What would Nick do in a teacher's store?" Gemsong gasped. "*Your* going to a teacher's store?" Zoe gasped. "Yes, and you are too!" Nick smiled. "Eowyn has a rental car, so we can ride in that." "Thanks, Nick." Katrinka told him. "Oh, but I drive!" The former vampire smiled. From - Sat Aug 28 15:57:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KoYl-0006US-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:54:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7974; Sat, 28 Aug 99 15:52:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9130; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:52:32 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:52:31 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War: Knighties: A Knight For Shopping (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 671fd3dd1f1971e0201c34fe7b0aeff1 Zoe thought that perhaps a teacher's store would be full of teacher's for sale. Instead, Ford's, which proudly clamed to be the largest teacher store in all of Toronto. Just had junk. There where several sections, one labeled math, one reading, another science. Nick went towards the section labeled 'dramatic play'. "Nick!" Eowyn tried to protest. "When I was a professor, they didn't have this kind of store! I've gotta explore!" He looked like a kid in a candy store. "But what about Katrinka and Zoe! They might get away." "Nah, they won't leave without us. I have the car keys!" Feeling empowered because of Nick's trust. Katrinka grabbed a basket and went to the isle labeled. "Clearance." Zoe followed her. She found the Knightie scrutinizing the sale items. "Kat, you have a thousand American dollars! Why are you shopping the sale?" Katrinka handed Zoe a overhead set. "See this?" She pointed at the usual price. "It is usually sold at 40 American dollars. Now it's only 18 Canadian!" "But it's missing an overhead spinner." "So? I have one of those!" ******************** On the other side of the store, Eowyn was buying things for her class. Nick came around the corner, wearing a firefighter's helmet. The teacher looked at Nick and rolled her eyes. "That's for children!" "But it fits!" Nick objected. "You look silly!" She picked up a container of bear counters, and put them in her basket. "But I never played dress up before." Eowyn put her hands on her hips. "What about when you where a kid?" "That was a *very* long time ago." "Well, did you?" "No, clothes where rare back then." "Put the hat back!" The teacher put her best teacher's voice on. Without arguing Nick turned and left. *********** Katrinka's eyes lit on a set of animal. She picked them up, and looked at them. Only a dollar, since they where missing some. The sign said. "A thousand counters instead of two thousand." Sensing a huge bargain. Katrinka grabbed every package. She tossed them into the basket. Then she saw the money sets. Some only had bills and no change. Some had change but no money. //Jeremy would adore these!// Katrinka thought as she put them in the basket. "What are you going to do with Canadian money?" "Teach my kids about Canada!" Katrinka went and got another basket. Zoe leaned against a shelf looking bored. Here she was, in the largest mall she had ever been in. She would love to go get the new Rasputina CD. But nooooooo she was stuck waiting Katrinka fill basket after basket with junk! Then the awful teacher began to fill her basket full of science reading books. Zoe felt she *must* say something. "Kat, you don't teach science. You teach special Ed LAB!" "I know that." Katrinka began to hit the clearance social studies books. "Then why are you buying this junk? You don't teach Social Studies either!" Katrinka spun to face her. "My student's many times miss science and social studies. If they don't, their books are of a higher reading level then they have mastered. They have no idea what is going on!" "That isn't your problem!" "I am responsible for their education! Just because my kids go to lab, doesn't mean they can't learn!" There was fire in the teacher's eyes. "If they will read books about snakes and learn, then it's my duty to supply them!" "Your crazy!" "Thank you!" Katrinka screamed. "I see that as a complement!" Just then, Nick Knight came around the corner. He was wearing a long black cape, a wig and fake fangs. He grabbed Zoe by the shoulders and said in a horrid Romanian accent. "I vant to suck your blood. BLAH, BLAH, BLAH!" "EKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" Zoe yelped. "A horrid blood sucker is sucking me!" "You can be my next life!" "EKKKKKKKKKKKKKK I don't want to be your life!" "After one taste you'll beg to be one of my lives!" Zoe pulled away from Nick and ran across the store, with Nick on her heals. "I'm gonna get you my lovely!" "Help! Help! I'm being oppressed!" Zoe screamed! --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- ATTENTION ONElist MEMBERS: Get your ONElist news! Join our MEMBER NEWSLETTER here: Click Here ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Katrinka@flash.net Always two there are...no more...no less. A master and an apprentice." Visit My Sentai/Anime Trading Page! http://members.tripod.com/~katrinkak/sentai.html my homepage: http://members.tripod.com/~katrinkak/index.html From - Sat Aug 28 16:21:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KosU-0007Al-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:15:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4844; Sat, 28 Aug 99 16:12:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0719; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:12:41 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:13:01 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: Staying as Listowner X-To: FK To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8ba7bdfa651dd4142b0a4c0c689c2391 First, I apologize for the way I expressed myself in my original That Does It post. Being a listowner does not exempt me from the no-flaming rule. I ought to have remembered that. I'm still annoyed and I still at present intend to have no more wars, but must admit that I may change my mind when under less pressure from real life. I can tell everyone this: if there ever is another war, there will first be a set of written general war rules, over and above the premise and any necessary WM rulings. All participants would have to swear a blood-oath in writing that they had read the rules and would abide by them under penalty of nopost. Thank you, everyone, who has written such kind support. I appreciate it all very much. Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Sat Aug 28 16:21:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Koum-0007FB-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:17:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6082; Sat, 28 Aug 99 16:15:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0818; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:15:04 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:16:53 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Where No Tour Guide Has Gone Before (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e4b34658fc59a58888b5933320061b17 Title: Where No Tour Guide Has Gone Before (2/3) Date: Saturday, August 28, 1999 Time: Just After Part I Place: The Monastery by Annette Williams with permission from all used. "Hi, I'm Annette and I'm your tour guide today. Welcome to the Monastery," Annette said cheerfully. "You're late," someone said from the rear "Yes..um..I'm sorry about that," "We shouldn't have to pay full price, the tour should be half over by now," offered a young woman in front. "Don't worry," Annette said, "You'll get the full tour. Let's start now ok.. The Monastery was built in the 19th century and has the first use of this particular architectural style." "What's the style called again?" asked one of the tourists. "It's called...um...sym...sym...symbiont...," stammered a horrified Annette as she realized she forgotten the name AGAIN! "Umm, just a sec, I have it right here..." "Aw good grief, she doesn't even know the tour!" There were hungry wolves in this group, Annette thought anxiously, she needed to regain her composure soon. Reaching into her pocket for her trusty brochure, Annette pulled out a Star Trek episode guide instead. "Oh my, this isn't it. Aw man, I'm missing the episode about the joining." "Excuse me miss, how old was the designer when he created this style?" "Actually, they have to start training very young," Annette mumbled still reading the episode guide. "They who?" asked the guest, "What training? I thought only one person created this style." "The Trill host has to go through years of training before they're ready to join with the Symbiont Dax." explained Annette. "They're only a few Trill even selected to undergo the training, it's so intense." "What is she talking about?" asked the same frustrated young woman. "I told you she didn't know the tour." "She's talking about Star Trek! That's an episode guide, I have one of those myself!" shouted another guest. "Hey, I want my money back!" "Me too!" "Oh, um, wait, it's not the symbiont style, it's...it's symmetry..." Annette stammered again, trying to remember the name. "Forget it, where's the Lady who took our money?" demanded the guests as they all swarmed back toward the door. Arletta recognizing the all too familiar sound of an angry crowd, rushed into the foyer to see what was wrong. "There she is, we want a refund!" yelled the crowd. "What's the problem?" asked Arletta. "She's talking about Star Trek, she doesn't even know the name of the architectural style!" explained the young woman. "If you don't refund our money, we'll tell everyone in Toronto what a rip off this tour really is." "That's not necessary, I'll get your refunds right away." Arletta explained patiently. Just then Shelley walked in the front door with glops of thick white stuff still clinging to her hair from her encounter with 'George'. "What's going on?" she asked, "Do we have any peanut butter?" Arletta with her back to Shelley upon hearing her voice said, "Actually Shelley here is a very knowledgeable tour guide who would be happy..." "NO!" yelled the appalled visitors, "Just give us back our money!" As Arletta closed the door on the last angry guest, she turned to the other three Light Cousins. "In about an hour I'd like us to all meet and discuss our plans for a tour guide. Right now, however, I don't want to see or talk to anyone." Arletta looked over at Annette who very quickly looked down at the floor. She then turned, walked into the office and slammed the door. From - Sat Aug 28 16:21:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KowY-0000YN-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:19:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6090; Sat, 28 Aug 99 16:16:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0926; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:16:34 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:18:11 -0400 Reply-To: Shelley Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shelley Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Donation (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 356a19e68f7b58f2b2030717027ef7d1 Title: Donation (1/1) Author: Shelley , with permission of all used Date: Saturday, August 28th Time: Afternoon, around 3pm Place: The Monastery "And I thought MY headaches were bad!" Shelley commented to the others. "Really" Brandi said sighing. "I feel sorry for them," Annette added. "I just wish we could *do* something for them" Arletta threw in. The four of them sat dejectedly in the study of the monastery trying to think. "Wait! I know! Oh hang on...no, that won't work..." "Let's....no, forget it..." Their faces grew longer and a mild depression was starting to set in. "I mean, here we are, we FINALLY found a tour guide...." = Arletta began. "Our biggest headache is over" Annette finished. "So, what should we do?" Brandi asked. "What CAN we do?" Shelley asked. Arletta snapped her fingers. "I have an idea! Annette, did you ever use up your PTD coupon?" "No..." "Great!" Arletta walked over to the desk and opened the top drawer. Reaching inside, she pulled out an industrial sized bottle of aspirin, with one layer left at the bottom of the jar. "How many do you suppose we have left after our tour problems?" she asked the others. "Not many" Shelley replied, "about 200?" "Yeah, that's about right" Annette agreed. It had been a bottle of 5,000 originally. "That should cure their headaches!" Brandi smiled, catching on to the plan. = Annette carefully reached in a pocket and pulled out her = PTD coupon. Smiling, she said, "what would make me, make us ALL, really tranquil, would be to donate this partial, industrial sized, bottle of aspirin to the FKWarlocks and listowners (especially McLisa) of War 10". From - Sat Aug 28 16:30:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kp4g-0007Za-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:27:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6119; Sat, 28 Aug 99 16:25:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1243; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:25:27 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:27:06 EDT Reply-To: Knightwave@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: + All Subject: WAR: UF: Doing swimmingly To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e42491d4397d6b8b1bd9e76ecfd0b1c9 WAR: UF: Doing swimmingly! By: April Hackett & Susan Ellen Field Setting: Blackwood Arms Hotel Time: Afternoon Everyone used with permission April stepped out of the pool drying off with a large towel. "That was great!!" she sighed happily, laying down on one of the lounge chairs. Becky was still in the pool, trying to teach Susan how to swim. "That's it! Kick your legs! Kick faster!" Susan followed her instructions. She wasn't swimming though. She hadn't been able to get any further than being knee deep in the pool. Becky realized with a sigh that teaching Susan to swim was going to take a lot of work. "Hey!! I'm swimming!" Susan shouted over to April. April looked over the top of her sunglasses at her friend and laughed. "That's great, Susan." Watching the small woman thrash around without getting her body wet was amazing. "Now just imagine how much fun it will be when you get your entire body into the pool. Once we get you to the point that you can move yourself from one end of the pool to the other without touching the bottom, you'll be set." She laughed, then teased, "You might even have a chance at the slot on the Olympic swimming team." Susan contemplated the idea of hanging a gold medal around her neck, wondering if she could manage hanging it with all the life-preservers already there. Presence and Cleo were walking around taking pictures of everything. The bulletin board in the Hive was already loaded with pictures from all the other parties the UFfers had (sort of) attended!!!. With a last glance toward the pool, April rose from her chair and walked over to the buffet, wanting to try some of the heavenly smelling barbecue. As she walked back to her seat with a tasty plateful of ribs, Susan suddenly decided the time was right to go all the way into the pool. The splash was huge! Water went everywhere. All over Cleo and Presence as they stood snapping pictures, all over Becky, nearly drowning her, and all over April. "I did it! I did it!!" Susan shouted, as her head bobbed up out of the water. Unfortunately, the first thing she saw was April sitting by the side of the pool, coated with barbecue sauce. She watched her best friend pick up a soggy piece of meat and looked from it to her. No emotion showed on April's face at all. April slowly stood up and watched the barbecue sauce drip and run down her body until her feet were completely red with it. She had complete control over her temper. She was *not* going to do anything rash! //I wonder if Susan can eat those life preservers?// "Er, gee! Will you look at the time!" Susan gulped, looking at the bare spot on her wrist, wishing said watch was really there. "I better hurry and get dressed! I have to take Cujo to a pet party in a few hours!" Susan ran away from the pool area as fast as she could, narrowly escaping the flying plate of wet ribs that was heaved her way. The End From - Sat Aug 28 18:30:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KpFL-00007f-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:38:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4912; Sat, 28 Aug 99 16:36:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1706; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:36:28 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 13:39:01 -0700 Reply-To: "Nancy A. Taylor" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: REPOST: Knightie Reflections To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b5efdbb32396e52422e7fd06e2a70834 Reposted with McLisa's kind permission. War: Knighties: Knightie Reflections Date: August 20 Time: After Knickknacks, And Mr. Black, We're Taking The Caddy Back Author: Knightie Gemsong Nick used with permission. Gemsong sat on the floor of the loft amid the gifts and wrappings that remained from her 30th birthday party. She could not believe the generosity of her fellow Knighties. To throw a surprise party for her, and have cake and presents, it was all so overwhelming. But Nick, he was the coup de grace. Two kisses in one night, and such lavish gifts. Gem really was a lucky Knightie. She sat, fingering the pendant around her neck and wondered at its origin. Nick did not tell her its history, so she made a mental note to ask him about it later, when things had settled down a bit. This war had been different from the last one, to be sure, but she had made new friends and reconnected with some old ones and decided to count herself lucky to be with the Knighties, now and forever. As she rose from her spot on the floor she decided that no matter how things ended this time around, she had a birthday that would never be forgotten, thanks to her friends. New and old alike. (I want to say special thanks to Eowyn and Katrinka for writing the post, and to all the Knighties for helping me ring in my new decade! I love you guys!) Knightie Gemsong From - Sat Aug 28 18:30:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KpGd-0000AZ-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:40:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6155; Sat, 28 Aug 99 16:37:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1751; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:37:52 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:39:39 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Where No Tour Guide Has Gone Before (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2af319734a33eb7a25bd1ab330953fe4 Title: Where No Tour Guide Has Gone Before (3/3) Date: Saturday, August 28, 1999 Time: Afternoon, following Part 2 Place: The Monastery by Annette Williams with permission from all used. "Ok ladies, we need to make a decision," Arletta said somberly. "We're running out of time and interviewees. I've looked over the files of our applicants and I think we'll have to choose one of them." "You can't be serious," said Shelley as she separated and tried to apply peanut butter to every strand of her hair, "you're not thinking of hiring someone we already interviewed!" "Our choices are limited Shelley," Arletta explained, "Either we hire someone or we close the monastery up for the year. We're leaving soon and none of us can legitimately stay behind to take care of things." "But we really didn't have any good candidates," Shelley replied. "As I was saying, I looked over the applicants again and I've narrowed it down to 3 possibles," "WHO!" asked Brandi, Shelley and Annette "Well," Arletta ventured, "I was thinking that we really don't have any breakables around." "Not Autumn!" exclaimed Annette. "She has potential.." Arletta offered "As a bulldozer maybe..." said Brandi "Who else were you thinking of?" "Well, I was thinking Mrs. Smith..." "She'll talk all the guests to death," said Brandi "Is that such a bad thing?" asked Arletta, "If we could just get her to memorize the brochure..." "And our final choice?" asked Shelley "Well there's always Gertrude..." "Call me Gertie! No way Arletta," said Shelley, "We'll never get through to her!" "Well we can't afford Miss Johnson and none of you are offering any suggestions!" said a frustrated Arletta. Just then someone knocked on the front door. "There aren't any tours scheduled, I wonder who that could be." said Arletta. Opening the door she found a very familiar looking woman. "May I help you?" asked Arletta "Hi, I'm Madge from the Historical Society." "Oh yes, you were watching the place when we arrived. Ladies, it's Madge the previous tour guide. Come on in." said Arletta. "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I drop by and see how things were going." "Oh it's just miserable. We can't seem to find a replacement for you. Do you know anyone you can recommend who'll take this job for low wages?" "Wages?" said Madge, "Excuse me, is that peanut butter you're putting in your hair?" "You don't want to know, believe me." replied Shelley, "We have had the worst bunch of interviews. We had a guy who thought he was on Gilligan's Island and a woman who was a human demolition derby." "Then we had someone who only spoke Swedish," offered Brandi. "And to top it off, we had a lady looking for 50K salary and tons of benefits!" said Annette "Can you imagine?" asked Arletta, "We can barely afford minimum wage." "You're willing to pay someone?" asked Madge "Well..., do you know someone who'll do this for free?" asked Annette "I worked for free, remember I was the unpaid volunteer?" said Madge. "I would certainly be willing to continue on for actual wages. I'm insulted you didn't even offer." "Oh my, it never even occurred to us... please forgive us!" pleaded Brandi. "Please take the job!" said Arletta "Well..." said Madge "You can set your own schedule and take all holidays off." "You can also have your own room," offered Annette "Name your terms!" "PLEASE?" asked all 4 women simultaneously. "Ok," said Madge "I really did miss the place." "Woohoo!!!" yelled the Light Cousins. As Arletta slid into the closest chair breathing a deep sigh of relief, Shelley went in search of more Peanut butter while Madge looked on shaking her head and smiling. Annette and Brandi did the happy dance all the around the room. The Light Cousins had finally found a tour guide! From - Sat Aug 28 18:30:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KpI0-00017u-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:41:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4922; Sat, 28 Aug 99 16:39:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1814; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:39:14 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:40:37 EDT Reply-To: Knightwave@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: + All Subject: WAR: UF: One Pooped Pup! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e5882094d710c110bcfbb13207f444d8 WAR: UF: One Pooped Pup! By: April Hackett & Susan Ellen Field Setting: The Hive Time: After the FoD's Pet Party Susan was exhausted! Two parties in one day! Or had it been more? There had been so many since she the beginning of this war, she was losing track. Susan walked over to the couch and carefully laid Cujo, who was fast asleep in her arms, on the couch. She had just covered him with a crocheted throw when Jules walked into the room. "Looks like you two had fun!" she whispered. "Yeah, Cujo was a real party animal! He was going after all the female dogs there! I finally had to drag him out of there under protest. "Protest?" Jules laughed. Susan turned sideways, displaying a large wet spot covering the outside of her right leg, from calf to ankle. "That's what he did when I said we were leaving!" Jules looked over and noticed a piece of paper clenched in Cujo's teeth. "What's that?" she asked. Susan rolled her eyes. "Someone at the party wanted to know if Cujo was available for stud purposes. I told them I couldn't discuss it, as this was a PG-13 war, so the person scribbled down their phone number. Cujo grabbed it right out of my hand!" "You're kidding!" "Nope, see for yourself!! I took tons of pictures at the party to add to our collection. I had just asked Shan to take a picture of him and me when that person walked up." Susan laughed, then continued. "I guess she realized Cujo was up to something, cause she was there to get the shot of him arranging his lovelife." They both giggled at that thought then began to look through all the pictures. Jules looked up when she heard April enter the room. "So there you are!!'" the tall blond growled, thunderclouds still swirling around her after the incident at the pool party. "Well, guess I best get to bed!!" Susan quickly stated, lifting Cujo off the couch. Jules was wondering why Susan was suddenly in a rush to leave. She was about to ask when her attention was drawn to April's bare feet. "April, what shade of nail polish is that?" They both heard laughter bordering on hysterics as the petite Uffer hurried up the stairs. Jules looked from the stairs to April's face, which was beginning to display a full thunderstorm of activity, to her feet, then back to her face again, her confusion obvious. The color *did* look slightly unusual... It was almost the color of a ripe tomato... and was that barbecue sauce that she smelled? Leaning closer to her friend, Jules suddenly straightened up in suprise, a teasing smile growing on her face. It *was* barbecue sauce she smelled. Looking down again, she opened her mouth to ask her friend why she was wearing barbecue sauce on her toes, when April growled, "Not one word, Jules! You *really* don't want to know!" "Well, I guess you could smell of *worse* things." Stifled laughter from Jules merged with April's snarl of annoyance as the tall blond hurried up the stairs. "Susan, I'd like a word with you." The End From - Sat Aug 28 18:30:12 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KpxS-0002Ir-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 17:24:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5105; Sat, 28 Aug 99 17:22:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4402; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 17:22:02 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:23:28 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF/Knighties: A Chat Between Old... Friends To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5db36cd6ff5621f85deb8a1f1aa0abcb WAR: UF/Knighties: A Chat Between Old... Friends By: Les GS and Chris Rosmini with thanks to Julia Kocich Setting: The Hive, UF HQ Time: Wednesday, August 25th, evening After: "Knighties: Communication Device" Nick and Lacroix used with permission. Nick stepped into the parlor, cursorily noting the comfortable appointments. His attention went to Lacroix, settled in one of the big armchairs, a large hand curled around the small glass propped on its arm. Lacroix's pale eyes met his gaze and they considered one another for a moment. Nick felt a surge of anticipatory tension... but that was all. None of the internal sense of Lacroix's presence that had been a part of him for almost 800 years. After a moment, Lacroix said lightly, "I gather you have learned that this transformation is, perforce, a fleeting one?" Nick studied Lacroix's face. Except for a bit more color, it was the same face, with the same arrogant lift to the brows, the same sardonic half smile. He was tempted to walk over and touch him, to see if he was warm. Or slug him, to see if he bled. He suddenly realized he could do just that, now that the advantage of vampiric age had been erased. He wouldn't escape unscathed. Lacroix had been brought across hardened from a legionary campaign and had the reach on him. But he himself had been bred and trained for fighting. Yet, upon reflection, he discovered within himself none of the fury that had impelled him to violence against Lacroix in the past. He walked to the side of the room where a low table held two decanters. He had a choice between red wine and something amber. He poured a small tumbler of the amber. "I've found it to be many things, and not all of them are fleeting." Glass in hand, he returned to sit in the armchair next to Lacroix. He took a drink from his tumbler and his mouth and nose were on fire. "What is this?" Nick gasped, blinking suddenly watering eyes. "Whisky, I think. It smells like it, at any rate." Lacroix took a small sip from his own drink and shivered slightly. "It grows on you." Nick tried another, more cautious sip. "It's not... bad," he decided. He let the warmth fade from his tongue, slowly swirling the liquid in its tumbler before he went on. Then he asked, "Has being human given you any new perspectives on... things?" Amusement leached from Lacroix's face. "I may be mortal, Nicholas. But I ... am not human." "Is that a threat?" Nick lifted his head to look squarely at the other man. Lacroix shrugged slightly. "An observation." "You haven't changed a bit." "Why would I, Nicholas?" Lacroix replied with exaggerated patience, fixing him with a look as direct and icy as any he'd given him while they were vampires. Nick took in a long, slow breath. The effect of such a simple act still enraptured him. He'd forgotten how calming, focusing, one breath could be. He said quietly, "I would have thought that living as a mortal, even for this brief a period, sharing their pains and pleasures, would have made you more compassionate." "How very optimistic of you, Nicholas." "I can't believe you haven't been changed by this, even a little." The other man snorted in scorn. "If nothing else, the experience has confirmed the wisdom of the path I chose almost 2000 years ago." "But think, Lacroix. To live! To create instead of destroy. To walk in the sun..." "To die? Thank you, no, Nicholas." "Is it frightening, Lacroix?" Nick watched him curiously. "Mortality is so full of things that are out of your control." Lacroix smiled coldly. "No. Not frightening. Simply... unacceptable." Nick lowered his eyes to his glass, not surprised by Lacroix's words, but disappointed nonetheless. Then he lifted his gaze to meet the man's stony expression. "Why should I commit the act that would return you and the others to vampirism?" Lacroix raised his tumbler again, studying Nick over its rim before lowering it to reply. "Perhaps, because, unlike you, none of us had a choice in this transformation. It was forced upon us against our will." Lacroix's brows rose. "*All* of your transformations have been of your own choosing." Nick let that go for the moment. "I remove murderers from the streets of Toronto on a regular basis, against their will. Tell me how this was any different." He watched, fascinated, as Lacroix flushed, blood rising up to darken his cheeks and forehead. The man looked away from him, fingers tightening on his drink, visibly working to restrain his temper. Then he turned back to Nick, taking a calming breath of his own. "We've had this conversation before. I think it safe to say neither of us has altered his opinion on the subject." "If anything, this experience has only strengthened my beliefs, Lacroix." Finishing his drink, Nick rose from his chair, crossing to the decanters for a refill. He raised the bottle to Lacroix, silently asking if he'd like another. Lacroix rose as well, coming to Nick and holding out his glass. Nick silently poured. They both sipped. "Perhaps you can tell *me* something, Nicholas. How long do you think it would be before our little local difficulty becomes known to the Enforcers?" Nick lifted his glass to his lips, taking a healthy swallow. The burn on his tongue and down his throat was oddly comforting. Quietly, he said, "No doubt they're already aware of the situation." "No doubt. And how long do you think they will allow the 'situation' to continue?" "Why shouldn't they?" A silence followed. "You think me naive." Nick smiled. "As ever." Lacroix did not comment, saying instead, "Nicholas, to them this must be an aberration. And the simplest way to correct this aberration is to... murder, if you will, all those mortals, once vampire, who know our secrets, our customs and gathering places." "Which of us would tell?" Nick protested. "And who would believe them anyway?" Lacroix raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps a man like the hunter, Liam O'Neal, would. They will not risk the slightest chance of exposure. They will ensure continued secrecy in the simplest, tidiest manner possible. And that would be death. For Janette, Vachon, Urs, even the carouche, Screed. All those who now, as mortals, know too much." "You failed to mention yourself." Lacroix smiled. "I'm attempting to persuade you this would not be a good thing." Nick was silent a long moment. Then he said, "I don't want you dead, Lacroix." Lacroix silently raised his glass in a wry salute. Nick set his empty tumbler on the tray the decanters rested on, glass tapping on metal. He turned and walked toward the door. "I know what you want. But I need to know what each of the others wants." "Others..?" Nick stopped, pivoting to look back at Lacroix. "The others. Janette, Vachon, Urs, Screed. The others you show so much concern for. I need to know if this is what they want too." Lacroix's voice rose. "Do you propose to put this to a *vote*?" "You mentioned it yourself, before. I wouldn't want to deny them their own choices, Lacroix, now would I?" Lacroix growled, glaring. Nick couldn't help grinning at his outrage at having his own words used against him. "I'll... make inquiries," Lacroix replied stiffly. Nick nodded and moved to leave. "Nicholas..." "Yes?" Nick kept his gaze fixed on the door. "I believe I ... should be there. When... if you use the icon again." "No," Nick said flatly. "You can... celebrate your victory without me." "Nicholas, this will be no 'victory' of mine. I take no pleasure in any of this." Nick turned to look at him finally. "Why then?" "The last time I saw a transformed vampire restored, he lunged, raving and out of control, at the woman he loved." "But that time the icon and staff were *not* used together." "And we have no idea what will occur when they *are* used together." Lacroix fought to bring his voice and rising concern under control, before continuing. His lips bent in what might have been a smile. "All this... madness has the look of some perverse practical joke-" "A joke!" Nick bit out, aghast. "What else would be the point, Nicholas? *Someone* must find it amusing to dangle your dream in front of you, only to snatch it away. To subject every vampire in Toronto to the inconvenience, the... humiliation of becoming mortal. Against their wills." "A joke..?" Nick repeated, trying to wrap his brain around the notion. Then he looked up sharply at Lacroix. "Played by whom? Not you..." Lacroix's face emptied of expression. Then he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Surprise froze Nick long enough to allow the other man to grasp one of his wrists, lifting it to set Nick's palm against the center of his shirt. Lacroix stared into his eyes, utter loathing for his own current condition reflected in his pale gaze, as his heart slammed at a feverish pace against his ribs. "Not me," Lacroix declared, voice tight. Nick's shock lasted a moment longer, then he pushed Lacroix away. "No. Not you. Now... perhaps *you* understand." Releasing Nick's wrist, Lacroix stepped back. "My point, Nicholas, is that we have no idea what will happen when you combine the staff and the icon. We don't *know*. All the information we have is hearsay. Arcane rumors and legends." Lacroix took a deep breath through his nose, jaw muscles bunching. "What I *do* know, what I *saw*, was a deranged vampire pinned to the floor by a dozen crossbow bolts, like a rabid dog. How would your followers protect themselves? Or protect mortal Toronto?" Nausea washed over Nick at the thought of his own people having to protect themselves against him, and almost certainly failing. "Why would you give a damn if any of them were hurt?" "I wouldn't." Nick stepped toward Lacroix with a sharp intake of breath, fists clenching. Lacroix folded his hands before him, head tilting slightly to one side as he gazed placidly at the angry man. "So why do you want to be there?" Nick asked through set teeth. "If you do lose control, Nicholas, with no one about you, or only fragile mortals, not only could you do something *you* might regret, but you would draw unwanted attention to yourself. To... the Community." Lacroix spread his hands. "If you do lose control, is there anyone else who might be prepared to do .... whatever may be necessary?" Lacroix looked at Nick with utter seriousness. Nick shut his eyes, trying to think of a way out of this, to assure his friends' safety without Lacroix being there. Watching. "Nicholas." Nick opened his eyes again, pain darkening them to near black. Lacroix met his gaze, features set in that cool, contemplative regard that seemed to be as close as he ever came to sympathy. Softly he said, "Whatever else I may be to you, Nicholas, I am also your friend." Nick stared at him flatly for a moment, then murmured through lips strangely stiff, remembering the circumstances, "I said that, once." "You did," Lacroix agreed, voice still low. Nick silently turned and walked from him, going to the door. He paused and looked around the comfortable room, studied the ... man before him. With his hand on the knob, he continued, "I'll let you know my decision. Until then-" He broke off, grip tightening on the knob, turning his knuckles white. "It seems either way I have some good-byes to make." "Until then, Nicholas. Good night." From - Sat Aug 28 18:30:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KqRX-00022X-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 17:55:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5184; Sat, 28 Aug 99 17:52:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6014; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 17:52:43 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:55:14 -0700 Reply-To: "Nancy A. Taylor" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knighties: Knightie Intervention To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: deec82d88a9ed91da23e90211a83999c Knighties: "Knightie Intervention" by Nancy Taylor and her fellow Knighties Time: Tuesday, Aug. 24 Immediately after "Time to Move On" Place: the Loft Knighties and Nick used with permission Nancy stood in shocked silence at the top of the stairs, her sharp hearing picking up the mutterings of the mortal Nick as he stood at his bedroom window watching the sunrise. "Uh oh," the Knightie Co-Leader thought. "Time for a little intervention...." She turned on her heel and ran smack into Eowyn who had followed her up the stairs. "What's going on?" Eowyn asked, seeing the shocked look on the Knightie Leader's face. "Shhhh." Nancy steered her friend and former leader of the Knighties back down the stairs. Once they were in the kitchen, she whispered, "Nick's thinking about dying...about killing himself to avoid having either of the Galen's Cube scenarios play out." "What???" Eowyn shook her head in amazement. "Whatever gave him a crazy idea like that?" "He sees only two other solutions--loosing a pack of vampires back into Toronto, or turning into a berserker himself." "There are no other alternatives?" "None, except this hair-brained scheme of his!" Nancy sputtered in frustration. "Then we'll just have to convince him to choose reassembling the staff. That's the only viable solution." "We need to talk him out of suicide and into choosing between the other two alternatives, at least. Nick's a stubborn one. I think we need some serious Knightie Intervention here!" She turned to look around the loft, spying those she thought might best be able to talk Nick out of his decision. Besides herself and Eowyn, she spotted Katrinka, Sandra and Chris. Trying to look casual, she walked across the large room, tapping the women on their shoulders and whispering to them. Soon, all were assembled in a small group beneath the stairs. Curious, Mindy, Zoe and Steph wandered over to see what was up with this core of the Knightie faction. "We have to talk him out of it!" Nancy was saying to the group. "Out of what?" Mindy asked. "Yeah, what?" Zoe echoed. Steph just looked puzzled and concerned. "Out of ending it...now." Nancy took a deep breath to steady herself. This wasn't easy. "Nick sees only one way out. His way will harm only one--himself. He wants to kill himself." The three Knightie newbies gasped. "We have to talk him out of it!" Steph exclaimed. "That's exactly what we have to do," Chris agreed. "We could have an 'Intervention'," Katrinka suggested. "Yes, like they do for some substance-abusers who are on a self-destructive course. Great idea!" Sandra agreed. "Well, we'd better do it now, then," Nancy said grimly. "I heard him say something about watching his last sunrise...and he was staring out the window at the time." The group turned on their heels and marched up the stairs, determined to do battle with the stubborn ex-vampire. Even Nick had trouble resisting the united front of his loyal Knighties. Eowyn pushed open the door. Nick turned, startled at the intrusion. He frowned at the small group. It was enough to make the younger Knighties quail a bit, happy to be at the back of the crowd. Katrinka pushed Nancy forward. "You're the Leader here...lead, already!!" Nancy walked into the room, followed by the other seven Knighties. "Nick, we need to talk." "Beautiful sunrise," he responded, by way of greeting them. "Yes, it is," Nancy continued. "And we want you to see many, many more of them. Nick, I'm really sorry. I was coming up here to call you to breakfast and I overheard some of what you said. We're here as an intervention group. We really want you to listen to what we have to say." "There's nothing *to* say," Nick said, bitterness lacing his voice. "The choice I was given was to see the vampire community restored or see myself go berserk. Some choice! I gave it a lot of thought, and realized there was a third alternative." "No better than the other two, Nick, you know that," Nancy said as convincingly as she could. "You have to consider what the others want. Most of them aren't happy being mortal. Vampires don't kill indiscriminately anymore. What makes you think that turning them back would cause any more deaths in this city than there already are?" "Life stinks. This War stinks," Sandra chimed in. "You can't give God or the Devil the satisfaction." She spat the words out with vehemence. "If they exist at all." She looked around at the others. "Sorry if anyone's offended by that. Nick's gotten the rawest end of this deal. I can see why he would want to--" She broke off as tears filled her eyes. She blinked rapidly. She was supposed to be convincing Nick *not* to kill himself. But how could she do that? She took a deep breath and got herself back in control. Maybe logic... "Sure, Toronto would be free of vampires. But only for a while, Nick. The vampires that still exist beyond Toronto have no reason to stay away." Nick looked thoughtful, weighing Sandra's argument. "Nick," said Chris, the Knight Nurse, as she leaned forward tearfully. "Vampire or not, you'll always be the Nick we came to know and love. I believe that where there is love, there is God, and that your soul can never be beyond hope as long as you have love." She glanced briefly at Sandra, then took his hands, pausing for a split second to take in their warmth. "Even as a vampire you save lives and teach others to love--that is more than any of the others can ever say. We need you. We are a part of you. If you go, you will take a big part of us with you. Please stay, and be the Nick who brought us together, who makes us love you and care enough to come here to protect you!" She released his hands with reluctance, continuing to stare into the deep blue of his eyes. All she saw was sorrow. Eowyn stepped forward. "Please don't do this!" she begged with every fiber of her being. "There *has* to be an alternative solution." "And what would that be?" Nick asked quietly without expecting a real answer. "I don't know...yet. But there has to be one. You...we can't give up hope yet." "Hope," Nick snorted. "I have more hope of driving the Caddy on gas fumes than I do finding a solution here." "Well, what about the vampires that are mortal now? How are they going to defend themselves if the Enforcers do show up? As mortals they won't stand a chance against vampires. You have to give them the chance to defend themselves...as vampires." "I see no reason to help them. Besides, they *know* how to kill vampires. They can take care of themselves." "All right. I get it. There isn't a single good enough reason that will dissuade you from taking this course. Could you please just not do it because *we* ask you? Please, Nick!" Eowyn could see that she was getting nowhere. She moved out of his line of sight to a shadowed corner of the bedroom. Maybe someone else could say something that would get to him.... "Nick, suicide isn't the answer!" Katrinka stepped forward and stood up to her full height of five feet. When Nick's only response was to look at the floor, she continued. "Think of how many people's lives you will affect if you die." "Not many." The ex-vampire sounded morose. "You have friends and colleagues at work who would miss you," Katrinka told him. "Once my replacement is found, they will forget me." "Then what about us? The Knighties. We still need you." "You'll get over it." "There might be six billion people on Earth, but there is only one Nick Knight! We would like to keep you alive." "If I turn back into a vampire, I will be dead!" Nick pointed out. "You might not be human anymore, but you will be alive!" Katrinka tried to hold her temper. "I'm a Romany. We believe the walking dead are like zombies. We also believe that some vampires are still alive. Even when you are a vampire, you are very much alive to me." Nick shook his head, still not thoroughly convinced, although the arguments *were* beginning to wear a chink in the armor of his resolve. Mindy stepped forward, finally, and stood tall. With more courage than she felt, she dove right into the speech she had prepared. Better to talk now, before she lost her nerve. "Nick, killing yourself is not the answer," she began. "You think that you're saving the city from a plague of vampires, that you'll be saving human lives, right?" Nick nodded when she paused. "Well, perhaps you'll save a few...but what about the vampires? You will save mortal lives, but sacrifice a vampire's? What makes their lives any less valuable?" "Because they're killers," Nick replied gruffly. "Mortals kill, too. You know that," Mindy argued. "You're a cop, you see it every day! You would play judge and jury to a whole community by not assembling the staff? Because that's exactly what you'd be doing." Nick had the grace to look startled at that statement. He had been accused of being judge and jury before. He looked at the new Knightie with renewed respect. "In 800 years haven't you figured out that *you* cannot always decide what's best for everyone? Killing yourself is a mistake, Nick, not only for you, but for so many other people...vampires and mortals both." With that, Mindy seemed to run out of steam. Bowing her head, she backed off and waited to hear what the next Knightie would say to try and convince the obstinate ex-vampire. Stephanie stepped forward next. She had had a pretty active war, and wasn't thrilled with the prospect of losing Nick at the end of it. "Look, Nick, I've only known you for two weeks, and I don't have nearly the life experience that the others do." At 17, Steph was the youngest Knightie in the War. "I just thought you should realize something. Life is only what *you* make of it. I see you not as a vampire, *ex*-vampire, but as a melancholy being with a gift to see the life in others. You have so much inside you that needs to see the daylight, and so much that couldn't live without the moonlight. It will always be your choice, Nick, but please make the one that will let you live with yourself... and with us." Nick gave her a sad smile. Such youth! To be that young, with so much ahead to look forward to. He couldn't imagine what that felt like anymore. He was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of always being the one who had to make the decisions. Were they done now, he wondered? His answer came in the form of a young, green-eyed Zoe. "I haven't ever been very good with my own words in times like this," she said, looking up into his eyes. "I'd rather let my favorite poet, Lord Byron, speak for me." With that, she took a deep breath and began to recite. "These lips are mute, these eyes are dry: But in my breast and in my brain Awake the pangs that pass not by, The thought that ne'er shall sleep again. My soul nor deigns nor dares complain, Though grief and passion there rebel: I only know we loved in vain -- I only feel -- Farewell -- Farewell!" Still holding his gaze, she continued. "If you do this, Nick, I can't grieve. I won't. I won't be lured into this-- manipulated into mourning because you took the coward's way out." Nancy stepped in, looking between Zoe and the shocked Nick. "But, Zoe," she said softly, "Nick isn't being a coward by choosing his own death, he's martyring himself to save Toronto... and us. Only," she turned back to the object of their Intervention, "we don't want a martyr. We want a Hero. You have to make a choice, Nick. Think it through. Weigh *all* the alternatives. Get more information. But make the choice that is right for the most people--mortals and vampires alike. Stunned by their arguments and their support, Nick turned to gaze out at the rising sun. A golden hue washed over his face, suffusing his hair with an angelic glow. He stared at the light for a few moments, then turned back to the loyal woman, young and older, who had had the courage to speak their minds. "I will decide," he told them. "But first, I need more information. Perhaps it is time to visit with LaCroix." "But, Nick," Nancy sputtered, "why go to him? He'll try to make the decision for you!" "I need to know," he answered simply, "whether those turned mortal by my actions want that state reversed or not. LaCroix, perhaps, can tell me. But in the end, *I* will decide, and no one else." He made his way through the knot of his followers and headed for the phone. ~fin~ From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KrN5-0004rT-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 18:54:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5342; Sat, 28 Aug 99 18:52:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8150; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 18:52:37 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 18:55:30 -0400 Reply-To: Soulseeker Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Soulseeker Subject: War: NP:Salon: N&NPack's Purple Blues (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 504df64075ad3a0eaabb5b2cd31a0460 War: NP:Salon: N&NPack's Purple Blues (1/2) by Soulseeker and the N&NPack Thursday, Aug 26/99 Afternoon This post follows the NatPack's Salon: Beauty Is In The Eye... N&N HQ Tammy burst into Soulseeker's office, waving her hairbrush madly. Chana, who was sitting chatting with Soul, cast Tammy a curious glance. Soul had to stiffle a giggle as she noticed the reason for Tammy's arrival. Her hair was purple -- not just any purple but a bright almost glowing purple. Soul sighed. "What happened?" she asked, even though she had already guessed the answer. "They said it would be perfect...a nice red color. I ask you, does it even look remotely red? No!" Sensing that there was a lot more to come, Chana quickly interrupted, "Who?" Tammy paused, mid tirade, to sort out what was being asked, "Them!" Before Chana could question her further, four more figures appeared in the doorway, looking rather shame-faced. It was just as Soulseeker had suspected, "The Nuts." Tammy glared at them and they took a quick step back. Monique, feeling responsible, stepped forward. "Hi Soul, Chana. Um...it was an accident. We didn't know that Tammy's hair would turn that color." Monique sent a quick warning glare at Shannon who was trying to contain her chuckles. "We're very sorry." Soulseeker tried desperately not to laugh, it was rather a startling colour. "No more hair colouring this war, okay?" "You got it Soul," they were all quick to agree. "There has to be something we can do to fix this problem." Soul waved in Tammy's direction, "Any suggestions?" Absolute silence. "Uh, maybe we could recolor her hair?" suggested Wendy. "Not in your lifetime. I'm not letting any of you near me armed with hair dye," Tammy was quick to jump in. "Hmm...why don't we send her to a beauty parlour?" suggested Chana. Soul jumped at the suggestion, "Perfect! We'll ask Susan which ones she knows of. Cheryl can you go find Susan?" A few minutes later Susan appeared and eased her way past the group of N&NPackers crowding the doorway. She stopped dead when she saw Tammy. Soul watched Susan's lips twitching and wondered if she'd be able to conatin her laughter. "What's up, Soul?" "We need a beauty parlour. Any suggestions?" "Not offhand. Give me a minute," Susan pondered for a moment, "Hmmm....I do recall the Natpackers mentioning one a few wars ago that was really good. I think I can remember where it is, if you just give me a second." "Great! Thanks Sus. Okay, so who's up for a visit to the beauty parlour?" Soul asked as she gathered her purse and headed for the door. Within minutes eight N&NPackers were on their way to the beauty parlour. SOULSEEKER soulseeker@sprint.ca * soulseeker1@acmecity.com N&NPack Faction Leader-*-Lonely Hearts Co Faction Leader Mortal Love: http://tv.acmecity.com/tvthemes/136/ Lonely Hearts: http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/6195 From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KrYq-0004Hl-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:07:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8672; Sat, 28 Aug 99 19:04:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8785; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:04:45 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:06:43 PDT Reply-To: MacCousin Heather Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: MacCousin Heather Subject: WAR: NA/Enforcement/CGW: A Flash in the Night To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 535465a77000ad0df1a0cf3bb9a01024 WAR: NA/Enforcement/CGW: A Flash in the Night By Brenda Bell with help from Cousin Raven and MacCousin Heather Where: Father Andrew's hideway When: Wednesday, 8/25/99 around 11 PM Note: The Enforcements are back at the Blackwood cleaning up from the party, and Cousin Raven was 'borrowed' after the party to do the deed ************************* Wednesday: about 11PM, near a fallow field, in a farm outside Toronto. A lone black car turned up the dirt lane, following the directions the driver had been given, until it reached a dilapidated farmhouse that fit the description the informant had given her boss two days before. It was a strange request, surely, but one the Enforcers could easily handle: a simple Whammying joined with the subtle suggestions to release any cult programming the whammyee had previously received. While the Enforcers' annals had had many of these requests during the 1980's, the return of Western society to mainstream Christian religions and the discreditation and dissolution of many of the more invasive cults had made this sort of assignment much less common this decade. Shutting off the ignition, Captain Raven Blackbane stepped out of the car, double-checked her tool kit, and knocked on what remained of the door. "Be ye friend or foe?" came the answer from within. "I come from Father Andrew," the woman replied. "Then be ye welcome, an' ye enter of your ane free will." The door opened, and an unwashed man, wearing only a linen tunic, ushered her inside. "She's right here, Sister," the man said, leading her to a woman imprisoned in a long woolen swath of Clan MacDuff tartan. Raven crouched down to where the woman lay, unable to move. "You do know why I'm here, don't you?" "Chris said something aboot Father Andrew... an' somethin' that soonded like 'pre-Cana'..." she mumbled. *Pre-Cana, right*, Raven thought. "He thought you might have taken a fever," she said, moving close enough to examine the redhead's eyes to determine if she was as heavily-programmed as her fiance reportedly thought her to be. "Where are you?" she asked. "Dinnae. I was kidnapped frae the Shrine." Chris glared at Heather with the black stare of an abuser who was about to beat the life out of a child who wouldn't along with his lies. "What's your name." "Heather. Heather Poinsett-Dunbar," she said, seeing Chris's black gaze upon her above where Raven was crouching. *Good girl,* Chris whispered under his breath. "And do you know why you're here?" the examiner asked. "Chr-chr- Because Chris is jealous of MacNunkies," the prisoner stuttered. Raven drew back slightly. "Who is MacNunkies?" she asked. "MacNunkies," Heather replied, getting a drooly look on her face. "MacNunkies o' the bonny knees, wha' was brought across frae the ashes of Vesuvius." *An Addict," Raven said to herself. *This is serious.* Even Enforcers knew enough to try to steer clear of the Pompeiian. How would he react when he found that one of his Not-So-Vestal-Virgins had left his shrine? "Aye," Chris intervened, "an he's sae corrupted her tha' she thinks she can get awa' tae marry me, bu' he'll want her doory an' nae' jus' first night, bu' all nights, an' where are we supposed to hae bairns i' she's wi' him a' the time?" *Just as Andrew implied, an insanely jealous fiance, to boot,* Raven thought. "Chris, I need your help to do this," she said. "I need you to hold Heather's head still while I examine her more closely. Can you do that?" "Aye," the ersatz Scotsman replied, bringing his imprisoned fiancee upright and standing behind her, his hands keeping her head trained on Raven. "There, that's good," the Enforcer said. "I need you both to look straight at me," she said, pulling down her sunglasses over her eyes and removing the hypnotizer from her inside pocket. There was a whirr and a flash. Than she waited a moment, noticing the two blank stares. She began the deprogramming. "There are no vampires. There is no Nunkies. There is no such thing as prima nocte. You are in Toronto for your honeymoon. You are madly in love with each other; nobody else exists for either of you -- and you both trust each other completely," she told them, working the whammyizer in an effective arc. "And you will forget that I was ever here." As the couple blinked a few more times, Raven snapped the whammyizer closed, set it back in her breast pocket, and slipped back out into her car, and Toronto, before either of the two would come of the trance and find traces of her presence. ***************************** MacCousin Heather Keeper of the MacNunkies Tapestry http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/ ________________________________________________________________ Get FREE voicemail, fax and email at http://voicemail.excite.com Talk online at http://voicechat.excite.com From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KsHw-0006Xf-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:53:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8771; Sat, 28 Aug 99 19:51:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0216; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:51:23 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:53:05 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: UF: To Another Party We All Rome To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 73e76e783ae4b4bedb0aaf2efc42d94f WAR: UF: To Another Party We All Rome By: Susan Ellen Field, Julia Kocich, and the other named UFfers Time: Monday evening, Aug. 23rd Place: The NA Shrine Conversion Day Celebration Bons and the Shrine roof used with permission Several days earlier, in a discussion of upcoming War festivities and the increasing unlikelihood that the UF would either (a) make it to the various parties or (b) post anything about any of those parties, talk turned to the Nunkies' Conversion Day activities. A most unusually .. ebullient Les said, "I *do* so hope our UFfish ladies are wearing stolas to the Conversion Day party! The scandal if they went out in men's togas! After all, only women of ill repute ventured out in such garb when Lucius was alive!" "Before, that is," the didactic Cobra added. "What is a stola, again?" Susan answered, "It's basically a long robe, worn over the tunic by wealthy Roman ladies. They were brightly colored and usually made of silk or Indian linen." "OK, if you say so. So .. I'll guess we'll have Richard go in a toga. His knees could use a suntan," said Megan, although in truth she had no actual knowledge of the said knees. "And those of us who choose not to dress up can ... ogle at any other factional females who *do* show up in togas!" Julia said. Presence and Cleo giggled. "What about us? You gonna laugh at us, too?" asked Presence. Julia looked at her, curiously. "Why would I do that?" "Well, I'm going as Spartacus, and Cleo's Antoninus!" "Oh, well, that's all right, then: men in togas are perfectly fine," smiled Julia. Several UFfers, with typical UF enthusiasm, discussed the Conversion Day chariot race. Tyb and Perry could draw the UF chariot!!! However, with equally typical UF ... um ... organization ... they managed, just barely, to make it to the race, but only as spectators. But they did arrive at the Shrine for the party in time. "Susan, I didn't know the Romans had WonderBras," April said to her petite friend, who was hardly buxom. Susan reached in, and pulled out two peaches. "I was wondering what happened to all those peaches, earlier." "Er, might I ask what, or .. who ...you are dressed as?" "Why, Ben Her, of course!" Susan replied. "Susan, that's ...Ben HUR.". "Isn't that what I just said?" Susan sighed: sometimes she felt as if April never paid attention to anything April, wearing a gorgeous stola decorated in fake gems, rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's grab something to eat at the buffet table." Becky hurried over. "I took pictures of everything: the 5K run/walk, the camel jousting, and the chariot race! Just in case this story never gets posted. I'm learning that you can't trust anybody during War time," she added, conspiratorially. April interrupted her."Say, Becky, are those all ... tattoos?" "Oh, I treated myself to some body-painting. All of my very favorite scenes from the Pillow Book!" "Anyone seen Jules tonight?" Susan asked. "I did," April said. "She's sitting over there. She seems to be a bit upset. The center piece volcano that erupts really did, all over her printouts of War posts!" "I still think they could have had some hamburgers or something!" Susan said, trying desperatly to remove a piece of crawfish florentine from her teeth. Shan joined her at the buffet table and looked over the food choices with dismay. "What is it with these parties, anyway? None of them serve Tofu!" "Um, well, no, Shan. I'm afraid fermented soya beans were not considered a delicacy during the Roman empire. Here ... have some ... um ... well, I'm almost *certain* it's some sort of vegetable," said Julia, as Shan turned to go to the bar instead. The "The Temperate Toenotes" began their set. "Come on, guys! Let's dance!" said Susan. She had succeeded in removing the crawfish, and she wanted to dance! "A perky UFfer," thought Julia, "what a concept." "But you don't know how to dance, Susan!!" Becky said. "Like that's gonna stop me? Yeah, right!" Shan, Becky, and April followed Susan onto the dance floor in a show of UFfish solidarity. Lora and Julia lingered, watching the dance floor. Heads occasionally turned, and some curious titters were heard as other guests passed them. "Where *is* Bons?" asked Lora. The sooner they could deliver their gift to her, the happier Lora would be. Standing in the Nunkies Shrine with a cardboard cutout of Nick in a toga was not something you saw every Conversion Day. "Aw, come on, Lora! Enjoy your proximity to The Other Guy, Accoutred, why doncha?" said Julia, playfully putting her arm around the cutout, and encouraging Lora to do the same. "I *am* enjoying it," she said putting her arm around it as well. The UF had toga'd a first-season Nick--definitely her favorite image of him. Bons came up behind them. "Welcome, friends, UFfers and ... wow!" she exclaimed as they turned so she good get a better look at the image they held up between them. "I hope you enjoy this, Bons. I know you were hoping the original would show up here," Lora smiled at the thought. "And I do hope to see the rest of 'Survivors' soon." "Huh?" Julia said. "It's the last in Bons' 'Clare' epic. I got hooked last year when 'Survivors' started dropping--read the entire series. It stopped at 10B/25, and I'd love to read the rest." "So," smiled Bons, "there are strings attached to this present?" "Naaaah," replied Julia, "no room for strings under *that* toga." ~~~ The small group were on their way out after a lovely party. They were alternately disappointed and relieved not to have had a chance to talk to, or be talked to by, Lacroix. As they went outside, they heard a noise above them. It was Richard. He was a bit tipsy and he seemed to be inspecting the newly tarred roof. "Hurry guys!!" April yelled. "We have to get him off of there!" "Okay!" yelled Cleo to Lora and Becky. "You take the front, I'll take the back!" "April, help me with that bench." Soon Julia, April and Becky were on the roof. "Um, Lora, since tar doesn't really do much for a white wardrobe, why don't you coordinate us from down there?" said Julia, noticing for the first time that Lora was wearing white jeans and a white tank top. Richard, in an alcohol-fueled FK reverie, seemed to be singing love songs about ... it took the UFfers some moments to discern that it was Urs. A man on a roof in Toronto, dressed in toga and sandals, and singing love songs to Urs: I love the smell of FK War in the morning, thought April. His friends thought about a plan of action. "Yoo hoo!" said Julia in her best "Urs" voice. "Come over here, sweetie." Richard turned and saw ... well he certainly didn't see Julia ... and he started moving, in sticky, noisy, slow-motion, across the roof, lifting each sandaled foot with difficulty. "Man oh man," thought Julia, "the NA are gonna *kill* us!" Suddenly Richard lost his balance; the tar must have been dry on this part of the roof, because he fell and slid in slow motion to the very edge of the roof. Fortunately, his toga snagged on something and stopped his descent.The UFfers pulled him up to his feet, tearing his toga. "I never knew that Roman underwear ran to portrayals of ... would that be ... Bugsus Bunnius?" asked Jules, giggling. They maneuvered Richard down to street level, not without some difficulty. Julia, who was never without her handcuffs during War, pulled them out and placed them around Richard's hands as he sighed,"Urs! My beautiful Urs!" The other UFfers giggled discretely, while Julia tried to be ... what was the phrase? ... non-judgmental and sympathetic. But it wasn't any use -- she was already composing, in her mind, the message to the NA that Richard would be delivering the next morning. GROUT duty might be bad, but retarring duty couldn't be much more pleasant, she thought. Hmm ... she'd have to ask his wife what his attitude was toward Nunkies. Fin From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ksa7-00060L-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 20:12:23 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5551; Sat, 28 Aug 99 20:10:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1229; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 20:10:07 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 20:11:47 EDT Reply-To: Josette@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Nom de Plume Subject: WAR: NP: Moonlight Magick (1/1) aka, the Circle post To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 07079c1931f530b58869bd1d1327458a "Moonlight Magick" (1/1) by Robyn and the NatPack Time: Thursday, August 26 Place: the park Everyone used with appropriate permission. Lir and Nin (you'll see *g*) are mine. *** The night was crisp, clear, and members of various waring factions (and the odd familiar here and there) had come together to celebrate a common, but still magical, rite under the light of the full moon. White candles blazed, denotating the boundries of a circle. After introductions had been made, and all 42 people had taken their places, Robyn felt it was safe to begin. "First of all, let me say thank you for coming tonight. I know this has been a very ... trying war for some of us, and things haven't exactly been as wonderful as they could have been." Several murmurs of agreement came from the assembled people, especially from the contingent from the Unnamed Faction and the NatPack. "I'm sure you all know that the Harem has pulled out of this war. A few were supposed to be here tonight, but events and plots occassionaly have ways of conspiring against us. However, I know they are with us in spirit, and I'm sure they wish us well. So, on that note, let us begin." For several minutes each person sat on the ground, bathed in silvery moonlight and the soft light of the candles, and searched for their centers, for that which was their essence. When it became obvious that everyone was calm, and ready, Shana turned to her right, facing east. "Welcome our minds to your essence, Air," she said, as she sprinkled the herbs over charcoal. As the combined scents of sandalwood, frankincense, and myhrr wafted through the clearing, Tina faced south and lit a candle, saying, "Welcome our hearts to your esscence, Fire." Then Morgaine turned toward the west and, sprinkling water from a chalice said, "Welcome our lives to your essence, Water." Amythest Dragon looked northward, and said, "Welcome our bodies to your essence, Earth," as she scattered salt on the ground. Tipping back her head to gaze at the moon, she stretched out her arms a said, "Great Goddess, mother of all, you who have been called Gaea, Diana, Ceridwen, Isis, and Mari, we have come here tonight to honor you. Welcome to this circle, and to our minds, hearts, and souls." *** A short while later laughter, like the sound of bells tinkling, rang out in the night. Throughout the circle, people sat talking and smiling, and just generally relaxing. Meg, who was giggling almost uncontrolably at something Marci had said, managed to sputter, "I think I need a drink of ..." but broke off when she lapsed back into a fit of giggles. But Bre and Jill (who seemed to be bouncing in place), among others, had managed to make out her words, and started looking for the food. Upon realizing what was needed, Stephanie raised her herb punch and solar balls - {It should be noted here that at the same time, Debra Ann raised a jug of mead, Lynn a bottle of Chardonnay, Chelle a bottle of Dandelion wine, Lady Angst a Stonehenge shaped chocolate cake, and Robyn raised crescent cookies and apple juice.} - and said, "All of this came from the earth - may it nourish our bodies. Goddess, we thank you for your blessings. Enjoy with us!" More laughter rang out, and the food and drink were passed around the circle for the enjoyment, and benefit, of all. Smiles were everywhere. The Dark Perks and a Ravenette swapped war stories, while the UF and the N&NPers had an interesting discussion. All of a sudden, June jerked upright. "Uh ... guys? Brenda's starting to, well, glow. Green." Sure enough, Brenda was glowing. In fact, it was, to be quite honest, bright-enough-to-light-up-the-entire-city-of-Toronto neon green. "The Faer Ones must be around," Robyn mused, just as Marilyn said, "What's wrong?" "No, nothing's wrong," Brenda said. "Never mind my glow." Just then, Meg (who had finally recovered from her giggles) sneezed. Again and again. "What, , is this stuff?" "What stuff?" Jade called, from the other side of the circle. "I think she means *this*," Raven said, gesturing to a very fine, glittery _something_ that seemed to be falling on the circle. "Pixie dust?" Angela asked. "Considering Brenda's current state," Cleo said, "I'd say it's more likely faery dust." "Wonder what it's for?" someone queried. "With the Faer Ones, you never know," Brenda told them. *** Up in the tree tops, two of the smaller faer ones, one blue (Lir) and one yellow (Nin), were arguing. Or rather, the yellow one was getting its ear chewed off. "What did I tell you?" the Lir shouted. "I told you to wait! Now look what you've done!" "It's not so bad ..." the Nin responded. "Not so bad?!? You dropped the wrong stuff! You were supposed to sprinkle them with happy dust, so they'd go home happy." Nin looked confused. "So, what did I do?" Lir made a show of counting to ten. "Give me the bag." Without a sound, Nin handed over the dust bag. Lir glanced at it, and groaned. "What!?" Nin exclaimed. Lir sighed. *Trainees, they never seen to learn.* "You coated them with fanfic dust, Nin. Fanfic dust." "And that's a bad thing? I thought ... I mean, isn't that good? They all either read, or write, fanfic, right?" "Yes, Nin, they do. Some do both. Problem is, there were no directions on that dust. So, who's to say what will happen. One of them may get the urge to write something. Some might start wanting to read more and more or ..." "Or what?" Nin urged, face anxious. "Well, it might be that a N&Per suddenly develops a taste for UF fiction, or vice versa. Maybe a Dark Perk will start craving stories about an abnormally perky, cheerful, fluffy version of their leader." Nin gulped. "Of course," Lir continued, "some of them maybe totally *unaffected.* It all depends on how sensitive they are to fanfic to begin with." Nin gulped, "Ummm ... 'I'm sorry' isn't gonna help this time, is it?" "Nope," Lir told him. "Go on home. I'll file a report about this later, but I'm sure you can expect to be bumped back to the garden until you learn the difference between dusts." "Awwwww, darn ..." Nin grumbled, as he disappeared. "Will they never learn?" Lir asked, casting his gaze towards the moon, before he, too, blinked out of sight. *** Smiling faces, all traces of nervousness gone, were to be seen as they gathered to close the circle. Once again, Robyn tipped her head back, and said, "Goddess we thank you for your presence, and ask for your blessing as you depart. Farewell and blessed be!" Amythest Dragon scattered the remaining salt as she said, "We ask for your blessing Earth, as you depart. Let there be peace between us. Farewell." Then Morgaine rose and emptied the chalice, saying, "We ask for your blessing Water, as you depart. Let there be peace between us. Farewell." Tina exstinguished the candle, murmuring, "We ask for your blessing Fire, as you depart. Let there be peace between us. Farewell." "We ask for your blessing Air, as you depart. Let there be peace between us. Farewell," Shana whispered, removing the charcoal and setting them aside to cool. Slowly, everyone rose to their feet and joined hands. Smiling, Robyn said the words that would formally close the circle. "The circle is open, but unbroken. May the peace of the Goddess go in our hearts. Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again." *And pass the food* Grace grumbled. *** End Notes: 1) I tried to stick with a *very* basic esbat format (it leaves a lot to the imagination, as well), so as not to make this overly complicated. 2) With 42 people, I could not include everyone's name. So, here is a list of those who attended. NatPack: Jill, Debra Ann, Meg, Lady Angst, Tina, Robyn (and Grace), Lynn, Valerie, and Kimberley. UF: Bre, Marilyn, Lora, Amy, Shan, Prudence, Cleo, Debi, Megan, Susan, April, Becky, Chele, Dawn, Richard, Laurey, and Shelley. N&NP: Amythest Dragon (Rogue Cousin Tammy), Laila, Marci, and Angela. CotK: Morgaine and Anjali. Ind/CGW: Brenda Cousins: Cousin Tok Mercs: Mildred (Merc Mommy General and Computer Genius) DP: Shana and June. Ravenettes: Kimberly GSS: Jade Enforcements: Raven Knighties: Stephanie ?: Paula Cobb And any familiars that came with their people. 3) I'm SO *very* sorry this is so late. I've had an extremely rough week, and some recent storm activity kept me from my computer. Forgive me? ========================================================= Robyn ~ Josette@aol.com ~ http://thor.prohosting.com/~nanette/menu.htm Nanette & Associate NatPack Webmistress ~ XPhile ~ Slayerette ~ Xenite ~ ========================================================= Are there women, really? --Simone de Beauvoir From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KtlE-0000CY-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:27:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7013; Sat, 28 Aug 99 21:24:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4371; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:24:14 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:28:12 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack - Feather Busters To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0474352d60df1c8f0bc001eacf059498 WAR: N&NPack: Feather Busters By: Susan B. & The N&NPack Time: Friday morning, after RAVEN: A Flight of Ravens' Place: N&NPack Theatre - - - - - - - Michelle, Carrie, Angela, and Wendy had been so entranced watching NiQ on the big screen, that they didn't realize they were under attack until it was too late to do anything. "WHAT'S THAT!" Carrie screamed as a flock of big black birds flew over their heads. "They're crows!" Angela shouted back. "How the heck...." She turned to Wendy and glared at her. "Aren't you and Michelle supposed to be on guard duty right now?" Wendy glanced quickly at Michelle and the two women sprang from their seats. They rushed into the Lobby. "It's too late!" Michelle cried out, trying to make herself heard over the din of the ravens. "The Ravenettes have been here!" Back in the theatre, Carrie and Angela waited for the end of the kissing scene and then went to join Wendy and Michelle in the Lobby. "How did they know it was us?" Wendy asked. "When I was at the FoDS party the other night, I heard a rumour that the Ravenettes thought the Nick&Natpackers were Natpackers." "Why would they think that? Angela asked curiously. Wendy shrugged. "Don't know," she replied. "Do you suppose someone got into the Raven after us and scratched Nick's name off all the Nick&Natpacker tee-shirts?" Michelle pondered aloud. "Another faction maybe?" Carrie sighed. "Yeah, right," she said, "and I suppose they scratched Nick's face off too and left Nat standing there sticking her tongue into the thin air." Angela shook her head. "Thank goodness they didn't let these birds loose at the morgue - Nat would have had a fit. She's so meticulous with her work, unless of course her work involves the victim of a vampire in which case she's a little lax. Nevermind. Imagine the havoc those feathers, not to mention other things, could have had on her autopsy reports!" "Yeah, that might have put a slight crimp in our annual group photo in front of the Coroner's building," Wendy mumbled. The four girls were still standing around the Lobby chatting when Soulseeker walked through with a mischevious grin on her face and paying absolutely no notice to the birds. "I'm off to the hobby shop for some darts," she told the quartet. "Lots and lots of darts." "You're not going to kill them are you!" Angela shrieked. "Kill what?" Soulseeker replied, unusually distracted. Angela pointed to the birds overhead. "Uh... them..." Soulseeker shook her head. "Of course not," she said. "Gather up all the brooms you can and start shooing them out. "Hmmm... I don't know," Carrie muttered as she headed out to gather up brooms. "After all, I did miss that Enforcers BBQ... and marinated raven on the grill could feed a whole lot of us. - - - - Susan B. freestyle@idirect.com "That which you know, you ignore because it is inconvenient. That which you do not know, you invent." (Delenn, B5, TDoFS) From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KtnH-00003J-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:30:03 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9001; Sat, 28 Aug 99 21:27:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4452; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:27:28 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:30:55 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: Mistake made on *three* war posts X-cc: forkni-l@lists.psu.edu To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4a7cea4c6db2e7bfc4321276a6f29d49 I tried to post this here yesterday, but was over my limit in posts for the day. I've since found out I made another mistake in credits on another post (I must have had some sort of brain freeze where Chris Forward was concerned--sorry again, Chris!). In my post, "Knightie Detective Work (1/2)" the appropriate credit line should read: by Sandra Gray with input from Chris Forward The part below the dotted line I posted yesterday to forkni-l. ---------------------------------------------------------- Despite doing a final check of my war posts before posting, I just noticed I made a mistake in the credits on two of them. I credited Chris Rosmini for input and some dialogue in the posts, "Knighties Check Out a Book (1/1)" and "Heart's Desire (1/1)". The pertinent credit line in both those posts should read: by Sandra Gray, with input and some dialogue by Chris Forward My apologies, Chris Forward, for the mistake. Should I repost corrected versions of these posts with the correct credits information to fkfic-l? Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:45 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KtxX-0001lY-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:40:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5829; Sat, 28 Aug 99 21:38:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5228; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:38:26 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 18:40:23 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--The Cube of Unlife To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7e89124936822dac14f4204f929f0c86 27 Aug 1999 The Loft Toronto, ON 12 noon Disclaimers: Nick's Loft and Knightie Eowyn used with her gracious permission. Gracias! I don't own 'Cow and Chicken', either. The Cube of Unlife By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia "Oh, c'mon, fellas, we've come this far! Let's just get this over with!" The Vaq Adj was getting impatient (just getting?) with the two ex-vampire brothers. So far, on the way to Nick's Loft, they had stopped to smell the roses, literally, four times. Teresita laughed. "It's not like you couldn't smell them before," she said. Juan looked at her. "I know, but they smell different in the day." "Like sunshine," Vachon put in. They looked at each other, and somehow communicated without words. "Oh, wow, Twinner! It *is* contagious!" Felicia laughed at the two brothers, who simply blinked back at her. "Yikes," Rae said looking at the two sets of Vaq twins. "Let's move out! We've got plans to make, havoc to wreak. . ." Her voice trailed off as she shoved at Juan and Vachon. Tabitha grinned as they approached the old warehouse which served as Nick's domicile. "Wow, the Loft! How cool!" "It is, isn't it! I've always wanted to visit here." This was from Tammy. Cliff snickered, and opened his mouth. Echo slapped a hand over it before he could speak. "PG-13, remember?" Cliff nodded and closed his mouth. Scott just shook his head. "I wonder if Nat is visiting," he quieried. "I could comment, but seein' as it's such a nice day, and I'm so magnanomous and all, I won't," Felicia said. "Thanks a lot." "You know," Melissa said thoughtfully, "I've always coveted Nick's TV. Ya know, the one with the big huge screen." "Hey! Maybe if we're really good and nice and polite and all of that, he'll let us watch something on it! Whaddya think," Sarah asked. JoAnne frowned. "Like what?" "Oh, I don't know, a tv show about a tv network, maybe," Rae suggested. "A movie about a gangster," Teresita put forth. "A murder mystery," Felicia mused. "Naaaaahhhhh," the three said in unison. Vachon just looked at them with a confused expression on his face. The Vaqs reached the door and Stephanie leaned on the buzzer. A voice came from the speaker, "Yes?" Tracy Sue cleared her throat. "Umm, we're here, the Vaqs that is, and Vachon." An "ahem" came from behind her. Tracy Sue muttered," Oops," and then said clearly, "And Juan, the Inca." The voice returned. "Oh, okay guys. I'll release the door." With that, there was a loud 'clang', and the elevator appeared. Scott stepped forward, "Here, y'all, ladies first," he said holding open the door. "Aw, thanks." Emma shoved passed him into the small lift. "Umm, I think we'll have to take this in shifts," she called out. "Not necessary! I'll do the stairs," Felicia called, heading for that door. "I'm with you, Twinks," Teresita said. Juan, Tammy, Tabitha, and Rae shrugged and followed the Vaquera Second in Command. Erica turned to Nafs. "That would be excersise, would it not?" "I believe so, yes." "Not gonna do it." "I'm with you guys," Laplor stated firmly. The others agreed. They packed themselves into the elevator like sardines, and shut the door. "Okay, who can reach the button. . . ." Meanwhile, the stair-climbing group had reached their destination. Eowyn, the Knightie in charge of receiving deliveries for that day, unlocked the door and ushered them in. "I thought there were more of you," she said. "Where's Vachon?" Felicia looked around. "You mean they're not here? They took the elevator. . ." "*All* of them," Juan asked, incredulously. "How many people are we talking about?" "Well," Teresita began, "there's Vachon and TS. .. " Tammy picked it up. "Right, and Nafs, Erica, Laplor, Emma, Echo, and Cliff. . ." ". . . and Scott, and Becky, Stephanie and Imajiru, Donna. . ." Tabitha ticked off her fingers as she counted. "And Melissa and JoAnne and Sarah," Rae finished. "I think that's everyone." Eowyn let out a gasp. "*Eighteen*?! There are *eighteen* Vaqs in my elevator? Good grief, no wonder the thing hasn't gotten up here yet!" There was a very loud creak, and all turned to see the arrival of the poor elevator. "There they are!" Tammy ran over to open the door. What she saw when she did made her giggle. In fact, it made all of the people who were actually in the loft giggle. Okay, they laughed. "I don't see how this is funny," said a very cramped ex-Conquistadore. "That's because you're not over here," said a very comfortable ex-Warrior. "Help us!" Felicia and Eowyn looked at each other, and with a sigh, each moved to the elevator. Eowyn stood on the right in front of Tracy Sue, and Felicia stood before the original Vaquero. Eowyn commanded them, "Give each of us a hand." Vachon frowned. "I can't reach you from here." Eowyn shot the Vaq Adj a look that said, "These are *your* people, deal with them." Felicia interpreted the look correctly. "Javier, be a lamb and just give me your hand, okay? Tracy Sue will reach to Eowyn." "Oh. Sorry. This is another new one on me." "It'll be over soon. Now reach!" He put one hand out, and Tracy Sue reached for Eowyn. They took the respective hands and on the count of three, pulled for all they were worth. There was a loud pop, and the captives came hurling out of the elevator. The flew with such force that Tracy Sue landed on top of Eowyn. When Vachon came out, Felicia, the Kenpo Queen did what came naturally. She ducked to the floor and completely a routine Judo roll which effectively tossed the ex-vamp over her. "Ooooh, ouch, that hurt! Why'd ya do that? I'm on *your* side, remember?" The Vaqs and Eowyn made a circle around Vachon, who lay on his back with a puzzled expression on his face. They looked at him, and turned to the budding martial artist. Felicia walked over slowly and extended a hand. "I'm sorry, really. It's a habit." "But that's not Kenpo!" "Yeah, well, our system does a bit of Martial Arts cross-training." "Great. I'll keep that in mind." He took her hand and she pulled him up. "You okay, Javier?" Juan looked at his brother with a huge grin. "I take it you've never learned to fall properly. Usually, shouting something when you land helps." "I thought I did. I remember shouting 'ouch'. And just what do you know about it? When did you study Martial Arts," Vachon shot to Juan. "Lemme guess, Juan. Bruce Lee, right?" The Inca just smiled. "Okay, people! Where are the Cube bits we came to turn in," Felicia was once again all business. "Better question, *what are the cube bits?" "Wait, I know this one! There a unit of measurement used by the Egyptians, right?" Felicia sighed. "No. I mean, yes. I mean, not that kind of cubit! The ones from the cube of unlife. Ya know, the reason we came over here!" Echo grinned. "I thought we came for the TV!" She jumped over the back of Nick's couch and slid into position. She grabbed the remote control and the huge television came to life. "Cool! I love 'Cow and Chicken'!" Several other Vaqs gathered around the glow of the big screen. Felicia shook her blonde head and turned to Tracy Sue. "Where are the cube bits, VaqMadre?" "Oh, I've got them. Here ya go, Eowyn. I hope Nick will do the right thing." "Everything will be fine, I promise," the Knightie said. "And you are welcome to watch some TV. I can see it's right up your slacker-type alley." The two Vaq leaders smiled warmly. "Muchas Gracias," they said in unison. Eowyn smiled and walked off to store the two pieces of the puzzle. "That mind melt thing is getting to be quite a phenomenon with those people." Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2, Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!) Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KuKL-0002Vd-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:04:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7223; Sat, 28 Aug 99 22:01:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7117; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:01:40 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:03:36 -0500 Reply-To: CLone Star Software Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: CLone Star Software Subject: WAR: N&NPack: Beer, Eggs, and Spirits, Oh My! (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3c2fab61d074fc4614c292fc9f81d29d War: N&NPack: Beer, Eggs, and Spirits, Oh My! (1/1) By: Laila HaNassi and Marci C. Time: After "N&NPack's Purple Blues" and before the NPack's "Moonlight Magick" Place: N&NPack HQ All persons used with their permission. "Marci, have you seen Laila anywhere?" Angela asked. Marci looked up from the book she was reading.. "Not lately, why?" "We just ran into Shannon and she said that Laila was in the kitchen earlier , took a dozen eggs and a six pack of beer from the fridge, and left muttering something about the bathroom." Tammy said. Marci raised an eyebrow. "If she eats a dozen raw eggs with a six pack chaser she's gonna NEED a bathroom." She got up and joined the other two N&NP's at the door. "We better find her." The trio headed for the bath area. As they neared, they could hear what sounded like chanting coming from it. Tammy listened. "Sounds like she might be doing a ritual of some sort, but with beer and eggs?" Angela looked doubtful, "In what language? Is that Gaelic or something else?" Marci frowned. Something about that sounded familiar. "Is Laila a Wiccan?" Angela asked. Marci shook her head. "I'm not sure." Tammy walked to the bathroom door and knocked. "Laila? Is everything okay?" The strange sounds from inside stopped. "Um, yes, I'm fine." Laila replied. Angela noticed that Tammy was sniffing at the doorframe. "What is it?" She whispered. Tammy motioned the other two over. "Take a whiff, smells like she's poured the beer all over in there!" Marci spoke up. "Laila, open the door, please." She waited a minute then added. "I'll get the key from Soul if you don't." The three of them heard Laila muttering something about not having ANY privacy followed by the sound of the door being unlocked. Bracing themselves, they opened the door and went inside. Laila was wrapped in a fuzzy bathrobe, that immediately reminded them of the one Natalie had worn in Night in Question, a N&NP favorite episode. They also noticed that there seemed to be even more of Laila's bright purplish hair. It looked like a small furry animal was perched on her head! For several moments, none of them could speak so mesmerized were they by the sight. Finally, Angela wrinkled her nose. "Whew! What have you been doing in here? This place smells like a drunk chicken coop." "I didn't know chicken coops could drink." Laila said, a bit tartly. Tammy leaned a bit closer and sniffed. "Laila, you smell like the inside of a beer bottle." Marci walked over to the tub and noted the deep amber color of the 'water'. "Why were you taking a bath in beer?" She asked. Angela and Tammy looked in the tub. "What a waste of a good six pack." Marci said, sadly. All three looked at Laila. "Well?" asked Tammy. "What have you been doing?" Angela asked. "And why the beer and eggs?" Marci said, picking up several pieces of broken eggshells. "I'm trying to keep from going crazy!" Laila said. "Ever since this happened," she indicated her hair, "I've been having some really weird things happening to me." "Weird how?" Angela asked as the three began to try and comfort Laila. Laila looked at her friends. "Come with me, maybe I can show you." She led the way out of the bathroom and back to her bedroom. "Look inside and tell me what you see." Laila said. One by one they first looked inside and then at each other. "Well?" Laila asked. "Okay, I see your bed, the dressing table, some clothes," Marci said watching Tammy and Angela nod in agreement, "and a man." Laila's eyes widened. "Is he wearing a three piece suit?" She asked. Marci glanced back inside. "Yep. Who is he?" "He's my father." Laila replied. "Who passed into Summerland two years ago." "Oookaaay, and the beer and eggs were to...?" Tammy asked. "To make him go away, but obviously it didn't work." Laila said. Why do you want him to go away?" Angela asked. "Because I think he's trying to set me up with a friend of his there, someone named Gaden or Galwin. Daddy hasn't actually spoken, I just seem to know what it is he's trying to tell me." Laila said. "Dating someone who's in Summerland would be difficult." Marci said. She flinched slightly at the glare Laila gave her. "No kidding!" Laila said. "Actually, I just want him to stop talking to me. I haven't had a good night's sleep since my hair got this color!" "Oh that's horrible!" Angela said. "Laila, we had no idea!" Marci and Tammy joined in. "What am I going to do! I have to get some sleep." Laila said. "Why don't you let him introduce you to his friend? Then maybe he'll leave." Marci suggested. "I thought I was losing my mind." Laila said. "Do you think that might work?" She asked, hopefully. Angela smiled. "Can't see where it would hurt to try?" The four sat down and gathered their energies. When she could sense that her fellow N&NP's were ready, Laila spoke. "These are some friends of mine, daddy. Is if okay for them to be here, too?" The figure of Laila's father smiled and nodded. "I'm ready to meet your friend now." Laila said. There was a shimmering and a soft breeze seemed to pass through the room. The figure of a man, dressed in ancient Greek garb appeared beside Laila's father. "I've been wanting to speak to you, for you are in a position to assist me." The figure said. "I am called Galen. In my time I was famed as a magician and healer. The N&NP's looked at each other. "Galen as in Galen's Cube?" Tammy wondered aloud. "Yes, the cube was originally my invention, as a cure for vampirism. But it is only a temporary cure." Galen told them. "Oh no! Poor Nick!" Angela said softly. "The Cube is not the only part of the magic, there is also a staff that must be assembled. " Galen said. "Right, I read about that." Tammy said excitedly. "What does the staff look like?" "The staff is composed of many parts, some of which are here in this very building. If the staff is not assembled and the Cube placed on the top of it, all those except the one who activated the Cube will remain in their current conditions." Galen told them. "You mean LaCroix would stay mortal?" Tammy almost moaned. "What happens if the staff is assembled?" Marci asked. "Then all will return to what it was before the Cube was used." Galen replied. "You said that part of the staff was here?" Laila said, seeking confirmation that the three items the N&NP had were indeed parts of the staff. "Where is it?" "Two in this room have a part of it, as does the leader of this group." Galen replied. "Right," Marci said, "there's Soul's necklace." "My wand," Angela added. "And the piece I got from the FoD's!" Tammy joined in. Laila turned to Galen. "Does this mean that Nick will never find his cure?" Galen shook his head. "There is a cure, but it may not be what the seeker thinks it is. To achieve a true cure requires more than my poor magic. It requires Faith and Love. For only when the seeker has Faith in his own worth and the ability to share the Love that surrounds him, shall he know peace." The one you speak of has chosen a difficult path, but he must not give into despair. He must be made to see that he does not travel his path alone, that there is one that will aid and support him in his quest. If he will trust the deepest feelings of his heart, he will, in time overcome his burden." With these words, Galen faded from sight. The four N&NPs sat silently as they considered what they'd just learned. Finally Laila turned to her father. "Thank you, daddy. Now will I be able to get some sleep?" Her father smiled and spoke aloud. "Use a swim cap." Then he too, vanished from sight. Laila smiled, even though she could no longer see him, she still sensed that her father was close by and she welcomed his continued presence. She rose and headed for the door. "Where are you going?" Marci asked. "To wash off this beer smell, then out to find a swim cap before I go to the NP's Circle." Laila said. Tammy glanced at her watch. "Yikes, I need to get started on my preparations for that circle." Angela nodded, "Me too, especially with what we've just learned. I need to meditate before we leave to clear my mind for the ceremony." The others left Laila's room to make their own preparations. As the foursome headed to the NP Circle later that day, Laila was still smiling. Her father's words and what they'd learned from Galen had lightened her heart and given her a sense of peace. Marci, Angela, and Tammy were smiling too, but their smiles were not as spiritual. Theirs were from the sight of Laila and the white swim cap that now covered her hair. Laila grinned. "Don't worry, I'll take it off before the ceremony starts." The end From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KuQX-0002g2-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:10:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9284; Sat, 28 Aug 99 22:08:06 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7403; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:08:06 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:00:53 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: Mercs: A Poobah Must Do What a Poobah Must Do (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4b8e5c0c8ce07718cb64d715e8a75c0e WAR: Mercs: A Poobah Must Do What a Poobah Must Do (01/01) by Laurie MercBard PLACE: Merc Central TIME: Between parts 2 and 3 of NA: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole Something was wrong with this picture. The GHP stared in disgust at the image reflected in the mirror. She *hated* disguises, and since becoming Poobah, had rarely had to sink to such levels to achieve her goals. Usually, the information came to her. But, in this particularly sensitive situation, she would actually have to take a meeting. It was the usual disguise: cloak, sunglasses, floppy hat, wig, etc. Unfortunately, Costume Mistress Heather had not been around much this war, and nothing fit quite right. The hat flopped a bit too low on the Poobah's forehead, the sunglasses were rimmed with rhinestones, and the cloak was much too big for her petite frame. She looked ridiculous. "The things I do to move storylines forward," she fumed, ripping the hat off her head and stomping on it. "How many times have I told these people, I am the Grand High Poobah, I am all important and knowing, I am always right, and I *cannot* be made to look foolish in a post. I'll have to think up something truly evil to do to them next war." Grabbing her hat, she headed out the door, intent on advancing the plot line and making sure that any stories in which she was mentioned portrayed her as the winner she always was. Laurie MercBard, lschlag@reporters.net Mercenary Guild GHP, Head Troublette; First One, Clan Knotwell "Being right all the time is a heavy burden, especially when you're wrong" - GHP Pearls of Wisdom From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KufW-0001qd-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:26:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7279; Sat, 28 Aug 99 22:23:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7892; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:23:52 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:25:49 PDT Reply-To: Lisa Harvey Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Harvey Subject: WAR: CotK: Every Addict has her day To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 24b26f43e66665ad939f03d76a8480f7 WAR: CotK: Every Addict has her day Written by: Anjali Time: Sometime during Conversion Day And after "Fancy Meeting You Here" Starring LaCroix and CotK members, Morgaine, Lisa Harvey, JL Kerr and Anjali. (with permission to have LC featured) Morgaine, Lisa, JL and Anjali wandered around the Jewelled Peach during the Conversion Day party. All in all it had been a good day but now it was nearly time for them to leave. "Hadn't we better find Margie and Kyer?" JL asked. Lisa looked around one last time, "But we haven't got to meet LaCroix yet!" the CotK's resident addict complained. 'Good' Anjali thought silently, suddenly feeling panicky. She really liked Nick *and* LaCroix but HE wouldn't know that - especially considering what they had done. He would probably kill her before she had a chance to explain! She groaned, inwardly. "Let's have a look at the present again!" Morgaine said for the ninth time. Anjali grinned, glad for the distraction and pulled the two frames from their protective covers. The four CotK members leaned over it to admire their handywork. The first frame had in it a black and white photo that they had lifted from the episode 'Close Call'. JL's computer skills had allowed her to remove Janette from the photo to leave Nick and LaCroix. Knowing how much LaCroix loved Nick, and also that the two vampires being the focal point of their faction, they hoped HE would appreciate it. The second photo featured the six members of CotK playing in the war in their togas. Kyer, who who had been persuaded to wear a toga just for the photo, and Margie were wearing the traditional white, whereas Morgaine wore her colour of choice, black; Anjali had tye-died hers blue; JL had chosen dark green and Lisa had opted for purple. Around both pictures they had put their banner quote "Even when they are trying to kill you, they are still family" and across the bottom was written "Cousins of the Knight". Their logo in the corner featured crossed swords, (one Crusader style, the other Roman) the chain of a pocketwatch intertwined with their blades, written on it the watch itself 'Forever'. It symbolised what their faction stood for. Anjali slipped the pictures back into their covers. "Great job, JL" Lisa told her. "Is this something I should know about?" came a voice from behind them. The four CotK members froze. They would have recognised his voice anywhere. Slowly they turned around and said nothing, only stared at him wide eyed. LaCroix. Anjali resisted the urge to run away screaming at the top of her lungs and only handed the framed pictures over to him. Morgaine seemed to be the only one capable of speech. "It's a Conversion day gift from the Cousins of the Knight to you." she told him. "I see." He removed the pictures from the covering and Anjali thought she saw a flicker of a smile on his lips, but she couldn't be sure. He looked at the photos for several moments before replacing them. "How thoughtful of you." Anjali guessed that was his way of saying 'thank you' and smiled nervously. Very nervously. Lisa was still dumbstruck. LaCroix looked down at her. "Miss Harvey, isn't it." It was not a question. "I would ask you why you had not chosen to play with the cousins in this war," he paused, "but I know that the Cousins of the Knight consider their faction an honor to me." Lisa opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. "It's, er, definately been an honour meeting you, um..." Nunkies? LaCroix? Uncle? General? Anjali stuttered, trying to force herself to speak. "...uh, sir" "Yes," Lisa squeaked, finally finding her voice. LaCroix half smiled. "You'll excuse me." and he continued walking past. The CotK members observed that even as a mortal he gave the impression of power and grace simultaneously. Once he was out of mortal hearing shot, Anjali sank to the floor in relief. Obviously LaCroix had not heard about their little prank. Morgaine was jumping up and down holding onto Lisa's arm. "Cool!" she squealed. Lisa was still in shock. "Did that really just happen?" Lisa mumbled. "Yeah," JL said. "Either that or we're all crazy!" Anjali said, jumping to her feet and hugging them all and feeling very happy to still be alive. "But don't answer that." "Quick, let's go find the others and tell them!" Morgaine suggested, and began dragging her friends back to where they had last seen the other two Cousins of the Knight. Lisa lmharvey@hotmail.com ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kui6-0003EH-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:28:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9318; Sat, 28 Aug 99 22:25:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7922; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:25:02 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:24:14 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Come Back, Come Back, All I Said! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d620db4abeb72f078a596f1e8ac92928 Knighties: Come Back, Come Back, All I Said! by Chris Rosmini Monday August 23, sometime before Heart's Desire The Loft Named Knighties used with permission. Roz leaned against the window frame and watched as Chris and Sandra drove away in their rented car, staunchly continuing their Search despite the disappointments of last week. It had seemed _so_ promising right at the first, finding that stuff on the net and that odd bit of debris. And then nothing but dead ends and disasters. And cookies, she reminded herself, trying womanfully to see the bright side. Of course some of the cookies were disasters, if it came right down to it. Culinary chaos had been the theme of the week: Kat's Catastrophic Curries, holes blown in the floor, food fights; the rugs would have to be cleaned for sure. Caddynapping was a close contender but really food and overindulgence in same, took the prize. She had to smile a bit then. That certainly had been the upside, watching Nick eat food for the first time in centuries, foods he had never tasted before. Watching him have fun. She'd give a lot to see him able to do that without all the pandemonium of Wars and Legends and Stuff. She slid down the wall to sit on the floor, recognizing the futility of looking for a seat unoccupied by a sitter or a pile of bedding, a laptop, clothing, cooking paraphernalia or books. *The guy is adorable* she thought. *Even at his ... least farsighted ... moments* (although she suspected at least a bit of that was put on for their amusement). *Even when absolutely _wasted_* She recalled the gang hoisting him out of the tub and putting him to bed after his reacquaintance with the effect of spirituous beverages at the Harem party. Even better was the moment the next morning when he had asked, in the tone of a man who knows he doesn't really want to know this, just exactly how he had gotten into bed the night before. Chris had looked him dead in the eye and said "Fanfic Fairies. They owed us one" It wouldn't have worked with a vampire Nick, but the new Nick just closed his eyes and nodded slightly, very slightly, in deference to the pounding in his head. She let her own head fall back to bang gently against the bricks a few times just to see if it would shake loose an idea or two. And maybe it did, considering she suddenly remembered the taped-together scraps that Nancy had given her. *The PTD coupon! Redeemable for the Personal Tranquility Device of your choice.* Well she couldn't think of anything that would make her more tranquil right now than some answers to all of this. Except anesthesia, and she didn't have time for that. She pulled out the bedraggled thing and clutched it fiercely. "I wish" she began and instantaneously there was a {{pop}}ing sound and a glowing bit of iridescence sprang into view. {{yes?}} it said peevishly. The Knightie Co-Leader contemplated this new arrival, thinking: 1) it looked pretty dingy for a fairy even in Wartime; 2) she was pretty close to loosing her temper or she wouldn't _need_ a Personal Tranquility Device; 3) and she wasn't taking any from a non-corporeal being, she got enough of it from the Knighties. "Are you sure you're up to this?" she asked noticing it beginning to flicker like a flashlight with a bad connection. {{Look, lady, I'm a substitute. The A team is all tied up with people who got their request in a timely fashion.}} it sighed. {{And just look at that coupon, what did you do? Run it through the washer by mistake? You're lucky if we honour it at all!}} "All right, all right!" she said hastily, feeling a little guilty about that herself, as well as a little silly for conversing with a fairy, a creature she did not normally believe in. "What I want is ..." she stopped to think about just how to phrase this. {{???}}it said with exaggerated patience. "What would really make me happy is some answers" she finally said. ******************************************** Finis From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:50 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kurj-0003XR-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:38:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9341; Sat, 28 Aug 99 22:36:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8271; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:36:28 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:35:36 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 03/? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c5fa7125b591e000f6ee7581e3799abe NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 03/? by Patt Elmore When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Patt scooted back to the bar, quickly placing an order for a bottle of Rye. Vachon and the Vaqs remained at their former standing positions, but Pectin was nowhere to be seen. "He went around the corner," Vachon said, as if reading the former addict's mind. "What do you see in him anyway?" "Aside from physical attributes and his Mountieness, not much," Patt said. "But, those are sufficient to please me." She reached for the bottle of Rye, but Vachon grasped her hand. "What's with everyone grabbing me?" Patt whined. "Just wanted to make sure you stuck to the plot line," Vachon said. He pushed a chilled Bud longneck toward her. "Take this." "Why?" Patt's eyebrows shot up in question and unexplainable fear. "So you can demonstrate how much ya love me," the Spaniard replied. He looked over toward where LaCroix sat motionless, then back to Patt. "I want a demo of the moves that made you famous. Hit the old man." Patt was suddenly too terrified to move. "Wha . . . what did you say?" "Hit the old man," Vachon repeated softly. "Hit him, hit him," the Vaqs began to chant. "Loyalty test time again, Vaquera Patricia. Show me that you're a true Slacker." Vachon smiled. His fingers edged the longneck closer. Patt stared at the bottle. She didn't move, didn't breathe. The left side entrance door opened, allowing two women to enter the darkened bar. "Wonder what FoDs are doing here?" Rae of the Vaqs asked casually of her compadres. "Checking out the competition?" Echo guessed, looking around the dingy place. "This place sure beats Souvlaki on a Stick, don't it?" The other Vaqs laughed raunchily as Kathy and Cindy of the Schanke faction walked by. The two FoDs glanced at the Vaqs, but didn't acknowledge their taunt. They appeared to be two women on a mission, with no time for slacking. It was at this opportune moment that Alfred Pectin made his reappearance. Before Patt could move, the FoDs shifted to an interception course, stopping in front of the tax administrator. Pectin blinked at the women in surprise. "Might I help you ladies?" "Mr. Pectin," Kathy began, her voice very serious, "we need to talk." "In what regard?" Pectin appeared nervous. "In regards to this." Cindy whipped out an invoice and presented it to the tax man. "This is our bill for catering the Saint Dionysious Anniversary Party." Pectin was now quite perplexed. "I had nothing to do with this, young ladies, and if you were advised of such, you were given false information." Now it was the FoDs' turn to look confused. "But Dion, Don's cousin-in-law, told us you would pay the bill from Revenue petty cash," Cindy said. "We need that money to pay off our credit cards," Kathy added. "Don't try to stiff us, or we'll have you arrested," Cindy warned, her bewilderment now giving way to anger. "We have that power, you know." "Yeah!" Kathy nodded. "We don't just make sandwiches anymore!" "This looks interesting," Vachon leaned over, and whispered into Patt's ear. "Wonder why ole Pectin is sweating like that? Makes you wonder, doesn't it?" "Just a misunderstanding concerning who would handle the bill," Patt replied, glad that her orders to clobber LaCroix seemed to be on hold for the moment. "Think so?" Vachon looked at the ex-addict, his grin really irritating her now. "Did you miss reading a post or two?" "I've *delayed* reading a couple hundred," Patt confessed. "I do have a real life, you know . . . not to mention a hell-of-a- writing schedule." "Can't believe you haven't kept up with the GHP stuff, though." Vachon took a drink from the tequila he was sipping. "Especially after the hell she put NA through last year." "What the heck has Laurie MercBard got to do with this?" Patt demanded. That irritating grin again. The Spaniard winked, and returned his attention to the FoD/Pectin drama. "Ladies, I assure you. If my department is responsible for this bill, it will be paid." Pectin and the FoDs had moved to one of the tables, where he was trying his best to placate the escalating anger of the Schanke-faction women. The right door opened and closed. Pectin looked up, catching sight of the newcomer, relief washing over his face. "In fact, we'll discuss the situation with my benefactor right now." The new arrival obviously wanted her identity to remain unknown. It was the usual disguise: cloak, sunglasses, wig, floppy hat, etc. Despite the garb, she was easily distinguishable as a female. The stranger looked around the room, noted the occupants and appeared ready to bolt. Instead, this pause to survey gave Pectin opportunity to reach her. The taxman grabbed hold of her arm with a quick, "I'm so glad you finally got here." The woman slapped at Pectin's hold. "I thought you told me this was a private place! This bar is crawling, literally, with FoDs, Vaquerra/os and . . ." her eyes fell on Patt's leather and spandex clad form . . . "an *addict*?" "This establishment is usually quite vacant," Pectin nodded, obviously fearful that he had raised this person's ire. "Let's go sit down, transact our business quickly, then you can slip away as you came." Grumbling, the woman allowed Pectin to escort her. When she saw he was headed toward the table occupied by Cindy and Kathy, she balked. "Private!" she hissed at the taxman. "I must implore you to pay these women," Pectin pleaded. "It appears that promises were made, and they've come to fetch $401.19." The red-wigged woman pulled back, glanced toward the FoDs, then back to Pectin. "No shit? They're coercing you?" She suddenly smiled, her face bright and evil. "There might be more to their little faction than I ever gave them credit for." "The bill?" Pectin implored. "Being in your employ has caused undue stress in my life, Ms. . . ." the woman gave the tax administrator a warning glare, just in time for him to bite his tongue and not mention her name. "Please," he said. "Just settle their account, and deduct it from our transaction this month." "Low on cash?" the woman said, suddenly understanding. Pectin nodded. "I got into a craps game at the party on Tuesday night," he confessed. "Some short chap, name of Edgar, I believe, took everything I had. I've been scrounging tea biscuits out of the office kitchen, just to survive." The woman shook her head and pulled a handful of bills out of her bag. "Pay them, and then tell them to get lost." "Recognize her yet?" Vachon had edged even closer to Patt, his voice hushed with conspiracy. The mature Vaq/addict shook her head, still studying the woman. "Should I? None of my friends have that much cash in their purses." "They would, if they were using other folks' money," Vachon replied, this time glancing in the direction of LaCroix. Who was, naturally, now staring at the disguised woman with a growing look of recognition in his eyes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 03/? patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kv0H-0002Rx-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:47:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9367; Sat, 28 Aug 99 22:45:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8677; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:45:20 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:29:27 -0700 Reply-To: knightfawkes@JUNO.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Mindy D Subject: War: Knighties: Nick and Zoe's Cooking Adventure (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0781615ab660044860613b0fb5d754c0 Nick and Zoe's Cooking Adventure By Knightie Katrinka Time: 4:30 am Monday Aug 23, 1999 Nick and the Knighties used with Permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sleep in the kitchen, it seemed like a good idea to the cook. No one would come in here, and bother her. Which meant that she had more room to sleep. The first thing that hit her was the welcoming smell of coffee. Ambrosia, food of the gods. Anyway you put it, coffee was a food group in K atrinka's mind. She would have some after she had some sleep. It was the perfect plan, that is until Katrinka woke to the sound of Nick in conspiracy with someone else. "How easy can eggs be?" Nick asked. "Are you sure we can cook this without her?" There was hesitancy in Zoe's voice. "I don't cook anymore, remember?" "I am not asking you to cook. I'm asking you to be my assistant. I will be the chef." "Okay, then if we make anything explosive we can give it to the Vaqs!" "Or Schanke, he'll eat anything!" Nick snorted with laughter. "What a tummy ache he'll get!" //I'm awake!// Katrinka got out of her sleeping bag. "What is going on?" "Told you it would work!" Nick smiled smugly. Katrinka glared at the two smiling people in a way that only a caffeine addict without her method of choice would glare. She felt her way to the coffee pot, and poured herself a cup. She took a large gulp of the brew. "Have you seen my glasses?" "Oh no! She's lost them again!" Zoe groaned. "That isn't funny!" Nick pressed her glasses case into her hand. "Here you go." "Thanks Nick." Katrinka put the glasses on, then took another sip of the coffee. "Wow! This is great! Who made it?" "I did. Still think I'm a terrible cook?" Nick grinned. "How did you do this?" "I watched you every morning making coffee. So I made it just like you did." "You have a photographic memory, don't you?" Katrinka guessed. "Of course I do. How else do you think I can have all those flashbacks?" Nick put a hand on the cook's shoulder. "You relax this morning. I'll make breakfast. Don't worry. I've watched everything you did." Katrinka eyed Zoe warily. "Is she going to help?" "Do you have a problem with that?" "Yes, I do!" "Well, to tell you the truth. All Zoe will do is get ingredients out for me-nothing more." Nick looked into the cook's eyes. She found herself melting. "I promise!" "Okay, this time!" Katrinka let herself be lead into the living room. ********************** An hour later, Nick began to hit a pan with a serving spoon. Grumpy Knighties began to wake. Gemsong threw a pellow towards the kitchen, and went back to sleep. Eowyn looked up to Nick. "Do you know what time it is?" "5:30!" he said perkily. "Come have some breakfast." "Katrinka doesn't usually cook this early." "Well, I talked her into it." Nick gave his winning smile. He helped Eowyn sit down, and set a plate in front of her. She took a tentative bite. "This is good!" "Come eat, Katrinka." Nick beckoned. Katrinka sat, and was served a plate of eggs, bacon, and sausage. She too took a taste. She was amazed by the sensation that went off in her mouth. "Very good." There was the sound of a timer going off. Zoe ran to the oven, and took out a sheet of bisects. She gasped, and the pan and biscuits clattered on the floor. Then there was a loud bang! As a hole was blown in front of the oven. Zoe began to sob. "I can't believe this happened again!" "It's okay." Nick tried to soothe. But Zoe ran upstairs. As one, Katrinka and Eowyn pushed their plates away. Nick noticed. "It's all right. The foods edible." "If you didn't notice, there is a *very* large hole in your kitchen floor." Eowyn pointed out. "I don't make explosive biscuits," Katrinka reminded him. "Well, I didn't think Zoe could hurt biscuits. How did I know that she could make those explosive too?" Nick put on a way too innocent look. "I still don't trust the food." Eowyn muttered. "Don't worry, it won't go to waste!" Nick grabbed her plate and began to eat her breakfast with gusto! "Can I have your breakfast Kat?" "NO!" Katrinka took her plate into the kitchen. She began to wonder if Nick needed to go on a diet! ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kv7H-0003yY-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:54:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6125; Sat, 28 Aug 99 22:52:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8967; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:52:33 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:00:10 -0800 Reply-To: Tiff Petherbridge Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tiff Petherbridge Subject: War: NA: "A Call to Ar--Attorney" (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 34a094c273f95373e4026ba0a6f88159 NA: "A Call to Ar--Attorney" (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: Tuesday night, August 24 Place: The Shrine Permissions: Given by all those mentioned. ************************* Tiffiney sat on her bed, reading a book. The Toenotes had finallyleft her alone for the day. They kept apologizing for what hadhappened during Conversion Day. Tiff was quite sick of it. She knew that they didn't mean it, and they would receive their punishment soon enough. Until they time came, all she wanted was for them to leave her alone for more than five minutes. She commanded that they go and help whatever finishing touches GROUT were making on the shrine. "Ouch!" She heard a man scream from outside her room. Suddenly, three of the Toenotes burst into her bedroom door. "God, don't you guys ever knock?" she asked sarcastically. Without a word they exited, shutting the door. A moment later, a knock. *Bang* *Bang* *Bang* *Bang* "Come in." The three Toenotes entered. "We like, have something to tell you," Daryl stated. "For sure," Chip and Trevor agreed, in unison. Another moment passed in silence. Tiff was wondering what they were waiting for. "Well?" "Oh!" Daryl responded. "Uh, we have to be in court for our thing tomorrow." "What?!?" Tiff asked, not expecting that. "Wait, they never set a trial date. How can it be tomorrow?" "Uh, one of the construction dudes, like told us," Daryl answered. "They contacted us last week about it," Trevor concluded. Tiff was very worried. She was about to go on trial for a crime she didn't commit, and she only had a couple of hours to prepare because the GROUT guys didn't feel the need to tell Tiff that she was being served by the province. Sure, they're willing to give the church's number to her mother, but when the government says, 'Hey, we're going to charge with you a really nasty crime and put you up on trial for it.' Do they think to give them an alternate number? Tiff put down her book and headed downstairs in her pajamas. She didn't care how she looked. She needed to find an addict willing to play lawyer for a while. ************************* To be continued in "Law & Order, this Ain't." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Get your free Canadian email address at http://mail.webcity.ca/ powered by OutBlaze From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KvHO-0002wh-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:05:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6303; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:02:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0913; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:02:55 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:04:45 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole (04/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1f61db93bd08e56733772d408bde8c26 WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole (04/?) by Patt Elmore When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pectin, a relieved look on his face, left the woman's side and returned to the table occupied by Kathy and Cindy. Once he left, the stranger began cautiously examining the room again. Her glance quickly swept past the Vaqs and the lounging Javier Vachon, with a cursory stare at the oddly dressed Addict. The woman's eyes continued to sweep the area, past the bar, past the ring of tables and on to the booth area which she hadn't had time to examine before her Pectin's original accosting. That's when she saw him. And worse . . . when she noticed that he had seen her. The word was not spoken, but it hung in the air like toxic fumes. LaCroix nodded, satisfied that his feeling of recognition had not been unfounded. Noting that he had the stranger's attention, he crooked a finger, indicating that she should approach. The woman hesitated. This was not in her script . . . not in her plans. She continued to stare at LaCroix. His hand action changed, this time the rubbing together of thumb and three fingers--the universal language of money exchange. "Damn!" she said softly. "Thank you ever so much, Ms. . . . Jones," Pectin smiled, walking back up to the stranger and offering her change. "The ladies appear to be quite satisfied now." "Oh, do they?! How bloody nice to hear it!!" The Grand High Poobah of the Mercenary Guild swept the awful fedora off her head and began beating Pectin over the head with it. Noting that this action was garnering her certain unwanted attention, she slammed the hat back on her head and stomped off in LaCroix's direction. "Recognize her now?" Vachon looked toward the still clueless Patt. The Vaq/Addict gave him a blank look. "Is it Bons?" The Spaniard finished his drink in one gulp, and held up three fingers to the bartender. "Jules?" Patt blinked innocently. Vachon sighed and turned to the barman again, indicating with gestures that he needed the entire bottle. "An . . ." "IT'S THE GRAND HIGH POOBAH!!" everyone in the bar shouted. Laurie turned, gave everyone a stiff curtsey, then slipped into the booth with LaCroix. "Ahhh, Laurie." LaCroix smiled at the obviously uncomfortable woman. "Your resourcefulness surprises even me, though I'm pleased that you sought me out to offer your latest report on the tapestry retrieval. By the way . . . nice hat." The GHP, who had been prepared for a little twisting in the wind, suddenly sensed an upper hand. Nothing like cliches to make a girl feel comfy again. Laurie leaned back, smiling. "You saw the flyers, I take it?" "Flyers, e-mail, bulletin board notices, newspaper announcements, etc., etc. Quite a bit of work in a very short time, I must admit." Laurie swelled up a bit, feeling pretty proud. "You expected anything less from the Mercenary Guild? I'm crushed." "So," LaCroix continued, "when may I expect the return of my property?" Laurie gulped. Just a little gulp. No blanching or panic, just a tiny little catch in her throat. LaCroix, not appearing to notice, waited. "Soon." Laurie feigned confidence and leaned slightly toward LaCroix. "I still have to tie up a few loose threads." LaCroix smiled. "I shall anxiously await the completion of your assigned task . . . and, I will expect a full, audited report of any expenditures you make on my behalf." At his use of the word 'auditor', Laurie's ears began to burn. She wanted very much to turn and check on Pectin, but she didn't dare. Mercs dare not tip their hand or look less than perfect. "What are you drinking?" Laurie asked casually, hoping the change in subject would offer her some breathing space. "I *was* drinking Rye," LaCroix said dryly. He looked toward the bar. "Ms. Elmore went to get us another bottle, but has failed to return." "I think she's been cornered by the pesky Spaniard," Laurie observed, also looking toward where Patt stood watching them. The GHP looked back at LaCroix. "What is with her and the Biker garb?" LaCroix's eyebrow shifted upward. "You have the nerve to ask about *her* choice in attire?" Laurie stood up and quickly shed herself of the baggy coat, studded sunglasses and officious hat. She reseated herself and looked square at the ex-vampire. "Better?" "I wasn't complaining." LaCroix smiled his most snake-like. "I was just observing." The left door opened and closed again. Two women entered the room. "Damn, this cast of characters is getting absolutely ridiculous," Laurie spat, much to the General's amusement. "By the time the wordy broad gets to the fighting, there will be six opening posts." "I think she'll be able to do it in five," LaCroix announced. Laurie gave him a quick look. "Bet?" LaCroix extended his hand. "Done." They both turned back to watch the newcomers wander into the room. "That's McLisa and Cousine Celeste!" Patt whispered to Vachon. "I wonder what they're doing in a place like this?" "One of three reasons," Vachon announced. He ticked off the possibilities with extended fingers. "One, they're slumming; two, they're here looking for LaCroix; or three, they volunteered for the bar fight, and this was the best way you could write them arriving without going back and reading all their posts." Patt grinned at the Spaniard sheepishly, then frowned. "What if I buy you your own Micron? Would you move out then?" "Nope," Vachon shot that irritating grin at the woman again. "I'd get lonely." McLisa and Celeste took a table near the jukebox. Celeste scrounged in her purse, produced a few coins and walked over to the machine. "Is McLisa a cat this time?" Patt asked quickly. "Not sure," Vachon shrugged. "But, if she is, Zombie Beachcombers correct the condition, remember?" "Yeah!" Patt turned to the bartender. "A pitcher of ZB for the ListMommy, por favor, quick like." The man nodded and headed for the blender. "Who else yet to come?" Vachon queried. "Just some more Addicts, I think," Patt replied, closing her eyes and trying to mentally visualize her notes. The right door opened and closed. Four male characters entered--three hulking and one rather short and stumpy. "Oops, didn't expect them," Patt shuddered. She pressed closer to the bar, using Vachon to block the newcomers' view to her. Kriel, accompanied by Spark, Luke and Sapo, glanced around the room, his eyes falling on LaCroix and his female companion. The ex-vampire foreman grinned lasciviously. "Looks like the boss has some action tonight. I probably shouldn't go bother him, but I know he's waiting for the progress report. You guys wait here." The large GROUTer started across the open bar floor space. As he did, Patt's cowering shape entered his vision range. He turned and glared at the woman. "YOU!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 04/? patt79ad@juno.com From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KvI5-0004Lf-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:05:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7573; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:03:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0945; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:03:46 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:05:33 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole (05/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 954a5f05eed83f34b24802af0d984ea4 WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole (05/?) by Patt Elmore When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As Kriel stared at her with death threats evident in his eyes, Patt slipped her arms around the Spaniard and hugged him tightly. "Remember, I'm yours to protect and defend." Vachon looked down at her, bemused. "Oh, really?" The Addict/Vaq looked up and blinked furiously. "Really!" Vachon looked back toward the bar counter, the now lukewarm beer bottle sitting there, untouched. Patt looked, also, then turned back to face the Spaniard. He shrugged and gently pushed the ex-Addict away. "Truth time," the dark-haired former vampire said meaningfully. Patt looked at the bottle again, then toward LaCroix, then Vachon, then back to the bottle. Her hand darted out with quick precision, grabbing the container and quaffing the contents in three chugs. Patt rendered a most sour expression, then hefted the bottle, testing its weapon viability. "She's gonna do it?" Melissa said incredulously from the Vaq corner. "I didn't think she had the nerve." "Maybe she is Vaq material," Cliff added. "I doubt it," Rae remarked, her voice almost a growl. "I know the chick, and she's just too damn loyal to LaCroix." "Yet, she has a beer bottle in her hand, ready to take aim," Teresita pointed out. "Something a Louisianan don't do unless they mean business," Felicia said. "Shut up and let's watch the fun," Tracy Sue said, motioning for quiet. "Celebrity Death Match--LaCroix versus Elmore and her brown bottle." "No CROSSOVERS!" the folk in the bar hissed. "So, sue me," Tracy Sue replied, downing her own drink. "I'm on a trip with my honey and could care less." The room grew quiet. Kriel, still looking intent on crushing the mature one, advanced two steps toward her, before Spark stepped in his way. "I have an older score to settle with her than you do," the stylish-one said. "But, we have business to conduct first, and pleasure to entertain later. She's under the elder's protection, remember? To kill her now, in front of him, would be blatant subversion. Go speak with LaCroix, get our money and *then* we'll destroy her." Kriel looked at the welder, then placed his hand on the other's shoulder. "Good advice, crew member. I'll go see to business first. You," he looked toward Patt once again, "keep an eye on *that* one." "It will be painful to my vision," Spark replied, "but I'll do it." He turned and offered Patt a chilling smile. Patt thought sadly, looking around at the expectant faces. The left and right doors opened, and stayed open for quite awhile as the NA Addicts began tumbling in. LaCroix extended his hand in the Poobah's direction. "My winnings, please." Grumbling, Laurie placed the anatomically correct NickPop into his palm. "Patt! We've been looking all over for you and Heather!!" The Addicts shouted, surging into the room. They paused, however, when they took note of Patt's clothing. The Addicts looked at Vachon, who looked back and blinked. "Anything you'd care to explain?" Ary asked. "And, what's with the beer bottle?" Tiff said accusingly. "You said *I* couldn't hit him, so why should you be able to?" "Because it's my running gag," Patt pouted. "And, I like leather." "Enough, already!!" the GHP stood up, her rage evident. "I'm getting tired of reading lead-ups and filler. I've also been divested of my food allowance. Let's get this thing going, okay? Some of us have other plots to resolve." The room grew quiet. Then, the jukebox cranked up with an old Righteous Brothers tune. "Oh, GAWD!" Laurie MercBard abandoned her polite banter with LaCroix and stood up, glaring at everyone. "We're not going to stoop to that tired old plot device where we quote a song which kindles Forever Knight thoughts, are we?" No one replied. Only the soft strains of Unchained Melody lilted through the air. "I can't even filk to that," Laurie complained. "I need a drink." She stomped toward the bar. Leaving LaCroix seated alone. He looked at Patt. He saw the beer bottle in her hand, and lifted his eyes to hers, that wonderful eyebrow arched in question. Patt, her mind clouded with the song's words of "needing love" and "hungering for touch," stood there stupidly. "Now or never," Vachon whispered. "He'll never be mortal again, you know. You'll never have this opportunity again in your life. Like the WarLord said . . . equal footing to get even for all the injustices he's perpetrated on you for two years." "But . . . but . . ." Patt, her eyes still glazed, tried to respond, but couldn't. Vachon moved behind her and gave her a little push toward Uncle. Momentum established, Patt started across the room. ~~~I need your love~~~~~ LaCroix, watching her approach, rose ~~~I need your love~~~~~ >From the bar, Laurie groaned and slammed back a ____________. ~~~God speed your love . . .~~~~~ The ex-vampire and ex-Addict were within an arm's length of each other. Patt stopped, robot-like in movement. ~~~ . . . to me.~~~~~ "Hit me with your best shot!" Egrus Toga chirped. And Patt swung. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued part 05/? patt79ad@juno.com From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KvMZ-0002r5-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:10:36 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7615; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:08:26 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1412; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:08:26 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:15:32 -0800 Reply-To: Tiff Petherbridge Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tiff Petherbridge Subject: War: NA: "Law & Order, This Ain't" (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 07f6088aef44c13739cb4bbd8bacb12f NA: "Law & Order, This Ain't" (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff Time and Date: Wednesday Morning after "A Call to Ar--Attorney" Place: District Court of Toronto Permissions: Given by all those mentioned. ************************* It was early in the morning... couldn't have been later than 9 in the A.M.... Okay so it was well into the morning, but for Evil Cousin Tiff it was pretty darn early by her standards. The court room was almost empty. Only one or two people, the courtroom artist (draws all those pictures for the news) and a woman Tiff thought wasfamiliar, but could not put a name to, were seated in the courtroom.> Oh, well. No matter. That was not of any importance now. Tiff had more important things to worry about. Like her possible future as a person with thea felon in her history with a felony record. She needed that fixed. It seemed as though Bons was the only person willing to helpher. Tiff couldn't find Patt anywhere the night before this morning, so the NA scribe had volunteered to take her place. They sat in the court room. The familiar looking woman, spotting their party, had ducked behind a bench. Tiff noted there was no sign of Cousin Mary, Shana, Tracy or the tapestry. Quickly the bailiff entered the courtroom. "All rise. District Court for the City of Toronto is now in session. The honorable Judge Hooper, presiding." The bailiff stated. "Be seated." The judge stated. They all sat. "Case number 51280. Ontario vs. Petherbridge, Granite, Whiteside, and Whiteside. Grand Larceny and Aidding and Abetting grand larceny--," the clerk announced. The judge interrupted the clerk. "Wait." She said. "Can I ask where the prosecuting party is in this case?" "They appear not to be present, your honor," Bons answered, standing up and then sitting back down again. The judge got a very annoyed look on her face. "Well, if the prosecuting party feels no need to be here to prosecute, I see no need for these charges. They're dropped." She banged on the gabble and walked out of the courtroom, seemingly very angry. Tiff and Bons looked at each other. "I guess that's it," Bons stated. "Really?" Tiff said with a sigh. "What were you expecting it to be like, Perry Mason or something?" "No, Law & Order." "Oh... well, let's go." Suddenly Bons felt a hand at the back of her neck. "What's that?" Chad asked from behind her. "Don't touch that!" Bons said whipping around smacking his hand. "Okay, okay." Chad backed off. They packed up all their paperwork and headed back to the Jeweled Peach for some much deserved caffienated beverages, and chocolate. --------------- The GHP watched Tiff's group depart the courtroom, satisfied witht he disposition of the case, and the fact that Bons had not noticed her. The Mercs monitored all court proceedings, and when Mildred had mentioned the upcoming case, Laurie had made plans to attend. Now that LaCroix had hired her to deal with the DP and the tapestry,*anything* to do with the matter was of interest to her. Clearly, the young newbie Addict had not stolen the tapestry, and the Poobah had not expected the true perpetrators to show up in court. And if they had shown, they would have found the Judge in the GHP's back pocket, and Tiff would still have been released. Getting an Addict out of the clink would have been a perfect step in Laurie's plot to take over NA. But she could still find a way to turn this toher advantage, she was sure. "Aha! Got it! No one knows why the DP didn't show up. I'll just tell LC it was my doing and double my fee." Smiling, the GHP exited thecourtroom. ************************* -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Get your free Canadian email address at http://mail.webcity.ca/ powered by OutBlaze From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KvMi-0004Sg-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:10:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9614; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:08:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1426; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:08:29 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:11:53 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack - A Little Applied Psychology To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c96361d6473424c8746091a99ae5a10a I'm posting this for Rogue Cousin Tammy who's having difficulty posting. - - - - War: N&NPack: A Little Applied Psychology By Rogue Cousin Tammy When: Sometime Saturday afternoon. Where: N&N HQ ------------------ Tammy organized the meeting of the darker members of the Nick and Natpack in her chosen headquarters of the prop room. "Ladies, from what Laila has conveyed to us," she nodded in respect to her dark sister. "It is now known to us that Nick - no matter what his decision is, he will be returning to his former state." There was a bunch of murmurs that threatened to creep out the prop room door. "While this is good news , we must ensure that we return the pieces of the object that are in our possession to Nick and the Knighties... All of the pieces. Luckily at least two of those pieces are in the Dark Nick and Natpackers hands now." She nodded to Angela who held the wand tightly in her hand. "However we are going to have to convince the rest of the pack to turn their piece over as well." Marci looked concerned, "Susan is going to be a stickler on this one... She likes LaCroix mortal. She likes to see him taking it in the teeth." "While I love our lighter sister Susan, dearly, we are going to have to come up with a way to convince them to hand over the object." Tammy sighed. While misdirection was the chosen form of deception for a Cousin and Uncle himself, she disliked using it on her N&Npack family. "They will have to continue to believe that Nick will remain mortal only IF he reassembles the object." "How do you suggest we do that?" Stephanie asked, curious to see what the Rogue Cousin would come up with. "A little applied psychology..." Tammy smiled malevolently, then her face became thoughtful. "We should also prepare for the consequences. Marci, I need you to round up every romantic, soulful movie you can lay your hands on... Princess Bride... Romancing the Stone... Ladyhawke... Wendy, hit the convenience stores... We're going to need chocolate and lots of it. Don't let them," Tammy motioned to the door, "see you bringing it back though. Don't want to tip them off!" --------------------- Tammy and Angela approached Soul and Susan with very serious looks on their faces. "Soul, we need to talk to you." Angela spoke first, while the Rogue Cousin maintained a mask of cold indifference. "Sure... Shoot!" Soul was curious and slightly worried. Neither of the N&Npackers looked happy. "We've decided that we can't return the objects to Nick." Angela continued. The shocked looks on both Soul and Susan's face screamed their distress. "We're Dark N&Npackers and we want Nick to bring Natalie across and maybe if he becomes a vampire again and none of the other ex-vampires come back across. Well, maybe he'll be lonely enough to -do the deed-!" Soul took a few moments to gather herself, "He might just be lonely enough to walk into the SUN!" Tammy arched an eyebrow, "A calculated risk." "I thought you didn't care HOW they got together, as long as they did!" Susan glared at the Dark N&Npacker. "After careful thought and consideration, I have decided that an opportunity like this does not come up every War. When it does, one must pounce. My leanings have always been much darker than light, he MUST accept who he is and what he has done. Mortality will not cleanse Nick of the guilt that he feels, so what is the point." Tammy stood stalk still, emulating the master of manipulation. "And you're going along with this?" Soul asked Angela. Angela nodded, "If he's mortal, the story ends. They win. I don't want the story to end." "What about LaCroix... If you do this Tammy, he remains mortal..." Susan grinned. This would be the chink in her dark sister's armour. "Oh, the mileage I can get out of that... The -Bogus Master-!" Tammy's visage didn't even flinch, "Sacrifices must be made. LaCroix would agree. Besides he will find another way back. He is quite able to take care of himself." Soul searched the Rogue Cousin's face, searching for a way to convince her. Then it dawned on the leader like the sunrise at the end of Last Knight. "What about Nat? Do you think she'd approve of your methods? You would be taking the choice away from all those ex-vampires. They chose to be what they are, you aren't even going to allow them a chance. The chance that Nick will change them all back. What did Nat say, 'I don't have the right to make those kind of decisions'" "She doesn't approve of my beliefs, why should I care if she approves of my methods." Tammy allowed her voice to crumble a little. Soul realized Tammy was referring to what Natalie had said to her the previous night. "Forget Nat... What about Tasha?" Susan jumped on this path, remembering that Tammy still carried the rose that her dopple character had given her. "Would she approve? She found a way to convince her Nick, why wouldn't our Nat. I think she'd feel that you didn't think as much of her... Nat... Them... Whatever." Tammy almost growled at the leaders. Then she spoke to Angela, "They're right." Then she turned her attention back to Soul, "Promise me you won't give Nick a push in any direction... It must be his choice." Soul nodded. Tammy held out her object to Soul who took it, gratefully. Angela looked stricken, but then handed over the element with some hesitation. "I don't want it to end." "Perhaps it will, perhaps it won't..." Tammy said thoughtfully, "Just remember Ang... All good things must come to an end." The hair on the back of Soul and Susan's neck stood on end at that moment. Something picked at the back of their minds, but they brushed it away. "Let's get these pieces back to the Knighties and Nick... Post haste..." Soul looked thoughtful. "Tammy, would you like to come, just to be certain that we don't push in either direction." Tammy nodded, "That would be appreciated." Soul and Susan set to the task of gathering the others for the return. ------------------ Comments to tabby_katt@technowizards.net From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KvPm-0003Bm-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:13:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9623; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:11:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1536; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:11:39 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:15:35 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack - Point of No Return To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 859b7188164c378b27043b6918c70572 I'm posting this for Rogue Cousin Tammy who's having difficult posting. - - - - - War: N&NPack - Point of No Return By Rogue Cousin Tammy Place: Nick's Loft Time: After "A Little Applied Psychology" Under Knighties general permission for Eowyn to accept elements ------------------ The Nick and Natpack approached the loft with some trepidation. While there were some idealogical differences in what they wanted to see happen, the N&Npack had decided to return the objects to the Knighties and Nick, and let Nick sort out his own fate. Leaving Susan and Kevin to hold down the fort at the theatre, Soul led a band of other faithful to Nick's fortress of solitude. "I wonder if anyone is here to recieve the pieces," Amanda wondered aloud. "There should be, " Cheryl said, "I mean, they do know he needs the pieces, right?" Tammy silently shrugged. Soul smiled at the Rogue Cousin, "You did the right thing!" Soul turned her attention to Monique, "Will you do the honours?" The Nut bounded to the security monitor and buzzed, a female voice answered, "Who is it? We're kind of ... busy ... up here right now." "It's the Nick and Natpack. We've come to turn over the elements to the Galen Cube." Monique said with a happy lilt to her voice. "Uh, sure... Be right down!" The Knightie responded. A few moments later a young woman appeared, "Hi, I'm Eowyn... I'll take the pieces." Soul handed over the necklace, wand and the piece from the FODs. "Couldn't we see, Nick?" Amanda asked curiously, dying to get inside the loft. "Uh, he's having an emotional crisis at the moment... So not really..." Eowyn said regretfully. "We understand. Tell Nick we're routing for him," Soul said as she started to herd the N&Npackers away from the loft. "Emotional crisis... When is Nick -not- having an emotional crisis?" Monique asked sounding annoyed. Carrie glared at her for maligning the blond vampire. Tammy stopped for a moment, then turned to the Knightie, breaking the silence that she had held from the time they had left the theatre, "He will make the right choice." It was a statement, not a question. Then she rejoined her faction members. -------------------------- Comments to tabby_katt@technowizards.net From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KvVD-0000Sf-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:19:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7643; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:17:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1770; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:17:21 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:19:57 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Independent/CGW/NA: "'Dunbar' Wallace" Strikes Again To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8b3bd1a660992db75a111ca030886445 WAR: Independent/CGW/NA: "'Dunbar' Wallace" Strikes Again By Brenda Bell FOLLOWS: NA: Oh Where, Oh Where Did the MacCousin Go? (1/1) NA/Enforcement/CGW: A Flash in the Night Independent/CGW: Desperately Seeking Scotswoman Pen, Chris, Heather, and Lucius are real and are used by permission. Deirdre, Father Andrew, and Ronnie O'Mannion are fictional and belong to the Fiendish Glow. **************************** In the fantastic land of the Faer, unknown time, unknown place... If rats came in human sizes, he could have been mistaken for one. Not that he would have realized it, of course -- nobody ever realizes when he or she is dressed ridiculously, unless it's done on purpose. This wasn't done on purpose. Actually, it was done on purpose -- but not the purpose of looking like an oversized super-rat carrying an oversized tartan backpack. On the other hand, the strangely-dressed folk in Faery-Land did tend to give him the large amount of personal space that his hero status demanded, and never once questioned that there was something kicking and screaming in his pack. And so it was that William "Dunbar" Wallace had saved this woman of his dreams from the evil Longfangs, King Nunkward the Vampst. And aided by Father Andrew, who married them in secret, they hid just outside the realm of King Nunkward and his army of Secret Sheriffs -- so-called because of their Sheriffmuir-styled livery(1) -- who were tasked with the recovery and return of all fugitive Addicts sworn, many against their wills, to serve King Nunkward all of their days. Now that King Nunkward had been driven back by the mortalness spelled upon him by other enemies, Dunbar Wallace was returning to Toronto in secret, with the wife he had won according to all ancient traditions. He would not need to keep secret much longer. After a fortnight of trials and travels, the Faer Folk had finally granted him the boon of passage through their kingdom and an audience with their monarch, Queen Mab. He furrowed his brow pensively, wondering why he could remember nothing of that evening other than her strangely-lit sceptre. Must've been something in the heather beer... the next thing he remembered, he was crawling through a maze of tunnels with his prize on his back. "An' ye shall know it by its fiendish glow," the passage had said. As he reached the end of the tunnel a door slid open magically, and a sign stood before him, proclaiming boldly that this was the site of the Fiendish Glow. Still carrying his tartan sack, Dunbar Wallace walked through the doors and into the appointed location. "I am Dunbar of Wallace," he cried, setting down his sack and drawing his claymore, "and I have come to reclaim my place as the lord of this manor!" **************** The Fiendish Glow, Saturday, 28 August, about 1900 Eastern Daylight Time "Pen, Brenda, come quick!" Deirdre panted, having run to the office from the pub's bar. "Should we alert Security?" Pen asked as the two of them locked their computer screens and followed the head waitress back out into the public area. He stood three meters inside the door, wearing only a linen tunic and a large rabbit-fur cloak, brandishing a large stake hefted like a sword, and possessively holding a tartan sack to his side. "I am Dunbar of Wallace!" he cried. The two women looked at the furred creature, looked at each other, and looked back at the creature again. "Chris?" they asked tentatively. "MacHeather?" A noise sounding suspiciously like "mmmmpphffff-hmmfff" came from the tartan bundle. "I am Dunbar of Wallace! and I have come to reclaim my place among the free people of Scotland!" "Um, Chris?" Pen asked. "Are you all right?" "Mmmmmppphffff" came from the wrapped tartan. "Only one way to tell," Brenda said. "Lemme get Lucius. Tell Security to keep an eye out, just in case." "I'm on it, babe," Pen replied as Brenda scurried out of the room. ************** *****FLASHBACK***** Father Andrew's Safehouse, Thursday 26 August, some time in the evening. *Mmnnhpphfff" he mumbled as he rolled over beneath the tartan cover he shared with his new wife. He got an elbow in his side for the effort. "Heather," he sighed, rising onto one elbow, spying at the scrap of red cloth underneath a mass of red ringlets, and remembering the vows they had taken before Father Andrew earlier in the day. *Mmmngfff," he heard as she pulled him back down under the breaccan faile. In less than the time it takes to snore, he was out like a light. ***A few hours later*** * "Heather, my bonnie Heather," he sighed, * * looking at the woman lying beside him. His * * reverie was interrupted by the sound of hooves * * outside the sheiling. * * * * "Open up! Open up! By order of the King!" * * * * "I know nae king, an' ye'll no' enter my cot * * wi'oot me pairmission." * * * * "Then I arrest thee in the name of King Nunkward * * the Vampst, on the charge of refusing entry to * * His Majesty's soldiers, and refusal of their * * rights to your women. * * * * "No' prima nocte!" he shouted, bundling his wife * * in his breaccan faile and forging an entrance * * through the straw covered wall in back. * * * * "In person," a deep, somber voice said, as the * * order was given to advance the cavalry over the * * summer shanty. * * * * The last thing he remembered seeing was Prima * * Nocte himself, wearing a black Sheriffmuir and * * woolen trews. "AAaaauuuuugggghhhhhhhhh!!!!" he * * cried, and then the world went black. * He awoke shaking, shivering, remembering every moment of the terror the English had just foisted upon him. He didn't remember how he got to the place he was at, but it looked solidly built, and the countryside seemed quiet. Then it hit him. Heather. His bonnie wife Heather. Where was she? "Heather? Heather? Where are ye?" "Mmpphhfff?" "Ach, thank Goodness ye're still here. We've go' tae get awa' quickly, afore King Nunkward's army finds oos agin." "Mmnppphhhnnnfff???" "Nae time for sma' talk, noo, we got tae get moovin'." Grabbing the ratty fur cloak hanging on a peg by the door and the shillelagh beside it, and grabbing the breaccan faile with his prize still wrapped within, he took off through the basement and started walking towards the haven that would be known only by its fiendish glow. *****END FLASHBACK***** **************************** It had taken some time, but Brenda finally managed to track down Lucius in his continued explorations of MacHeather's closet, and with the assistance of some yummy fish scraps from the kitchen, explained that she needed his immediate help. Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be carried downstairs into the pub and placed in front of two plaidy-furry-smelly bundles. He nosed his way around the two statues, sensing something vaguely familiar and trying to find out what it was. He heard a muffled "Mmrmphff!" as he pawed and clawed over the bottom of the tartany bundle. He lifted his head to see if perhaps the familiar smell was coming from above him. Suddenly it hit him: Fur Man was carrying a giant pencil!!! *Pencil, pencil! I absolutely _must_ have that giant pencil!* Lucius thought, picking up his pace and choosing an approach path. Finally, he stepped away a bit, turned back around and ran, gathering speed. *UP* he jumped, onto the tartan bundle, which began slipping under his paws. *Claw*, *claw*, he dug in, each time trying to get a bit closer to his goal. Finally, he reached the top of the once-tartan-covered sack and felt something familiar. Hair. Red hair. MacMommy's red hair. He paused a moment, then shook his head, regaining command of his goal: the giant pencil. From Heather's head, he *leapt* up onto Fur Man's shoulders, then his head, then scurried up his arm to grab the giant pencil he held aloft... *************** "I don't know about this," Pen said, watching the cat nose around the Chris look-alike and the tartan sack. "It doesn't look like they're familiar to him at all." "Maybe not," Brenda said as Lucius walked away, "maybe not." Then the cat turned around, ran, and *POUNCED* on the tartan-covered bundle. "Watch out!" the older woman cried as the cat began its slippery climb. "MacHeather!" they cried as the redhead's hair and face were exposed. "Welcome home!" Lucius chose that moment to pounce to the top of "Dunbar Wallace's" upraised stake, destabilizing the man's grip and causing cat, stake, man, woman, and friends to come noisily crashing to the ground, taking out a table and two Breuer chairs in the process. ***************** *CRASH*!!!! The noise could be heard throughout the Fiendish Glow -- and like civilians in a bombing zone, staff and customers alike moved towards the source of the noise. "Shall I tuyke them out?" Ronnie O'Mannion, the bouncer, asked Pen. "Not just yet," she told him. Sheepishly, disoriented, the fur-wrapped bundle lifted its head as a black feline walked across it. "Hello, Lucius," it said, looking at the cat. "I'd like you to meet my wife, MacHeather." The cat turned around, shoved its tail down across the man's face, and started pawing at the tartan beside it. "Here, Kitty, kitty, kitty," said the wrapped bundle of tartan. Lucius ignored the sounds and went straight for the swatch of red fabric hidden in the woman's bosom. "Yeowch!" she screamed, trying to rescue the fabric while keeping the claws away from her glowing pale decolletage. Pen reached down to take the cat away while the woman untangled herself from the mess of tartan she was wrapped in and went over to her fur-clad partner. "Chris?" she asked, slightly shaking the figure beside her. "Chris, sweetie?" "Aarrrggghhh! me head!" he complained, then took a look around him. "The Fiendish Glow?" he asked. "What are we doing here?" "You've brought me back home, remember?" "Aye," he said hesitantly, rising, then catching sight of the red fabric once more safely tucked into her bosom. "It's true, then?" he asked her. She nodded happily. "It's true." Chris Dunbar "Wallace" possessively placed an arm about MacHeather's waist and kissed her lovingly while the crowd watched on, unsure of how to react. "Father Andrew married us Thursday," Chris told the crowd. "I'd like to formally introduce my wife, Heather Poinsett-Dunbar." Over the murmurs and whispers of the crowd, a deep voice could be heard shouting, "Drinks for the House!", while the band switched from Celtic rock to "Mairi's Wedding", and several of the customers and staff started dancing. "Ceilidh(2) time," Brenda and Pen nodded at each other. "You call the other factions, I'll post signs on the doors." "Go upstairs. Shower. Then come back down when you're decent," Pen told the couple as Brenda went off to warn the kitchen and phone the other factions. Meanwhile Lucius, Destroyer of Pens, having captured the giant "pencil", dragged it and the fur cloak into a corner and settled down for a catnap. **********************INVITATION************************ Everyone, please consider yourself and your faction as having been PHONED and INVITED to participate in this Celtic celebration. Food, drink, music, and dancing for all to help celebrate Chris and Heather's fictional wedding, and wish them happiness as they celebrate their real-life wedding in the very near future. Sliante! ******************************************************* NOTES: ***** (1) Sheriffmuir: In "traditional" Highland attire, a Sheriffmuir Coat (jacket) is the equivalent of a tailcoat. The name was used here for its alliteration, not for its accuracy. Livery: Uniforms in the colors and designs of the arms registered to a given House, and worn by the permanently-employed servants and staff. (2) Ceilidh (pronounced "KAY lee"): Celtic party, including lots of drinking, music, dancing, and socializing. Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KvYk-0003SS-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:23:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7710; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:20:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2505; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:20:52 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:25:21 -0600 Reply-To: "K. Astop" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "K. Astop" Subject: WAR: Knighties: Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!" (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ca0a85fce0091d61d6c51f56df96a668 Story Name: Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!" (1/3) Author: Zoe with tons of input from the Beloved Knighties! (Thanks dudes!) Place: The Loft Time/Date: August 21st, 1999 Morning About an hour after, "A Lamanation of Ravens" All Knighties violated, err, I mean, used with permission. No animals or flowers were actually harmed in the making of this story. It was Saturday morning, and the Knighties had taken to relaxing after the previous evening s gathering of puppy piling and gift-giving in celebration of Gem s birthday. Knighties were strewn throughout the insides of the loft. It almost appeared that there was no place untouched by the faction. Some worked at their laptops, surfing the net and emailing home, while others were propped in front of the television, debating lowly about who should have the remote and who adamantly shouldn t. And still, others read, some slept, and some partook in their various hobbies. It was a peaceful time in the loft, the rigors of war almost a memory. That is, until a heart-wrenching screech echoed through the loft. "GET AWAY FROM MY FLOWERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" *CLLLANNG* The shout shook the Knighties from their relaxed stupor. Each set of eyes momentarily raising to the ceiling, in an attempt to gauge the disturbing noise. In another heartbeat, Knighties hopped to their feet and scrambled towards the roof. Zoe frowned from her position, cross-legged beneath the staircase. She had her headphones in and could not for the life of her figure out what her war-mates were up to. She didn t smell smoke, no one was on fire, and Nick wasn t home, so they couldn t be trying to sneak a peek of him in the shower. Besides, this was a PG-13 war. Her frown deepened as a bewildered Stephers ran to her position, her hands waving up and down frantically. Zoe looked up as her fellow Knightie s lips moved at an amazing rate. Zoe shook her head and pointed to her ears. Stephers frowned deeply and reached down and ripped the audio device out of the brunette s ears. "EEEEEEOOOOWWW!" Zoe squealed, "Dude! What did you do that for?!" "I said, we have a problem on the roof, something is going on with Roz!" Zoe s eyes widened. She clamored outta her position, "Could have just said that instead of ripping my ears off, man!" With a glare, Stephers ignored Zoe s whining and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the roof. With staggering speed, the pair emerged. Both women were aghast by what they found. Ravens. About seven ravens danced around the roof, wings flapping and beaks cawing. And, of course, their fellow Knighties dashing around in a vain attempt to catch the pesky birds. A myriad of curses, and the like, filled the air, and in the middle stood Roz, wielding a shovel as if it were a battle-axe. Roses, jasmine and other remnants of her once-beautiful pallid garden lay in tattered pieces, ravaged and broken. A pair of ravens circled the perturbed Co-Leader, cawing and yawping. "SHOO! SHOO!! You filthy birds! My LILIES! Noooooooo!!!" "Man, I feel like I have walked into an Edgar Allan Poe poem," Zoe quipped to Stephers, "Only more so." Stephers shrugged, "Could be worse, could be Hitchcock." Zoe shook her head, "Nah, ravens aren t as scary as seagulls." "Seagulls? Hitchcock s birds were pigeons." "Pigeons? What movie were you watching?" Zoe turned to her companion. Stephers pivoted closer, allowing a raven, with a determined Knightie in hot pursuit, to race by. "I thought it was pigeons," Stephers shrugged again, "besides, ravens are worse than seagulls. I mean, you ve seen "The Crow"." "Ah, crow, not ravens," Zoe nodded and waved her hand, dismissing the idea, "different bird entirely. But the crow wasn t scary, Eric Draven was. The crow only gave him his power. Sorta like the Genie to Aladdin s Lamp." "You two," Roz bellowed from her position defending the garden, her face flushed with anger, "stop your highly intellectual debate about birds and help us. THAT S AN ORDER!" Zoe and Stephers both cringed. Busted. The pair began to stammer an apology, when a loud whistle cut through the air. All the Knighties stopped and turned to their Co-Leader, Nancy, who stood with her arms crossed, displeasure lacing her features. "Listen up! We have to deal with this infestation with a little bit more organization, people. Not to mention decorum. Running around chasing these bloody birds is not going to - HEY! GET AWAY FROM MY ANTENNA, YOU LITTLE-" The Knighties Co-Leader flung herself towards her Ham Radio Antenna, where the largest of the ravens had resigned himself to peck at the huge metal rod. Tap. Tap. Tap. The bird pecked with a vengeance and a staunch determination. It hardly noticed the enraged Knightie who traveled quickly towards him, arms flailing and enough curses spewing to make any sailor, and a number of the Knighties, blush. He looked up into the face of the angry human, and flapped his wings, jetting out of her grasp. His face erupted into a smirk, well, as much as any bird can smirk. Nancy opened her mouth to let loose another tirade of curses when Chris F. s voice split through the air. "GOT ONE!" The Knighties turned and looked at her. She struggled with one of the black demons. It cawed and snapped at her hands. But the Knightie Nurse was diligent, she wasn t gonna let this little bugger loose to cause more damage to their roof-top garden/surveillance station. "Gem and Katrinka, go down stairs and grab some sleeping bags, quickly!" Nancy ordered. They disappeared into the loft without a second glance. Nancy and Roz, with shovel still in tow, slowly approached the struggling nurse. "How did you do it, Chris?" Roz asked. Chris gestured towards the ground, with her chin. A dozen sets of eyes fell downward. At their feet lay a small yellow cube like candy. "I saw the bird pecking at it," The Knightie Nurse said, "so I grabbed one and lured it in. Then WHAMMO, I grabbed it. Raven s aren t notoriously smart." The raven in her hands squawked in defense. Chris shushed it. "It looks like a BRICK," Zoe blurted. She was instantly greeted with glares and frowns. She had used the forbidden word again. She was going to have toilet duty soon for sure, "Well, it does have some....uh.. b-word... like qualities." "This must have been the Ravenettes," Nancy sighed, "I mean, the ravens are obvious enough. But add those little candies, and it s pretty transparent." Roz nodded in agreement, "Yep. The Ravenettes for sur- Oh not again!" Her eyes flashed towards the garden. Two of the birds had resumed their destructive attack on Roz s fragile lilies. With a loud war-cry, she quickly scooped up her shovel, and threw herself back into the fray. CLANG! CLATTER! CLANG! The remaining Knighties suppressed giggles and grins as their Illustrious Co-Leader battled diligently and ferociously against her blackened nemeses. Clangs, caws, grunts, and groans filled the Knighties ears. Moments later, Gemsong and Katrinka reemerged from below teeming with sleeping bags. "Now what?" Gem sighed, depositing her share at the Knightie Nurse s feet. Eowyn assisted Chris in depositing the dirty bird into the bag. It squealed and fluttered as it was plunged into darkness. The pair immediately closed the sleeping bag, ending the bird s hopes for escape. Nancy reached down and picked up the yellow cube, her fingers dancing over its surface. Her brow furrowed in contemplation. "I think Chris is on the right track," Nancy said, her eyes addressing the troops, "after all, running around and beating them with shovels won t work." CLANG! "I _heard_ that, Nancy Taylor!" CLANG! CLACK! CLANG! Nancy grinned, her eyes never deviating from the Knighties, "Seriously, everyone pair off in twos. One person lure the birds in with these candies, and the second one grab the little jerks, and shove em into a sleeping bag. We ll worry about revenge later." Nancy s eyes scanned the Knighties, as if she could read their minds, "and I mean it, only AFTER this mess is cleaned up." The Knighties nodded and paired off into teams. They had a plan. A good plan. And with any luck, Nick would never have to be the wiser. ~Continued~ From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kvaf-0004tn-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:25:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6465; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:22:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2900; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:22:56 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:27:33 -0600 Reply-To: "K. Astop" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "K. Astop" Subject: WAR: Knighties: Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!" (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 525a90f3b10cdc58f5407770c914b44e Story Name: Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!" (3/3) Author: Zoe with tons of input from the Beloved Knighties! (Thanks dudes!) Place: The Loft Time/Date: August 21st, 1999 Morning About an hour after, "A Lamanation of Ravens" All Knighties violated, err, I mean, used with permission. No animals or flowers were actually harmed in the making of this story. The preparations had been made. The proud Knighties sat back and looked at the fruits of their labors. Stephers and her team of Flyer-Making-Experts displayed their wares with pride and honor. "Knighties Rule", "LaCroix Who?", "800 Years Old and Never Looked Better", "Real Men Drive Caddies!", and several other catchy phrases adorned the makeshift banners. "Perfect," Nancy smiled, "Absolutely perfect." The Knighties had once again done her proud. The past few hours of raven-catching had almost dwindled to a memory. Until she caught something flutter out of the corner of her eye. "LISA!" Nancy shrieked, "WHAT IS THAT, THAT *THING* DOING IN HERE?" Once again, the Knighties eyes moved towards another commotion. Nancy gaped at the spectacle, her face once again reddening with anger. Lisa was descending the staircase, a happy smile dancing over her face. She looked like any other happy Knightie, except for the large black demon of chaos that sat perched on her arm. "What?" Lisa frowned, "Oh." She reddened and looked at her newfound friend, "Uh, well, I told you kindness would work. We came to an understanding." "But, but," Nancy stammered, "my antenna!" "It s okay, Nancy. Your antenna is fine. A couple small dents, but fine nonetheless. He just needed some affection." "Affection?!" Lisa smiled, "Yes," Her eyes moved once again to the raven, "Didn t you, Stuart? You pretty pretty bird." Stuart the Raven immediately preened himself proudly. The affection did seem to work. Nancy sighed deeply. She hadn t meant for one of her Knighties to bond with the infernal bird, let alone name him. But it was apparent that Lisa s plan had worked. He was no longer tapping on her antenna, and clean-up had already started on the roof. There didn t seem to be any problem, at the moment. "What about bird shi-" Zoe started. "Poop. PG-13, remember Zoe?" Eowyn corrected, grinning widely. Zoe nodded, her eyes remaining fixed on the black raptor. "I ll take care of him. Stuart and I have decided that he should come and live with me," Lisa grinned. Nancy shook her head, "Just keep an eye on him, Lisa. And watch for droppings. Nick ll freak if he discovered raven do-do in his loft after we have left." Lisa saluted the Co-Leader and resumed her obsequious attention to the foul bird. Nancy shook her head once again, and returned to her fellow Knighties who had resumed their steady work on the revenge. "Okay, now, Flyer Battalion. Grab your banners and the sleeping bags, and head upstairs. Roz and Stephers will supervisor with Operation: Release the Bombs," Nancy ordered, her voice echoed in commanding tones. "Kat s done with the Package, we should drop it as soon as possible," Zoe said, her eyes glinting with mischief. Nancy nodded at her in agreement. "Yes, Zoe, you, Chris, Eowyn, and Gem take it and make the drop. Then come back here before they can bust you." Zoe saluted al a Lisa, and raced towards the kitchen, with an impish hop in her step, "Oh boy, Oh boy! Man, we never had this much fun at Art School!" ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The sun was a bright ball in the sky as a dozen or so Knighties stood admiring its radiance from a top Nicholas Knight s loft. Smiles dripped from their lips, as several members lifted their arms releasing six blackened messengers into the air - small, but readable banners tied tightly to their talons. Several yells and cheers erupted on the boiling roof, as the ravens soared upwards, beginning their jounrey across the Toronto skyline. Their messages - one of truth. Their destination - everywhere. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Meanwhile, across town, the four delivery girls were crammed into a teeny rental car. They were on their way to the Raven to deliver their Package to the diva-like faction that had so irritatingly infested their beautiful roof-top sanctuary with the black devils. Eowyn was driving, maniacally, taking the quickest way possible. "Okay, so Gem, you just grab it and leave it on the doorstep. But don t forget to knock loudly. Then run like there is no tomorrow!" Chris was iterating the plan for the Birthday Girl for the sixth time. "I got it, I got it!" Zoe let out a deep sigh and looked down. She was scrunched between Eowyn and Gem in the front seat, and in her lap was the coveted Package that they were about to bequeath to the Ravenettes. She frowned as the crusty center of the suspiciously harmless pie began to move and shift. "Uh, Dudes. We might wanna step on it! It s MOVING!" With the squeal of the tires, Eowyn floored the small metal vehicle and threw the Knighties towards the Raven. Moments later, Gem was yipping and running back to the get-away car, a huge grin dancing across her face. The last thing Zoe saw before the automobile blazed away, was the lone blackbird pie sitting innocently on the steps of the Raven, as the door began to creak open. ~Fin~ From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kvaw-0003XL-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:25:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7740; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:22:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2852; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:22:05 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:26:38 -0600 Reply-To: "K. Astop" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "K. Astop" Subject: WAR: Knighties: Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!" (2/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f3278c026f7c1e210bf58d90ba48d83c Story Name: Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!" (2/3) Author: Zoe with tons of input from the Beloved Knighties! (Thanks dudes!) Place: The Loft Time/Date: August 21st, 1999 Morning About an hour after, "A Lamanation of Ravens" All Knighties violated, err, I mean, used with permission. No animals or flowers or antennas were actually harmed in the making of this story. Several hours had passed. The Knighties had finally been successful in retrieving all the ravens from the roof. All but one. The large bird that had so spitefully introduced himself to Nancy managed to flee out of the eager hands of the Knighties on every occasion. Even after a narrow miss by Roz s power shovel, the cocky raven continued to caw and flutter, tormenting and taunting the exasperated faction. His current position was back at the ham radio antenna. He preened himself thoroughly, his ebony wings flapping. While his beady black eyes only went to the Knighties when their shouts and jeers grew loud enough to annoy him. "I say we shoot it," An extremely rankled Roz suggested, "I mean, Nick has to have an extra gun around here somewhere." The raven raised his head and bellowed out a loud caw. His beak then plunged once again into the antenna. Tap. Tap. Tap. "Noooo!" Nancy cried. Her eyes flashed to Roz, and she growled through clenched teeth, "Stop it! You are ticking him off! And he is wrecking my antenna!" Roz let out a deep breath, "Well I don t know what else to do. I am willing to entertain suggestions." The raven tapped the antenna once more, then raised his head, as if listening to the plotting Knighties. "I might have an idea," a small voice squeaked. The two Leaders turned and looked at Lisa. She had been pretty silent through the majority of the war and her sudden forthrightness surprised the two lead Knighties. "Yes, Lisa?," Nancy said, her voice softening, her normal kind guidance emerging from the cloud of anger. "Well, he s a smart one," she said, her voice gaining volume, "we can t lure him with the candies. We ve tried knocking him unconscious. And we have tried a sneak attack. None of it has worked. My suggestion is," she paused, trying to build up courage, "kindness." "Kindness?!?" Roz and Nancy said together, surprise in each of their voices. "I think she might be right, you guys," Chris agreed. "Yeah, nothing else has worked," Gem added, "let her give it a shot." Gem s shoulders shrugged. The rest of the faction mumbled agreements and even a few "go for it, Lisa!". The two Co-Leaders looked at each other. Lisa was right. They *had* tried everything. And the little bastard managed to be one step ahead of them at every turn. Roz and Nancy nodded in unison at the bashful Knightie. She smiled widely and crept towards the antenna. "The rest of us should start lugging these infernal birds downstairs. I think an idea has been mentioned about what to do with them, " Roz whispered, winking at the Knightie Nurse and Zoe. The Knighties started to trudge back downstairs. Roz and Nancy stopped at the entrance and looked towards the lone remaining Knightie. She stood beneath the pesky raven, smiling up at him. Roz and Nancy shook their heads and started back downstairs. It was then that the pair heard, "Who s a pretty bird?" *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "So that s plan," Chris said, addressing the rest of the faction. The Knighties were stationed in combat-readiness in the living room. The sleeping bags filled with the unfortunate ravens were piled high in the centre. "Are you sure?" Katrinka raised an eyebrow. "What a better revenge. It ll kick the Ravenettes in the butt, plus hey, what s better than free advertising?" Zoe grinned widely, from her position next to Chris. Katrinka returned the grin and nodded. She rose from her position in a chair, and sashayed into the kitchen. "Hey, Kat, you *can* rig it like that, right?" Zoe asked, apprehension filling her voice, "I mean, bake it without filling it first? Ya know, so the top comes off, or whatever?" "Of course, I can. This is *me* baking, not you," Katrinka winked. Zoe opened her mouth to retort when Chris jerked her towards the dining room table. They had already dispatched a group of Knighties to assist Roz in cleaning up the disaster on the roof, plus collecting the remaining yellow cube candies. The Cleaning Knighties were dashing around for garbage bags and brooms. The remaining Knighties were on Revenge Detail. "Alright, so we have the flyers ready," Chris gestured to a group of Knighties who were about to begin work on phase one of the Revenge. "Check," Eowyn said, "And Kat s working on Operation BlackBird." "How big do you want em?" Stephers said as she led the flyer-making group towards Zoe s stash of ink and paper. Chris shrugged, "Big enough to see, I guess." Stephers nodded. Her group started to write and cut with wild abandon. "That only leaves one thing," Zoe scrunched up her nose, her eyes darting towards the sleeping bags, "How many?" "How many will fit, Katrinka?" Gem hollered towards the Romany. "Uh, two? Maybe?" "Okay, so I guess we do two then," Zoe sighed, "never hurts to be thorough. Now, who gets this lucky job?" "Well, I might not be a vet, but I think I am pretty qualified," the Knightie Nurse breathed, "but I ll need someone to hold em down." Zoe and Chris eyes fell to Eowyn, grins tugging at the corners of their mouths. "Wha? Me?" She said, surprised. "Yeah, you and Gem." Chris said, simpering, "I ll be able to do it better if I don t have to hold em. Steadier hand and all that." Gemsong and Eowyn exchanged incredulous glances, then stood. The pair traipsed towards the sleeping bags, each lifting one. They returned to the dining room table, as Chris withdrew two needles from her bag. Zoe looked down at the needles and blanched. She grabbed onto the dining room table, steadying herself. "Needles bother you, Zoe?" Chris grinned. "What? No," Zoe s complexion had shifted to a light green colour, "well, not entirely." Gem, Eowyn and Chris laughed heartily. "You have your ears pierced in six different places, your navel pierced, plus a tattoo, and needles bother you?" Eowyn laughed loudly, unable to contain herself. Zoe glared, "Yeah, so. Uh, they bug me. Its a normal human phobia. You d be surprised by the statistics of those prone to, uh, needle-fear." She turned away from the table, pouting. "Alright, pull one out, Eowyn," Chris said, "and hold the sucker down. I ll pump it full of this tranquilizer and we ll be set!" Eowyn nodded and slowly unzipped the sleeping bag. The raven immediately began moving and fluttered in a mad attempt to flee. Eowyn thrust her hand into the dark sleeping bag and she winced in pain. "The little jerk bit me!" "Just grab him!" Gem urged. Eowyn shot her a glare and continued to wrestle with the hidden bird. About ten minutes, and several bites, later, Eowyn pulled the bird out by the feet and forced it onto the table. Gem reached out and assisted her in holding the little tyrant down. Chris leaned in and with her nursing tenderness, pierced the raven s skin with the needle. Her thumb depressed the plunger, filling the little bird with the tranquilizer. "Are you guys done?" Zoe said, looking over her shoulder. Chris withdrew the needle, and patted the already drowsy bird on the head, "Yep, just one more." Eowyn grinned evilly at the Birthday Girl, "Your turn, Gem." Gem s face paled slightly. She hoisted up her bag, and lifted it onto the table, apprehensively. "Oh, and if he bites you, just grab him!" Eowyn said, wryly. ~Continued~ From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kvhr-0005AA-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:32:35 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6510; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:30:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3407; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:30:21 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:31:40 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: UF: A Bee in the Hand is Worth Two in the Hive To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d18d15d520f3c78e86216211e8729d64 WAR: UF: A Bee in the Hand is Worth Two in the Hive (1/1) BY: Cousin Shelley TIME: Thursday, August 28th, afternoon, before the DP visit LOCATION: The Hive, UF headquarters Nothing to do today, nobody to attack, Presence thought as she decided to gaze out one of the back windows. Over a week of having beehives just yards away from her, even through walls and glass, still made her tense. But she had managed to stay calm the first time a bee got close, so why did it still bother her that they were right there, outside? I'm gonna do it, she thought. Face a fear and it's not so scary, or so they say. Lora couldn't seem to stay away from those hives and she hasn't gotten stung once, so what am I afraid of? As she watched Lora going from box to box, doing she-didn't-know-what, her friend's white suiting blurred under Presence's breath. She swiped at the steamed-over spot and headed outside. Lora, engrossed with the bees, suddenly felt someone intensely watching her. "Presence!" The nervous woman smiled. "So, how're the little buggers today?" She rocked on her heels and crossed her arms. "Oooooh, okay. I think it's great that you're out here, but I wouldn't get too close if I were you. I've been--" "I know, Lora, I know," Presence said in a no-nonsense tone. "But I'm facing this problem and I'm going to conquer it. I mean, you don't get stung. And, well, so what if I get stung anyway?" Presence continued explaining, and reassuring herself. Lora tried to interrupt her and give an explanation of her own, but Presence wouldn't be dissuaded. "They're bugs, for crying out loud." Presence took a few steps closer. "I mean, they're *insects*, and I'm not allergic so they don't pose any real danger." She took a few more steps. "That's great, but *please* stop where you are. I usually come out here without this suit, but we have an unhappy hive here, so if you insist on staying, maybe you should put one on, too." Lora pointed to the hive closest to Presence. "I think there's a worker somehow laying eggs in an upper comb and mucking up the whole project. The whole colony is doing uncharacteristic things and acting... bizarre." As Presence started slowly walking backwards, Lora frowned and launched into a complex explanation of the situation and its ramifications. "See, the Queen won't--" Lora stopped as a noisy bee landed squarely on Presence's forehead. "Don't panic, Pres, just stay calm. If it didn't sting you the minute it lit, chances are it won't." Lora slowly walked toward her friend. "And even if it does sting me," Presence said, the nervousness apparent in her voice, "it's only a bee sting, right?" She giggled slightly. "Right." As Lora came within a few steps of the now rapidly breathing UFfer, she took off her hood. "Just hold still and I'll get it off. I have a way with bees, you know." Presence whispered. "So I'm told." Lora slowly raised her hand to her friend's face. She mentally welcomed the bee which quickly crawled onto her finger. As she handed her hood to Presence, who promptly put it on, she examined the little fella on her hand. "Oh my gosh." Lora thrust her finger toward the hooded woman and nearly knocked her backwards. "He's on borrowed time, poor little thing. He couldn't have stung you." As Lora turned her hand the bee crawled around, always remaining on top. Presence jerked back as another bee lit on Lora's hand. Lora's eyes shone up as the second, slightly larger bee followed the first one, making circles on Lora's hand and arm. "Neat. Two sociable bees, and awwww, look," she held her arm up for Presence to get a closer look, "neither have stingers. Doomed, doomed, doomed." Gathering her courage once again, Presence removed the hood and stepped forward. "They can't sting me. They can't bite me. There's nothing to fear," she said, as she slowly laid her hand behind the pair of bees on her friend's hand. She flinched slightly as the first one immediately hopped onto one of her fingers. The second bee stayed put but started flying up a bit then dipping down, twirling, jumping and spinning in circles. "Look at that," said Presence, laughing. "It's either having a fit of some kind or it's a disco bee!" Both women laughed. Then Lora realized what was happening. "Oh my GOSH! Do you know what it's doing?" Lora talked so fast Presence could barely understand her. "It's giving directions to the other bee! It's a sort of code-dance that gives exact directions to a pollen source. This is incredible! Oh man, where's a videocamera when you need one!" They watched as the first bee actually turned away from the other, which was now spinning in circles and buzzing frantically. The second bee seemed to take affront at that and flew into the small one, demanding his attention. This little ritual continued for a few minutes, one dancing, one ignoring, a little *quarrel* and then dancing again. Inspiration struck. "This one came first, and this one is trying to give directions, presumably to pollen, which bees need for survival, to this one, right?" Lora nodded as Presence continued. "And this bee wants nothing to do with it, right?" Lora nodded, then as understanding dawned a wide grin appeared. "Nick and LaCroix!" both women said simultaneously, then broke up laughing. At that, both bees took flight and buzzed in circles around the women, continually stopping to fly in almost geometric patterns in front of each UFfer's confused face. "They're trying to tell us something." Lora watched the bees, and listened inside her head, hoping to understand. "Sure looks that way, doesn't it?" Presence smiled and watched the pair perform their air show. "No, I mean they *are* trying to tell us something. It's important to them. But I can't quite get it..." Finally the bees disappeared into the sky, one just behind the other. Lightning crackled, threatening an unexpected storm, so the UFfers headed toward the house. Lora made a mental note to come back very soon and get to the bottom of the odd hive behavior and the undelivered message. Lora patted Presence's back. "That was great! You had a bee on your hand, flying around your face, and you could actually laugh!" Presence took a deep breath. "I can hardly believe it myself." As they disappeared around a corner of the building, a single bolt of lightning flashed again and the beehive shuddered with energy, driving angry bees out and away. Two stingerless bees made quick U-turns and, one still inches behind the other, headed for the imposing edifice that housed the humans. Looping and dipping, zigging and zagging, twirling and diving, the pair flew from window to window, waiting and watching for a point of entry. End Cousin Shelley netbus1@hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KvwU-00049h-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:47:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7831; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:45:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4014; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:45:24 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 20:46:42 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: Wine & Honey (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f37a066a27a11e7b186f364c885a3cd4 WAR: UF: Wine & Honey (1/2) By: Lauren Hawes, Les GS, Julia Kocich, with thanks to Amie=20 LaRouche Setting: The Hive, UF HQ; The Loft, Knightie HQ Time: Friday, Aug. 27 afternoon and evening ~~~~~ AT THE HIVE, early afternoon: "So ... I mean, I know I don't participate very much in all the=20 Warring, but ..." said Illinois Jules, who sat at the long oak=20 table in the kitchen. She watched closely as Amie chopped what=20 appeared to be several pounds of dark, rich chocolate. "Yes, Jules? It's all right. Just tell us what's on your mind,"=20 replied Julia, looking up from her research on medieval beverages. "Well, it's like this ... Um ... I think it's great we're feeding=20 The Other Guy, but ..." Before she could finish, Julia began pontificating: "... but why=20 aren't we feeding Lacroix an authentic meal of his time? Jules, you=20 know that if this faction *had* a name, its middle one would be=20 'Pedantic.' Amie is an ardent student of medieval and renaissance=20 cuisine. If we *had* someone expert at preparing whatever it was=20 Romans ate, then we certainly *would* offer to prepare a meal like=20 ... the slaves used to make, in the good old days before Pompeii=20 went pop." "Dormice. On toast." Lauren called from her work at the other end=20 of the spacious room. She was making pastry dough for the pie.=20 "Served with a sauce call `garum' - made from fish eggs left to rot=20 in the sun for a month, then mixed with a little vinegar." One of=20 the eels in the pail by her leg moved, and a small splash of water=20 hit the floor. "Ick, ick, ick." Les had been pressed into service washing=20 vegetables and fruits. Pears and apples, polished to a glow, were=20 piled into a copper bowl on the counter. "And I've read they ate=20 hippopotamus noses and larks' tongues too." Jules, a light shade of pistachio green, left the kitchen in favor=20 of the more hospitable climes of the Blue Room. Amie and Lauren stayed in the kitchen, slicing, chopping,=20 measuring, marinating, flouring, reducing, pureeing, straining,=20 baking, roasting, saut=82ing and generally working their long,=20 elegant UFfish fingers to the bone. Even though the Knighties had brought in extra stoves to make=20 cookies for Nick, Amie preferred the Hive's equipment and the=20 relative quiet and spaciousness of its kitchen. Weasel and=20 Refrigerator had already made several trips in the FedEx van,=20 shuttling gingerbread, cakes, bread, tartlets, the crock of honeyed=20 peaches and several items no one but Amie could identify over to=20 the Loft. It had been decided, for practical and esthetic reasons,=20 that all the dirty pots, pans, dishes and utensils would be stored=20 in the Loft elevator and removed unobtrusively by the same two ...=20 gentlemen. "Lauren?" The Uffer glanced over at the chef, who was staring despondently at=20 a tray of marchpane, a spoon full of glossy white frosting in her=20 upraised hand. "Is this a good idea? I mean ... now that Nick knows he has to ...=20 go back across." Amie sighed. "How could he even want to eat?" "Well ... we agreed to cook this dinner. I know the circumstances=20 have changed, but Nick ... he might want to experience all the=20 mortal sensations he can. And eating this meal will certainly be a=20 fine memory for him." "I suppose you're right." A pensive look on her face, Amie turned=20 back to the task at hand. There was still a large amount of work to=20 do, if the Feast was to be perfect ... A few hours later Laurey walked into the kitchen, carefully=20 averting her eyes from the still form that lay on the stainless=20 steel prep table, covered with a sheet. Only the blue-green=20 iridescence of the feather that had fallen on the floor gave away=20 its identity. "Hi. Sure smells great in here. What are you doing?" Amie turned around from the drawer she was searching through, a=20 very long skewer in her hand. "We're about to finish the Second=20 Soteltye. Wanna help?" Laurey backed quickly out of the kitchen and Lauren firmly shut the=20 door behind her. Les, leaning back against a counter, arms crossed over her chest,=20 watched as Amie and Lauren began to drape the skin, feathers still=20 attached, back over the royal carcass. "So," she ventured, "you just cooked it like a turkey?" "We roasted it, yes, but that's only the beginning. It's the=20 presentation that's complicated." "Yeah, gilded feet and all, I see that," said Les, nodding. She=20 watched as Lauren took a trussing needle and began to make dainty=20 little stitches, sewing the skin back on. "After you take all the=20 fancy hoo-hah off, does it carve like a turkey or a goose?" Amie bit her lip, looking a little worried. "I suppose so. Though=20 I'm not really expert at carving those either." Lauren looked at her, aghast. "You're not?" "No! I'd hoped you were!" "Well ... I can get slices of meat off the roast." Both women stared at one another, Amie's hands stilled in her=20 attempt to get the tail feathers to stand upright. "Carving, oh, that's a cinch," Les informed them absently, fiddling=20 with a cute little paring knife. Amie eyed Les suspiciously. "I thought you didn't know anything=20 about cooking." Les looked up at her, mildly surprised by her tone. "Cooking,=20 carving: they're completely different things. With carving you have=20 to be sensitive to the placement of the joints, how they bend, how=20 the flesh sits on the bones beneath, its 'grain' and how to cut to=20 get it to fall cleanly-" "Fine. *You* will carve the peacock." "Me? Uh." Les ran a hand nervously through her hair. "Uh. But, but,=20 at the Loft ... No, I don't think so." "For heavens' sake, why ever not?" "I ... don't have anything to wear?" tried Les. "Someone will lend you something pretty," Amie promised. "I *really* don't think so," she growled, resembling Churchill even=20 sans benefit of a cigar. Lauren flung up her hands. "Honestly, Les, it doesn't matter *what*=20 you wear, so long as it's clean. But, you see, the carving of a=20 peacock is special, there's a sense of ritual to it. It's-it's a=20 true art form." "Yeah?" said Les slowly, interested despite her better sense. "Yes," Lauren affirmed, tones enticing. "It requires precise work=20 with a very sharp knife, an intimate knowledge of avian musculature=20 and a certain amount of upper body strength." "Yeah?" Les repeated, well under Lauren's verbal spell. "It would be a real shame to leave this ultimate carving moment in=20 the hands of someone who has no idea what to do with a sharp knife." "Yeah." Les's murky green eyes hazed as she said dreamily, "Yeah. =20 Okay. I'll- what's the medieval term?" "Dysfygure the pecake." "Yeah. I'll dysfygure the pecake." ~~~~~~~~ Continued in part 2. From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kvwc-0004A5-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:47:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6566; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:45:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4036; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:45:28 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 20:46:45 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: Wine & Honey (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 41d4a67b59e09fe72c77c825900e9327 WAR: UF: Wine & Honey (2/2) By: Lauren Hawes, Les GS, Julia Kocich, with thanks to Amie=20 LaRouche Setting: The Hive, UF HQ; The Loft, Knightie HQ Time: Friday, Aug. 27 afternoon and evening Nick and Knighties used with permission. AT THE LOFT, that evening: The UFfers couldn't help nudging each other as they rode up in the=20 elevator. "Who would ever have imagined that we, the Unnamed Faction, would=20 be allowed into the Loft, and actually prepare a banquet for Nick=20 and the Knighties?" asked Megan. The heavy door slid open and they tumbled out, carrying as much as=20 they could handle. "Here, let me help," said Nick, stepping forward like the perfect=20 host. "Gosh." "Wow." "Hi." "Gulp." "Sh ... I mean ... thanks so much." Nick watched the women with a slight smile of amusement. They were=20 clearly thrilled to finally be inside the Loft that they believed=20 they knew so well. "Please, put your things down and let me give=20 you a quick tour." As the small group followed in Nick's wake, Julia looked at her=20 watch. She knew this meal would take some time to finish preparing,=20 to serve, and, most important, to eat. Once a stage manager, always=20 a stage manager ... a sharp glance at Amie and Lauren, who were=20 busy admiring the handsome blond police detective, sent them both=20 scurrying into the kitchen. Amie donned her big black apron and=20 prepared to put the final touches on the meal. After the impromptu tour concluded, Nick excused himself to go=20 upstairs and change his clothes. "How is he"? Julia quietly asked Roz, after Nick had left the room. "What do you think?" Roz said with a trace of bitterness. "He's=20 crushed. There's nothing he ... we ... can do." "Here's the, uh, thing." Julia handed the unnamed thingy to the=20 Knightie, not bothering to mention that she had been forced to=20 extract it, coated with drool, from Tybalt's firmly clenched jaws.=20 "I'm sorry. At least he can control the ritual now," she offered. Despite the somber mood that threatened to overshadow the Feast,=20 Laurey, Megan, Chele, and Susan mingled with Roz, Sandra, Nancy,=20 and the other Knighties as introductions were made. Julia deftly=20 uncorked several bottles of wine at the bar. Les, with Amie's antique carving knife clutched in a velvet bag,=20 accepted a cup of the small ale that had been brewing for days. The Loft looks beautiful, Julia thought, as she quit struggling=20 with a bottle of mead and simply set it on the bar for someone else=20 to open. Red and white roses were massed in silver vases placed=20 about the great room, and tall ivory tapers threw a soft glow=20 everywhere. The Knighties had set up a long table, draped in the snowiest of=20 linens, set with silver chargers and sparkling crystal. At either=20 end, candelabrum, their bases draped in ivy, added more=20 illumination. A sideboard, pushed against the far window, held an array of=20 dishes: melons, grapes, and cheeses; a basket overflowing with=20 bread of all sorts, little plates of pickled mushrooms and=20 artichokes. A succulent ham took center stage, surrounded by pat=82s=20 and stalks of sweet fennel. Anticipation built as the odors from the kitchen drifted through=20 the loft, and several of the Knighties looked furtively around for=20 the peacock. A hush swept through the Loft as the guest of honor, dressed in a=20 loose white shirt and black leggings, descended the stairs to gaze=20 with some amusement at the medieval tableau set before him. "Nick, how do we look? Authentic?" Susan wore a cutaway surcoat of=20 gold brocade over a pale-blue satin gown lined with gold silk. On=20 her head rested a circlet of jeweled pearls and her blue velvet=20 shoes were decorated with matching gems. Smiling, Nick took a long look at Susan, who started to blush, and=20 then he turned and regarded the crowd of UFfers and Knighties. Most of the women had donned their idea of medieval costume, long=20 gowns in sumptuous fabrics and bright colors such as the Queen of=20 France had never seen. They were all smiling back at him, sincere=20 and hopeful, and Nick realized with a pang that he could never=20 explain the realities of his life in the 13th century. Let them=20 play, he thought. "Ladies, you are all beautiful. I am delighted to accompany you to=20 our feast." He bowed and swept his arm toward the dining table,=20 sparkling in the candlelight. The Feast began as the guests took their seats, Julia poured more=20 wine, and Chele and Lauren brought out the first courses. Amie, too=20 nervous to actually eat, stayed in the kitchen, moving gracefully=20 in her violet-colored Raphaelesque gown as she hovered over her=20 delectable creations ... ... Roast pork in a sauce of red wine and coriander ... a tart of=20 spinach with a golden latticework crust ... cabbages and apples=20 baked with honey and butter ... the first tastes hesitant, then=20 enthusiastic as the rich and exotic flavors exploded in the guests'=20 mouths ... ... "The First Soteltye" Lauren intoned dramatically as she brought=20 in a large pie, its pastry dome festooned with stars and half-moons=20 cut into the sloping sides. "A starry gazey pie." Nick, lost in a reverie of his own, took a large sip of wine and=20 stared at the pie. Delicious ... An eel poked its silvery head through a star and did, indeed, gaze=20 around at the table of startled diners. Several more eels followed,=20 darting and waving, as they criss-crossed the top of the pie,=20 searching for a way out of the hot filling that would soon steam=20 them to a delicate mouthful. "Oh, my god." "Excuse me." There was a rustle of silk as Nancy stepped away from=20 the table and stood, staring, at a slight distance. "Hey, eels! I *love* eels!"=20 Heads turned in Julia's direction, disapprovingly. "Well ... we *are* kinda related," said the UF listcobra. But=20 seeing the real discomfort of some around the table, she tried to=20 convince them that this wasn't a culinary attack. "Strange as it=20 might seem to us now, this is a dish Nick would have been served.=20 Right, Nick?" Nick looked at the writhing eels and thought back. "Yes," he said,=20 "I remember eating pies like this ...." He saw the looks on some=20 faces and smiled. "But that doesn't mean you have to, if you don't=20 want to." "What is a soteltye, Nick?" ventured Sandra, looking across=20 the pie at Nick. "Courses between the main dishes. Food made to look like other=20 things, boats made of spun sugar, amusements for the guests ... I=20 know the last banquet before I ... ah" his voice trailed off as=20 Nick remembered that Janette had been at that banquet too. He=20 picked up the serving fork and helped himself to the pie. "Anyone=20 else?" The Knighties faced a moment of crisis. Let Nick eat alone, or join=20 in? After much silent communication around the table, almost every=20 Knightie accepted a small slice of pie. The extravagant courses continued ... Nick, presented with a dish of chicken minced with rose petals,=20 sprinkled with more petals, glanced towards the kitchen and caught=20 sight of Amie, still for a moment. Her eyes fixed on him,=20 expression anxious, as he slowly brought a morsel of the chicken to=20 his mouth. His brows lifted at the taste. "Rosee of Hennys!" he=20 exclaimed in delight. "I had this in my lord's house when I served=20 as squire. Perfect." Pleasure suffused Amie's face and she returned=20 to her post with renewed delight. ... tiny mushroom tarts, tasting of earth and cream ... a soup of=20 wine and almonds, followed by rice suffused with the bright taste=20 of saffron ... sorbets of pomegranate and lemon, served in frosty=20 silver cups ... the smell of cinnamon, cloves, ginger, all=20 mysterious spices Nick had first sampled during his Crusade ... Each dish was like Proust's madeleines, and evoked a sharp,=20 specific memory. The conversation at the table waxed and waned, as=20 Nick recalled a particular time he had tasted this or that, or told=20 them of a particular moment and people from his mortal past. ... "The Second Soteltye" Lauren said very softly, as she and Amie=20 carried in the gilded peacock on a huge silver platter. Quiet=20 reigned as the magnificent bird, its tail feathers fanning out=20 behind, was placed on the table. Amie stepped forward and cut away=20 the skin, removing the feathers in a single gesture that left only=20 the perfectly roasted meat. Les, a stark contrast in an onyx studded tuxedo shirt and leather=20 vest among the jeweled colors around the table, lifted the peacock=20 from its nest, piercing it with the long fork in her left hand. =20 Face serene, the antique blade in her right flashed, precise slices=20 of the upraised roast falling to the platter beneath in a rising,=20 overlapping spiral pattern. The cleaned carcass she placed on the=20 plate Lauren offered her. Setting down the fork and knife, she=20 sprinkled a pinch of salt over the meat. Finally, she picked up=20 the platter and offered it to their honored diner. Nick smiled,=20 saying, "Neatly done. I almost dropped it the first time I=20 dysfygured the pecake." He neglected to mention he'd been 14 years=20 old at the time. Les, with something like a tiny bow, stepped back, blinking in the=20 brightness of his smile. The amazing procession of dishes continued to pour from the kitchen=20 of the Loft. Sweet desserts-gingerbread and quince paste, a lemony=20 custard, fudge concocted from rosewater and almonds; a chocolate=20 cake named for the devil, so perfect was its decadence. And=20 finally, the fruit, glistening, soaked with honey, cream and=20 spices, piled high in a golden dish. Sighs rose from those at the table, a mix of admiration and of=20 regret for sated stomachs. Nick, leaning on long past experience,=20 as well as the enthusiasm with which his friends had fed him during=20 these past two weeks, had paced himself carefully. Now, with=20 perfect aplomb, he spooned a generous portion of the honeyed=20 peaches onto his plate. He tasted them, then, with utter=20 concentration, slowly savored every bite. With a contented smile,=20 he leaned back in his chair, hands coming to rest on his belly. Les slid up to remove his empty plate as Julia approached from the=20 other side to top off his glass. "The peaches," Nick began, looking back and forth between them. =20 "I've never had them before. They were excellent, but I'm afraid I=20 can't tell if they were authentic or not." Julia and Les glanced at each other, then Julia replied, "Actually,=20 that was something Amie created herself. Based on a 1st Century=20 Roman recipe." "Oh." Nick paused, looking thoughtful. "So that was something that=20 Lacroix might have eaten." "That's ... possible," Julia said slowly. She glanced back up at=20 Les, who had drawn in and was now holding a breath. "Send him a batch. To ... remind him how sweet mortality can be." .... as the hour grew late, Nick stood at the door, saying goodbye=20 to each of his guests.=20 He kissed Amie's hand, and whispered to her "Thank you. It was=20 perfect. I will never forget it, I promise." The UFfers were unusually silent in the elevator going down. "Well, I ... think he liked it," said Laurey. Julia smiled. "You do realize that we just managed to ... alter the adage of FK Wars, don't you?" "What do you mean?" "Well, this wasn't an attack, but it was the sincerest form of=20 affection." Les fixed Julia with a severe look. "Julia. Do I detect an iota=20 of... sentiment?" Julia gasped, alarmed. "Was that what that was? I'm... I'm sorry. =20 It's this War-" "Well..." Les's voice softened. She glanced around at the other=20 UFfers, and they nodded. "It's all right. Just this once. =20 Considering the circumstances and all." "War is heck," Lauren murmured. *THE END* From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kvz0-0005hA-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:50:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6572; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:46:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4093; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:46:42 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:48:01 EDT Reply-To: Libratsie@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: RP: A Ratpacker Must Do What A Ratpacker Must Do (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2dfb98b075c84600150f19ee9404622b WAR: RP: A Ratpacker Must Do What A Ratpacker Must Do (01/01) TIME: Around the Mercs' "A POOHBAH MUST DO...." DISCLAIMER: No actual harm was done to any real life Merc Pain In The Butt. Well, except for the incident with the rat, the silly string, and the Velvet Elvis painting - but that WAS an accident! Oh, yeah, everyone used with everyone's permission by Libby Singleton "Wot's tha'?" Johnsie asked jumping up and down trying to see over the heads of the other Ratpackers who had rats on their shoulders and their heads. By now there were many more wee lil' ratsies than space in Toronto. Even Barnabas the blind Basset, who was on his back whining for attention, had lil' ratsies sitting on his ample tummy. "The Gee H'ain't Oi Proud's pic-ture," Libs said. "We wuz jest studin' h'it a bit. H'it 'as come h'into me noggin tha' we h'ain't done nuthin' ta remind 'er o' 'er place h'in the h'universe." "Wot brought tha' h'up?" "The fact tha' she jest 'ad this berry mucho larger than loif pick-a-torture put h'up on the tunnel wall wot ta remind h'us o' h'our place," Libs explained. "Wot H'IS h'our place?" Marissa inquired. "Ta remind the Grumpy H'in the Pants wot 'ER place h'is," Michele replied. "Then let's 'op ta h'it!" Johnsie ordered. Before you can shake a rat's tail, much of the lil' ratsie hair which had been shed during the war was stapled to the GHP poster's head by Screed. "Oughta make me a rug h'out o' h'it meself," he chuckled. Libby dragged a flannel nightie (note this is NOT a Knightie though the image is rather amusing) and stapled it in place. "H'it's the GHP's gown! She won't h'even notice h'it's missin' 'til winter!" Marissa pulled out a makeup kit and proceeded to make the GHP look remarkable like a poorly made up clown. Johnsie joined in by using an eyebrow pencil to draw army boots in place. Michele gave up some lace she'd traded for at the swap meet to make a tutu over the flannel Knightie... uhr, nightie. Other Ratpackers assisted by installing ample lighting around the masterpiece. "H'okay, now let's take h'it down REAL carefully!" Johnsie stressed. "Tha's h'it, make h'it safe wot ta travel a bit." "Where are we takin' h'it h'on 'oliday ta?" Screed asked. "The top o' the CN Tower, natch!" Libs replied. "Wot h'else would ya ex-pect-or-ate a Ratpacker ta do, eh!?" --The End (o' the Ratpack if the GHP catches us!) LibRatsie@aol.com From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kvz3-000191-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:50:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7843; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:47:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4145; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:47:56 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:49:48 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: Enforcements/NA: It's a Wet, Wet World...(2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5220661fd31d1f37021d2a2ac88e2993 Enforcers/NA: It's a Wet, Wet World...(2/2) By Cousin Raven(raven@naturesong.com), Lady Enid (EnidKnight@aol.com) and Christy Stillman (NewCousin@aol.com) --------------------------- Wednesday 25 Aug appx 9:30 pm Blackwood Arms Hotel Roof. Fellow Enforcers Used with Permission, Addicts used with Permission, Tiff's Toenotes used with her permission. Evil Cousin Tiff, with the Toenotes in tow, wandered onto the roof of the Blackwood Arms. She would have been at the party earlier, but the boys had to fix their hair. Tiff just hoped that all the mousse they had used didn't clog the filter of the pool. The assembled factions had toweled off now and were making polite introductions--ones that didn't involve Sacred Cold Water Balloons. Dee looked up as Tiff and the boys came in. "Tiff! You made it! Come on over here." Christy eyed the boys suspiciously. "You didn't let them bring the camera equipment, did you?" she said, reaching for the back of her head. Trevor hid behind Tiff. "No camera equipment this time," Tiff replied. "We're just here to party." The boys spotted the generous spread of food. "Dude!" exclaimed Chip. "I am *starving.*" "Like, totally," agreed Chad with an emphatic nod. "Help yourselves," Raven said with a smile and an expansive wave toward the laden tables. The boys needed no further encouragement. They dug in. Caren and Glennis looked appreciatively at the males of the party, their clothing wet and clinging to their bodies. "You know," Glennis said to Caren. "I think we should institute some party games. Like a skinny dipping contest perhaps? I'd volunteer to be the judge." "Only if *I* get to judge, too," Caren answered with a lascivious grin. Shadowman, still in his boxers, reached for his waistband with a smile. Enid threatened him with another fistful of ice and turned to the ladies (and I use the term loosely). "Don't encourage him. This is supposed to be PG-13." This statement was met with some "boos" from the Addicted Ones, but Enid was right. The addicts were reluctantly forced to think adult thoughts without actually engaging in adult situations. However, since they were entirely used to doing this, they had little trouble. Ivy brought the pans of tiramisu to the table. "We forgot about these," she said. "I found them behind the bushes." Shadowman sniffed the contents of the pans appreciatively. "Ambrosia." "Nope," Christy said. "Tiramisu. It's better than ambrosia. Trust me." She smiled up at the man towering almost a full two feet above her. She swayed backward slightly, and he grabbed her arm to stabilize her. "Sorry. It's kind of like standing right next to a skyscraper and looking straight up," the short woman explained with a grin. Around midnight, Christy called the troops together. "Come on, guys. Busy day tomorrow. Gotta get some rest." She shooed them all toward the door as they said their goodbyes to the other faction. Stopping in front of Raven, Enid and the Shadowman, Christy smiled broadly. "Thanks so much for letting us come. We had a ball! I hate to have to hustle everyone out of here so early, but we're committed in another part of the War tomorrow...er...today." "Fortunes of War," Raven said, returning the smile. "Yeah. Enjoy what's left of it. I intend to!" Christy waved and followed her fellow addicts to the exit. From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kw6M-0004Ru-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:57:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6607; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:52:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4577; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:52:07 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:53:56 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA: Oh Where, Oh Where Did the MacCousin Go? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b1253df218bf90ae8a0c2ca5b0f4ff13 Title: Oh Where, Oh Where Did the MacCousin Go? Author: Christy Stillman Time: Tuesday, August 24, 1999, around 11:00 p.m. Place: The Shrine to Nunkies, Kitchen/Lab Notes: Dee and Glennis used with their permission. Dee rummaged through the refrigerator looking for a snack. There hadn't been many leftovers from the Conversion Day party last night, and what was left had been pretty well picked-over by the other addicts. She sighed and grabbed a bottled water instead, looking up as her mouse-eared friend wandered in. "Do you sleep with those things on?" she asked Christy. "Only when I'm dog tired," came the reply. "Right now, I'm too wired to sleep. Have you seen Heather around? We were discussing the McCallum side of my family in e-mail one day. I thought I'd ask if she could point me toward any URLs that might offer some help in some research I'm planning." With a thoughtful look toward the ceiling, Dee tapped her chin, making her look like a certain stuffed bear while in his Thotful Spot. "Noooo, come to think of it, I haven't seen her since earlier this evening." "Well," the redhead said as she grabbed a goodie or two from the 'frigerator. "Maybe she's at some other faction's function. There have been so many invitations going around that I can't keep up with them." "That's a possibility." Glennis entered, clad in her robe and slippers. "Hey, anybody seen the MacCousin? I need her input on a portrait I'm painting of Nunkies in a kilt." The three women's eyes glazed over slightly. "Nunkies in a kilt...yummm...." the three chorused. Meltdowns imminent, the three plopped down at the table, no longer thinking of discovering their friend's whereabouts. From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KrpX-0005gP-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:24:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6710; Sat, 28 Aug 99 19:22:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9433; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:22:05 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:24:39 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Delivery of the cube pieces to the Knighties X-To: fkwar10leaders@onelist.com, fkwar10leaders@egroups.com To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 66819eda424aa32c2c0c17c5d63ddad5 For those factions who are interesting in delivering their cube/staff pieces to the Knighties, Eowyn (Terri Wadsworth) will be available to accept your deliveries pretty much all day on Thursday and Friday, as well as Saturday morning/afternoon. She has given permission to be used in your posts if you are planning to write a delivery piece. Thanks. Nancy A. Taylor War 10 -- Knightie Co-Leader From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:38 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ks5l-00051B-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:41:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8750; Sat, 28 Aug 99 19:38:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9921; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:38:44 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 18:43:58 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Melissa White Subject: WAR: NP: SALON A time to cut To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8bef5d604a102886600fafa1ad8ba0b5 WAR: NP: SALON: A Time to Cut Thursday, 8.26.99 Follows "Beauty is in the eye" Written by: Melissa White. Everyone used with permission. Matt the hairdresser is mine. After being briefly mesmorized by the man who was later identified as Mitch Wetmore, Melissa began milling around the salon, checking out the scenery. She wasn't really paying attention, until she ran into a the form of a well built man. She looked up and instantly knew who it was. "GET back RATBOY!!" She screamed. The man just looked at her strangely. When her eyes refocused from the rage, she chuckled. "You get that alot don't you?" She asked. Luckily the man just chuckled at her anctic, probably not even understanding the meaning behind them. . "Right. Hey can you do me a favor? See that girl over there?" She pointed in Meg's direction who was helping a now concious Maureen. "I'm free for a while. Is she in need of a maseuse. I'll have you know I am an export in that field," the man replied. "Very good," Melissa said. She grinned when she saw the amazement in her friends eye. When she saw the man pointing at her, she waved and winked at Meg. After they moved off, she went back to wandering aimlessly around, and once again, she ran into another firm form. She looked up to the over six foot frame, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a great smile. "Oh. Wow." Was all she could think of to say. "Can I help you miss? You seem lost," he said with an unmistakable Texas accent that was as sweet as the smell of Magnolia. Heck yeah she was lost!! Who wouldn't be lost in those beautiful blue eyes. She blinked, and forced herself out of that vast blue sea and returned to the reason for the visit. "Well, I came because I need a bit of a trim. My curls are going limp and my layers are growing out," she said in a rush. The man just chuckled at her bluster. "Well I can certainly help you there. I also provide a vast number of services." "Oh yeah. I think I should very much like to take advantage of those as well Mr....." she said, searching for a name. "Just call me Matt," he replied with a toothy grin. "No way! You can't be serious." Matt looked at her stangely. "That's what my momma named me," he said. "B..but," Melissa started, but it was obvious he was not aware of the implications. After all, cross overs were not allowed, this could only be one of those cosmic coincidences that occasionally occured during the course of events. The star of "A Time to Kill" would not just suddenly find himself out of work in Hollywood and end up at a salon in Toronto. Things like that just didn't happen. But still!!!! It didn't matter. The man was beautiful. "What can I do for ya?" he asked, in his beautiful Texas accent. "Whatever it is your good at," Melissa said. "And I'm good at *alot* of things," he said with a very seductive smile, as he led her to a back room. -------------------------------------------------------- Later, after an undeterminable amount of time had passed, Melissa reemerged to find a few of the Packers wearing the same gushy looks. They had obviously had just been through the same wonderful experience. She was happy her hair had been shaped up and was bouncy again "He is sooooo beautiful!!" She told Meg. "I know," She replied, obviously not talking about Matt. The two spent the time waiting for the other Packers, gushing about either Christopher and Matt. -*************************** Pour the cappucinnos friends. Smoke them if you have them. It's poetry time. Again. -LaCroix "Forever Knight" ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ktn8-0001Vx-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:29:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9003; Sat, 28 Aug 99 21:27:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4466; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:27:29 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:30:55 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: Mistake made on *three* war posts X-To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8c8e832294f60220ef61ac503ae26b35 I tried to post this here yesterday, but was over my limit in posts for the day. I've since found out I made another mistake in credits on another post (I must have had some sort of brain freeze where Chris Forward was concerned--sorry again, Chris!). In my post, "Knightie Detective Work (1/2)" the appropriate credit line should read: by Sandra Gray with input from Chris Forward The part below the dotted line I posted yesterday to forkni-l. ---------------------------------------------------------- Despite doing a final check of my war posts before posting, I just noticed I made a mistake in the credits on two of them. I credited Chris Rosmini for input and some dialogue in the posts, "Knighties Check Out a Book (1/1)" and "Heart's Desire (1/1)". The pertinent credit line in both those posts should read: by Sandra Gray, with input and some dialogue by Chris Forward My apologies, Chris Forward, for the mistake. Should I repost corrected versions of these posts with the correct credits information to fkfic-l? Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ku3I-0000iS-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:46:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9163; Sat, 28 Aug 99 21:44:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6206; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:44:16 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:47:47 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: Question about policy regarding corrections to posts To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0d024f8d2e7783a8ecdce8ada0d42e99 As I have posted, I made mistakes in the credits info on three of the war posts I posted. I don't know who is archiving this War, but I'd like to have the correct credits info in my war posts. So can someone tell me what the policy is on this? Do I repost the corrected posts to fkfic-l? Send the corrected posts to the person who is archiving the War? Or will someone just edit the posts to reflect the correct information? None of the above? I have this list set to digest, so if you answer my question here, please send a cc directly to me also. Thanks. --Sandra Gray, forever Knightie --sandragray@rica.net From - Sat Aug 28 23:59:49 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KuPQ-0002eC-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:09:30 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6002; Sat, 28 Aug 99 22:07:10 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7381; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:07:11 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 22:09:35 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Come to Heather's Wedding Ceilidh (party) To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 486fe164b9be92f86ff51fc86953acb2 All members of all factions are invited to attend the Ceilidh celebrating the marriage of Heather Poinsett to Chris Dunbar. The ceilidh is taking place at the underground pub area of the Fiendish Glow from Saturday night until "whenever" -- we expect to be partying through the night (even after official closing time). Don't worry about dressing up or bringing gifts, as this is a last-minute, spur-of-the-moment celebration 'cos we didn't expect them to be tying the knot until later in the month (or early the next month) -- as they will be doing in Real Life. Just come as you are, eat, drink, dance, be merry... Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Sun Aug 29 00:05:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KwBH-0004cF-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:02:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9876; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:55:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4985; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:55:16 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 19:54:45 -0600 Reply-To: Stormer Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stormer Subject: War:N&NPack: A Little Applied Psychology To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8177f798e644db7f3886346055476713 A Little Applied Psychology By Rogue Cousin Tammy When: Sometime Saturday afternoon. ------------------ Tammy organized the meeting of the darker members of the Nick and Natpack in her chosen headquarters of the prop room. "Ladies, from what Laila has conveyed to us," she nodded in respect to her dark sister. "It is now known to us that Nick - no matter what his decision is, he will be returning to his former state." There was a bunch of murmurs that threatened to creep out the prop room door. "While this is good news , we must ensure that we return the pieces of the object that are in our possession to Nick and the Knighties... All of the pieces. Luckily at least two of those pieces are in the Dark Nick and Natpackers hands now." She nodded to Angela who held the wand tightly in her hand. "However we are going to have to convince the rest of the pack to turn their piece over as well." Marci looked concerned, "Susan is going to be a stickler on this one... She likes LaCroix mortal. She likes to see him taking it in the teeth." "While I love our lighter sister Susan, dearly, we are going to have to come up with a way to convince them to hand over the object." Tammy sighed. While misdirection was the chosen form of deception for a Cousin and Uncle himself, she disliked using it on her N&Npack family. "They will have to continue to believe that Nick will remain mortal only IF he reassembles the object." "How do you suggest we do that?" Stephanie asked, curious to see what the Rogue Cousin would come up with. "A little applied psychology..." Tammy smiled malevolently, then her face became thoughtful. "We should also prepare for the consequences. Marci, I need you to round up even romantic, soulful movie you can lay your hands on... Princess Bride... Romancing the Stone... Ladyhawke... Wendy, hit the convenience stores... We're going to need chocolate and lots of it. Don't let them," Tammy motioned to the door, "see you bringing it back though. Don't want to tip them off!" --------------------- Tammy and Angela approached Soul and Susan with very serious looks on their faces. "Soul, we need to talk to you." Angela spoke first, while the Rogue Cousin maintained a mask of cold indifference. "Sure... Shoot!" Soul was curious and slightly worried. Neither of the N&Npackers looked happy. "We've decided that we can't return the objects to Nick." Angela continued. The shocked looks on both Soul and Susan's face screamed their distress. "We're Dark N&Npackers and we want Nick to bring Natalie across and maybe if he becomes a vampire again and none of the other ex-vampires come back across. Well, maybe he'll be lonely enough to -do the deed-!" Soul took a few moments to gather herself, "He might just be lonely enough to walk into the SUN!" Tammy arched an eyebrow, "A calculated risk." "I thought you didn't care HOW they got together, as long as they did!" Susan glared at the Dark N&Npacker. "After careful thought and consideration, I have decided that an opportunity like this does not come up every War. When it does, one must pounce. My leanings have always been much darker than light, he MUST accept who he is and what he has done. Mortality will not cleanse Nick of the guilt that he feels, so what is the point." Tammy stood stalk still, emulating the master of manipulation. "And you're going along with this?" Soul asked Angela. Angela nodded, "If he's mortal, the story ends. They win. I don't want the story to end." "What about LaCroix... If you do this Tammy, he remains mortal..." Susan grinned. This would be the chink in her dark sister's armour. "Oh, the mileage I can get out of that... The -Bogus Master-!" Tammy's visage didn't even flinch, "Sacrifices must be made. LaCroix would agree. Besides he will find another way back. He is quite able to take care of himself." Soul searched the Rogue Cousin's face, searching for a way to convince her. Then it dawned on the leader like the sunrise at the end of Last Knight. "What about Nat? Do you think she'd approve of your methods? You would be taking the choice away from all those ex-vampires. They chose to be what they are, you aren't even going to allow them a chance. The chance that Nick will change them all back. What did Nat say, 'I don't have the right to make those kind of decisions'" "She doesn't approve of my beliefs, why should I care if she approves of my methods." Tammy allowed her voice to crumble a little. Soul realized Tammy was referring to what Natalie had said to her the previous night. "Forget Nat... What about Tasha?" Susan jumped on this path, remembering that Tammy still carried the rose that her dopple character had given her. "Would she approve? She found a way to convince her Nick, why wouldn't our Nat. I think she'd feel that you didn't think as much of her... Nat... Them... Whatever." Tammy almost growled at the leaders. Then she spoke to Angela, "They're right." Then she turned her attention back to Soul, "Promise me you won't give Nick a push in any direction... It must be his choice." Soul nodded. Tammy held out her object to Soul who took it, gratefully. Angela looked stricken, but then handed over the element with some hesitation. "I don't want it to end." "Perhaps it will, perhaps it won't..." Tammy said thoughtfully, "Just remember Ang... All good things must come to an end." The hair on the back of Soul and Susan's neck stood on end at that moment. Something picked at the back of their minds, but they brushed it away. "Let's get these pieces back to the Knighties and Nick... Post haste..." Soul looked thoughtful. "Tammy, would you like to come, just to be certain that we don't push in either direction." Tammy nodded, "That would be appreciated." Soul and Susan set to the task of gathering the others for the return. ------------------ Comments to tabby_katt@technowizards.net From - Sun Aug 29 00:05:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KwBJ-0004cF-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:03:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9897; Sat, 28 Aug 99 23:57:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5346; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:57:02 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 20:58:57 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: All Good Things (1/2) X-To: mclisa@mindspring.com To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2d40d3a6c5b96a8728c8725fa458f3b8 All Good Things (01/02) War 10 Premise Closing Post Posts for the war will continue through Sunday August 29th 1999. FKWarlock Toronto, On the roof of the Loft 11:50 EST - Saturday, August 28th 1999 Nick took in a deep breath as he stepped out onto the roof of the loft. The past two weeks of adventure had been a drain on him in far too many ways. The full moon lit the area almost like the daylight which he had enjoyed earlier that day. When his eyes moved over the outline of the summer house, they closed with the realization that he would not be enjoying it in the warmth of the sun for a long time, if ever. Stepping forward, he walked between the benches and out onto into the plaza. Crossing to the shallow steps, he paused as he reached the top. Turning he looked back over the empty plaza and thought of the group below who were waiting and the obvious fun they had here during the daylight hours. He waited patiently for any sign that they had followed. They had objected to his going alone, but in the end had recognized his fear for their safety -- given the prospect of what was to come and what had transpired almost two weeks ago on this very roof top. Satisfied that they were at least being stealthy enough for him not to detect them, he turned and moved along the walkway. Pausing between the first two bubbling fountains, he thoughts turned to security cameras... Turning to what he assumed would be the right direction, he drew his finger politely across his throat to hopefully signal that he preferred not to have an audience. Waiting a few more moments, he realized that he would probably not know if they had complied or not. Or if cameras has been even on in the first place. He stared at the water as it bubbled down and gently caused the lilies to bob up and down. Shaking his head as if to break the hypnotic power of the fountain, he moved to the center of the cruciform area between the four fountains. He had carried the elements in a small bag and now gently set it on the pavement. Reaching in he pulled out two of the elements and straightened up to make one final examination. So close... Yet so far... How those particular words struck to close to home at that very moment. For a moment he simply gripped the elements before resolving his disappointment. He matched up the markings of the two elements, and was surprised to watch them meld into one piece. He looked into the bag and back at his hand, once again wondering if he was doing the right thing. Mortality. The cost to him would have been great, but the others... Reluctantly, and knowing they had offered their pieces, he reached in and continued the process without stopping. "Haven't you forgotten something?" Concentrating on the almost completed staff, he jumped when he heard the voice behind him. Whirling around he wasn't overly surprised to find LaCroix sitting patiently on the far bench. "Come to gloat?" Nick asked, looking between LaCroix and the staff as he finished the last element before focusing his attention on his master. LaCroix slowly rose to his feet and walked to the edge of the fountain nearest him. Hands clasped behind his back, he spoke over his shoulder as the moonlight played off the water and over his face. "It was a long time ago, when it happened. Long enough that I had almost forgotten myself. If you had come to me and asked, I would have told you the whole truth." "You mean your version of the truth?" Nick replied angrily as he saw LaCroix smile. "Yes, I suppose you could say my version. How many others do you have available that had been there?" LaCroix inquired, lifting his arms to gesture around the empty roof top. "Ah, I thought not." He finally said, dropping his arms to his sides as he turned and walked around Nick. "You finally have what you wished for and now you must give it back. Kind of ironic don't you agree?" He added with apparent amusement. "All this time..." Nick began, feeling a rage growing, "all this time, you knew it was possible." "Oh yes, quite possible, but then again, is it really something to look ... forward to? Can you really tell me that you have enjoyed yourself?" Nick stayed silent, calming the rising storm as he watched LaCroix move as he spoke. "I mean, *really* Nicholas. Witnessing the interesting examples shown by some, have undoubtedly led you to reflect on those of the many." LaCroix said, stopping in front of a fountain. "Now, others, who may have been in search of a cure will realize how futile it really is." Frowning, Nick looked down at the staff in his hands, his knuckles turning white as he gripped it. It would be so easy to simply toss it over the wall just to spite LaCroix... Too easy... The surge of anger was replaced by a calm resolve as he looked up. "An example is something to follow, not something to defraud someone." He said quietly. LaCroix sighed as he studied the man before him. Even as a mortal he could sense the determination in his eyes without the keen senses he had used in the past. "Very well," LaCroix said with a gesture of dismissal, turning and walking toward the elevator. "But remember this Nicholas, it is not the benefactors that profit, but the merchant who sells them his wares. Oh, and I almost forgot..." Reaching into his coat, LaCroix made a show of pulling out a round object and tossing it at Nick. Without thinking, Nick grabbed the ball. It felt very cold in his hands as his fingers moved over the etched symbols on its surface. "You will need that I'm afraid." LaCroix mused. "Oh, and nice catch. My but how the hour draws late. Let me know what you decide to do, I think it is time to take a walk in the moonlight and ponder what has happened. Don't you? Choose carefully Nicholas." Not waiting for an answer, LaCroix moved off to leave Nick standing alone, studying the ball in his hands. Turning it over, he found an indentation on one side that seemed large enough for the staff. Belatedly looking up, he realized LaCroix had finally left him alone, although for what reason he could not fathom. Then it hit him. "It was a long time ago..." LaCroix's words came back to him again. Looking up to where LaCroix had been standing, he looked back at the ball in his hands. Could it be? Had he been there? Thoughts of what he may have seen flashed across Nick's mind, making him suddenly shiver at the legends. No, whatever this ball, or sphere, or whatever the heck it was -- it was something that undoubtedly would give his master something at Nick's expense. But how LaCroix could benefit by sabotaging the outcome was beyond him. No, he wouldn't have sabotaged it. Far from it. The ball he now held must be the last key that would be needed to give LaCroix back what he most wanted. Something he would have been keen on delivering himself. Walking to the center of the cruciform area, Nick set the staff on end and placed the ball on top of it. Instantly the staff bonded to the roof and the ball settled onto it, causing Nick to back off a few paces as he watched. Slowly the ball began to spin in a clockwise rotation, smoothly rotating in the moonlight. A small fold opened followed by another as it began to pick up speed. Nick watched in fascination as his ears picked up a growing whine and he stepped back further. ------------- LaCroix was taking his time, walking down the street, patiently waiting. He smiled to himself, wondering if Nicholas would follow through. He had seen the results of those who had not. The ball of energy found him as he passed a brick wall. The momentum of the collision drove him hard against the bricks, causing the mortar to crack around him. His body rigid as the energies enveloped him, his eyes rolled back as he collapsed to the ground, a smile still framed on his lips. ------------- The crow landed on the garden wall nearest Nick. Sprawled in the flower bed, he seemed to be watching the sky. Turning its head back and forth, the bird waited until it was sure. Hopping down, it kept hopping until it was looming over to the discarded staff and picked it up in its beak. Any witnesses would have been surprised at the power the bird showed as it took to the air, easily carrying the staff with it. To Be Continued ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 29 00:15:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KwIT-0006CR-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:10:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8004; Sun, 29 Aug 99 00:01:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6348; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:01:20 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:02:15 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: UF: The Sticky Remote or Who Spilled the Honey? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d538ebd3b68fb3fec82840f4ac2457a1 WAR: UF: The Sticky Remote or Who Spilled the Honey? (1/1) BY: Cousin Shelley TIME: Late Thursday-very early Friday (Aug. 28 & 29) after the Circle celebration LOCATION: The Hive, UF headquarters "Popcorn, Diet Pepsi, liquor, potato chips, chocolate, pork rinds, honey sticks ... and various goodies and baddies in there." Shelley motioned to the velvety-furnished room where several UFfers waited. "I think that's everything." "Great, let's go." April helped tote all the fat and calories the two could carry. Just as they were spreading everything out onto a low table, Leslie walked in. "Hey, can we see it?" Susan jumped up from the couch. "It's not on your butt, is it?" "Who are you talking to? Would someone like me get a tattoo in a place like that?" The whole room broke up, then ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the lightning bolt that zapped up her spine and over her right shoulder. "Hey, that's nice," said Debi. "One of the nicer I've seen." "You know, it reminds me of when I was 5 and my best friend and I used to pretend we were superheroes who could throw lightning bolts." Shelley examined the artwork more closely. "So does it make you feel like Wonder Woman?" She nudged her friend, who nudged her back. "No, more like Zeus." Leslie plopped next to April on the long couch and ran her fingers through the front of her hair. "Good boy," Laurey said, as she and Tyb came back from their walk. The dog, smelling chow, settled in for the duration as his owner joined Shelley and Megan on the floor in front of Les', April's and Susan's feet. "Hey, creepy, you're just in time." Shelley turned as she patted the Schipperke's head. "And hello to you too, Tybalt." Laurey popped her with the back of her hand. As Tyb munched the crisp pig skin Shelley gave him, several people cringed at the loud crackling sounds. 'Chele said, "Okay, what are we going to watch first?" "Curiouser and Curiouser!" Debi shouted. Leslie piped up. "Ashes to Ashes!" "Sons of Belial," Laurey said as she grabbed the bag of pork rinds from Shelley, whose chewing was at least as loud as Tybalt's. She grabbed the chips from Megan as well. "And while we're watching, guys, do you think you could stick to *quiet* foods?" Megan pointed to Cleo. "Hey, her jewelry clinkin' together is making at *least* as much noise as we were." Cleo, who sat cross-legged on the divan, stuck out her tongue. "Hey, I know," Susan yelled, startling April who sat beside her on the couch. Everyone knew what she was going to say and screamed with her: "Father's Day!" The group laughed and someone threw popcorn in Susan's direction. Amie stood next to the VCR, waiting for a decision on which to watch first, then finally just popped one in without reading the label. She smiled and got comfortable in an overstuffed chair next to Cleo. "Pass me the popcorn--I'll chew very softly," she added, as she noticed Laurey's trademark hairy eyeball directed her way. A flying piece of fur with lopped ears attached itself to Shelley as she was trying to sneak a piece of chocolate into her mouth. "Clifford!" Cleo peeled her pet off the startled woman. "Sorry, he does that with potato chips, too." Another flash of fur, and this time Presence hopped up. "Myranae, no no kitty." The cat and the rabbit consoled each other after their chiding. Shelley passed the chocolate to Megan, deciding that maybe being rushed and attacked by a bunny rabbit and a kitty over chocolate might be some kind of sign. She sipped her Diet Pepsi and sighed. Frightened animals dove for cover, as the assembled humans shouted at once, as the episode started. "The Fix!" The happy UFfers, still wired from the Circle celebration (and one from being punctured repeatedly and injected with various color inks), settled in to watch the cherished Unnamed episode and the several others that would follow. A few shows later, eyes were droopy even during one of *the* most Unnamed episodes, 'Father's Day'. No one wanted to turn it off, and no one really wanted to go to sleep, despite the time. Susan was the first to drift off, and to dream. End Cousin Shelley netbus1@hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 29 00:30:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KwWM-0005CP-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:24:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0034; Sun, 29 Aug 99 00:07:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7141; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:07:43 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 21:09:38 PDT Reply-To: ForeverKnight Warlock Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: All Good Things (2/2) X-To: mclisa@mindspring.com To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 37cc74500019db9c667617bdd1be838f All Good Things (02/02) War 10 Premise Close Post Dukat smiled as he flung the doors open. It was a glorious day indeed, knowing that he had won the wager. There was no way the young man could complete the puzzle without the last piece. He himself had looked for it long ago and given up. Even now, he mused, the vampire was rising to show his true nature. The fireplace held a roaring fire as he saw his old friend standing in front of it. Undoubtedly sulking in defeat. Then his eyes saw the cane he was leaning on as he studied the fire. Slowly the figure turned to face him while still leaning on the staff. The look on LaCroix's face was one of pure satisfaction. "But..." Dukat started, shock still resounding through him. "Let me guess. You thought you knew the whole story and even thought you knew of the icon." LaCroix said as he walked around Dukat and moved behind a large desk. Gently, he laid the staff across the desk and sat down to study Dukat's look of shock, even now fading as he managed to recover. Steepling his fingers under his chin, LaCroix leaned back in the chair. "I see you played with a loaded deck." Dukat finally said as his eyes moved up to meet LaCroix's. "The only loaded deck I know of is the one that cost you your name." LaCroix said evenly. Dukat stiffened noticeably at the remark, frowning at the memory. Suddenly smiling he waved the issue away. "What is in a name anyway. He won the hand and that was all that was important. How was I to know he had taken to that space show." LaCroix stayed silent as he watched Dukat recover. "A bet is a bet. And you won. Perhaps next time, we double the stakes...." Dukat offered with the false friendliness of the chaos demon that he was. "No, I think next time you will learn that I never bluff." LaCroix said evenly, giving no hint as to the glee he felt at fleecing the demon. Dukat simply shrugged and moved toward the door, taking it in his hand as he began to close it behind him. Pausing as if in deep thought Dukat turned back once again. "Do I really look like a Cardassian to you?" LaCroix smiled as his visitor close the door, leaving him alone once again. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a cigar, bit off the end and unceremoniously spit it off into the fire. Pulling out a lighter, he flipped it open and held it to the end while waiting for the cigar to catch. Placing it back in his jacket he sat back and blew smoke at the ceiling. The smoke swirled up into the air, rising until it met the ceiling before flattening out and rolling across the surface. In the chair, LaCroix's skin began to shift, his fingers becoming slender and his hair growing out and turning black. Gregor stepped through the door and closed it behind him. Walking over he looked down as Dru blew smoke rings at the ceiling. "Are we happy now?" He said, gently lifting the staff as if testing its weight. "Happy? Never." She said, rocking forward and snatching it from his hands in one fluid motion. Walking around the desk, she unceremoniously broke the staff in two and tossed it on the fire, watching it catch and begin to burn. Gregor moved to stand next to her, almost feeling the pain she felt. "All these years..." she said softly, tossing the cigar into the flames. "Remembering who was there, studying the mind images, reliving every moment." "It's over Dru. You can't bring him back." Gregor said carefully, knowing the fury she could demonstrate when pushed too far. "Over three hundred guests, armed guards, and staff... And it was a vagrant who took the icon." she said sadly, closing her eyes. Throwing her head back she yelled at the ceiling "A DAMN VAGRANT!!!" Gregor waited for the storm to pass, and avoided looking at her as she composed herself. "At least we had some fun once we found it." She said, wiping the tears away. Gregor dared a glance as he saw her smile at the flames. "Even had some entertainment. Mortals, could you believe it? They have no idea what its like." Her voice was as soft as it ever was. Reaching over, Gregor gently took her hand as he pulled her away from the fire and they walked toward the door. "Come," he said. "It's time to go enjoy ourselves for once." Pulling her sunglasses out, Dru put them on and adjusted her jacket. "Yes, I agree. Shall we go see the results? The next few days should be interesting to say the least..." Leaving him to close the door, Gregor took a long last look at the glowing embers in the fire. Eight hundred and some odd years and it still seemed like yesterday. All it had taken was a simple mind trick. Reliving the moments over and over, identifying each witness and probable suspect. Research and more research and then it had been by simple and complete accident. Passing through the club, she had seen him. Recognized him. And then it had all made sense. Searching through relatives, museums, estates, nothing had shown up. An immortal would have held on to it tightly, especially if he had seen what had occurred. They had eliminated any thought of vampires being at the celebration, given the changes that had occurred. The only trick was how to get it from him. Mentioning it more as a joke than as a reality, she had stopped cold in her tracks when he had mentioned the Chaos demons. Who else could pull it off. Even if they didn't realize the true nature of the ploy, it would work. Smiling at the simple plan that had worked so eloquently, Gregor closed the door and moved to follow Dru. ------------------- Behind them, Dukat stepped out and watched them. Smiling, he turned as the others joined him. Holding out his hand, palm up, he waited patiently as the others paid off their bets. "I told you..." he said with satisfaction. Placing the contents in his coat, he walked triumphantly down the hall, walking with a jump to his step for the first time in almost a century. "And I told *you*, he was more like a Ferengi than a Cardassian, I mean really..." Garak said with a frown as he moved to follow. Nagus simply went along, defeat having drained his urge to gamble for at least a few moments. "Oh and another thing, the next time we gamble names, and you win, *I* get to pick the new ones. I mean really, Cardassians? Do I look like a Cardassian to you?" "Oh leave me alone..." Nagus moaned. The End. Or is it? -------- Posting of the conversion will continue for the next day. We hope you enjoy it. Many things have happened during this war. Most of it was fun. Some wasn't. Left to their own devices, several participants chose to cause friction, jumping at the first chance they could to complain and pick. Some couldn't give a simple idea or two a chance when it would have been easy to say okay, if it helps let's go with it. To those who played for fun, worked around the problems and generally enjoyed themselves, we thank you for your participation. It was not entirely the way we wanted it to go, but then -- as one philosopher put it, "Death IS in the details..." To Dru, for her help and assistance, I am eternally (no pun intended) thankful. To McLisa and Don, We would like to say a special thank you for your constant council, understanding and patience. Having spend considerable time exchanging ideas, and working to put out flames, we offer a golden pair of fire helmets that are guaranteed to keep you kewl under pressure. Without their expert advice and thoughtfulness, it would have been difficult to deal with many of the issues that came up. Now to address an issue that came up late in the war, but began early. Nick's Harem. Contrary to what we understand some people who took our notes to mean, and from various notes we have had sent to us, the Harem members are a nice, fun, and enjoyable group of people to associate with. We are not going to put any one faction or another above or below any other faction that participated in this war, as it is not a case of one hurting or helping more than any other. But we feel that somehow we came across as implying they were something bad that they were not. We believe we owe the Harem and several other factions or members thereof an apology. We believed we could work out something to make everyone happy. And at that we seemingly have failed. Perhaps it was in the wording. Perhaps we understood something that was murky to others. We have had instances where things we took for granted were completely turned around to mean something else and portrayed to be what we meant in the first place. I guess for that we do apologize. We can't control things that we can't control. We can simply try to work to better things for everyone. Patience is a virtue and we try to be virtuous. Every individual that we have had the pleasure to meet within the Forever Knight fandom has been kind, friendly and a joy to work with. In particular it was fun to watch factions grow and form, toss around ideas and prepare to have even more fun in the wars to come. Each faction we have dealt with has contributed greatly to the war cause, even when things appeared to be confusing, they all worked together. All newer factions, and we use that term very loosely as several members of most new factions have participated with others in past wars, they, as we, had to learn the ropes and rules that come with any war. We also learned to work together to compromise and enjoy the various posts. Unfortunately, it appears that some people have more of a tendency to read something into things that we have posted, rather than simply misunderstanding, that have led to several avoidable incidents. This in turn has led a very nice person who happens to be our list mistress to become irritated and angry. We are very fortunate to have the people we have as list mistress and gardener, and it is unfortunate that they became irritated by the various situation that occurred. Now as many are probably firing up responses, we do not mean that others in any other faction, or non aligned individuals were nasty, irritating or troublesome. Most were very helpful and fun to work with. Every faction and individual involved in the war did make an attempt, and everyone seemingly succeeded, to work together to coordinate, plan and execute posts that added quite a bit of fun to the war. We realize, perhaps more-so now, that the old saying (and please, we quote loosely) "You can make some of the people happy some of the time, but not all the people all the time." is more true than we ever imagined. Perhaps what happened during this war, was what was needed. Perhaps not. But in the end, things will forever be changed. Conduct that occurred by a handful of participants has caused a great deal of disgust, anger and even a disturbing realization that some people enjoy being bullies. When we were generic and were accused of pointing fingers, perhaps it was a guilty conscience speaking when replies exploded into our mail. We try to be generic as much as possible to allow things to move on. For the majority of participants who worked with what they had to work with, who spent considerable time crafting posts that we enjoyed, our hats are off the most to you. In the Navy, at least years ago, they used to conduct leadership tests where sailors were placed in a submarine that was lowered into a shallow pool, but in which they thought they were deep in the ocean. Disasters were unleashed upon them to see how they handled stress and catastrophe. It became clear quite quickly who would panic and who would work to fix things. In a way that may have been what happened during this war. We know that when time as gone by and we look back, it will be the posters who worked with what they had that will be remembered the most by us. The others? Well, you figure it out. Oh, and one last point of eternal amusement to us, at least when things were getting a bit rough, when sending hate mail, make sure you use a spell checker. Sometimes words of hate can become more of an uplifting post than the poster initially intended. And finally, for Brandon's benefit, and I suspect he would enjoy it: The Warlock closed his book of spells and placed it high on the shelf. The day was done, and he was tired. Blowing out the candle, he made his way through the darkness and into the night. Thanks Brandon. Probably no more to come, FKWarlock ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 29 00:40:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kwfi-0005U2-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:34:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6903; Sun, 29 Aug 99 00:28:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8385; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:28:15 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 23:27:25 -0500 Reply-To: Amy Reed Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Amy Reed Subject: War: Harem: PTDs and Gateways To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cd58e7bc507bb9034e3a0eef2439ba70 Title: War: Harem: PTDs and Gateways by: Randora and Amethyst, Wives #1 & 2 Date: August 20, 1999 Time: Early that morning Note: Dru, Wives, Alt Nick and FK Dogs used with permission. Extra note: The post with the Harem withdrawing, has become a dream. Randora suddenly awakened from a very nasty dream in which people had been trying to convince her that she wasn't really married to Nicholas. At the end she seemed to remember going into the hotel and departing from a War of some kind. 'Maybe I got into the punch without realizing it,' she thought to herself. She quickly went to seek out Amethyst and tell her of her dream. She found her in her office, piled on the black pillows with the dogs, holding an ice pack to her punched nose Cinder raised her head, Grey aroooooed at her. "Hush, guys. What's up?" Amethyst questioned as she removed the ice pack from her punched nose. "It's just me I had a horrible dream," Randora said. Then told Amethyst of her dream and the security system. "Maybe we should use the PTD to get a system like that!" Amethyst replied. "That's what I was thinking. Sometimes my dreams try to tell me something. Maybe we should listen," Randora said. "Do you think there is a war going on?" Amethyst asked rising from the pillow pile, remembering the mustard and cheese bomb under her van . . . Patt will pay for that! Randora looked worried, "I hope not, but we might want to be ready if there is." "Okay so use that PTD thing and get us a system!" Amethyst suggested. Randora nodded, brought it out and holding it in her hand she said, "I want a state-of-the-art, absolute impenetrable security system for the Harem headquarters and all of the grounds around it belonging to the Harem." The words were barely out of her mouth when a flock of fan fic fairies appeared. They flitted over the property, then vanished. A few minutes later they reappeared and before you could count to ten, the security system was in place and activated. All the fan fic fairies disappeared. All, that is, except one. The tiny being held out his hand for the now expended PTD. Randora handed it to him with her thanks. In a blink the little fellow was gone. Randora looked at Amethyst, "Think that will do it?" "As long as it gets turned on!" Amethyst said half-jokingly. "You have a point there. I think for now, you and I will keep the codes to ourselves until we find out what's going on." Randora found a slip of paper that had been dropped by the little fan fic fairy and saw that it had the alarm codes and instructions on it. Together she and Amethyst went over it. Harlee suddenly began to growl a low warning. Amethyst's head jerked up from the codes. "What?" Suddenly a woman appeared in the doorway. "Who are you?" Randora asked. "Doesn't matter. You want to see your precious husband again?" the woman responded. "What do you mean? Where's Nick?" Randora asked concerned. "Come with me, I'll show you," the woman said mysteriously heading for the elevator. Randora and Amethyst followed as the woman led them to Nick's suite. There she made a motion with her hand and opened the door. There was a flash of lights and a swirl of mist, thorough the mist a familiar figure emerged. "Nick?" Amethyst asked " Is that you? but I thought you were . . .?" Nick swept Amethyst into his arms for a kiss. Dru said, "It is a gateway between realms. It will only be open for a short while, then he will return once more to his own world." Nick slowly released Amethyst and spotted Randora, the woman he first married when he had been in this realm over 10 years ago. As Randora cuddled with her husband, she asked, "What do you mean, realms?" "Wait!" Amethyst pulled out her PTD "I know what to use this thing for now!! I want the Wives and any guest or guests we chose to be able to come and go through the gateway anytime we please. Whether in War or Peace time." "There is one small restriction. During War times Nicholas may not enter this realm unless TPTB allow it," Dru quickly added. Randora and Amethyst exchanged looks, "I think we can live with that, if we can go to him and interact with him there. Even during a War," they said at the same time. They looked at each other a moment and in unison said, "That was scary." They were so busy cuddling Nick to them, they didn't notice when the mysterious woman vanished. "Ladies, please have seat," he said motioning toward the chairs in the corner of the massive suite. As Randora and Amethyst took the seats Nick began pacing, "I assume you have discovered that *I* am the Nick you met and married a few years ago. This universe's Nick doesn't recognize you as wives does he?" The women looked at Nick then each other. "That might explain why he gave me a pair of Raybans (TM) last night for my non-smoking anniversary," Randora mused. Nick looked at her, "He gave you a pair of sunglasses? Doesn't he know you can only wear perscription sunglasses?" "I guess not," she replied. "I did think it odd at the time." "I guess we were so busy we didn't notice. He was as kind and caring as always. Especially when Patt punched me!" Amethyst replied. Nick knelt beside Amethyst, as he looked at her face, he noticed the bruising that was beginning to appear around her eyes. "I'm sorry, Amethyst, I didn't notice that until now. Are you all right?" The concern was clearly written on his face. "I'm fine, Nick, really. . . but my van .... they . . . there's . . . Mustard and Cheese bomb under . . . and it's ALL Patt's FAULT!" Nick laughed, then apologized. "I know you hate mustard, and cheese doesn't like you." His concern seemed to lessen after he had checked her nose. He gently kissed her cheek and continued, "I'm sorry it's just the thought of a bomb of mustard and cheese." He lowered his head so she wouldn't see that he was still smiling about it. *** Footnote: The Harem does not know about the War at this time. No one has told them about it yet. YFITK, Amy Dark Knightie; GWDFC; B.R.I.C.K. Number-One-Wife & Listowner of Nick's Harem of Wives Listowner: FK-XStitcher -- "Cross-Stitcher of the Knight" fknight@acnet.net fknight@cyberweb.org - TexDKnght (IRC) Forever Knight Web Site: http://forever-knight.virtualave.net My Football page: http://members.tripod.com/~ReedStuff/nfl From - Sun Aug 29 05:23:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KwzY-0005vn-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:54:56 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0192; Sun, 29 Aug 99 00:52:42 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0188; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:52:42 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:53:38 -0400 Reply-To: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Organization: @Home Network Member Subject: War: GSS: The Reclaiming of the Couch (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b5a676b77bb0fdcc17af59ef73efe970 War: GSS: The Reclaiming of the Couch (1/2) Time: Tuesday the 24th, 10:13PM Location: Harem HQ By: Jade Ashekevron (Agent Silver) and Jennifer Okerlund (Agent Ice), with input from Amy Reed (Randora) After: GSS: Strange Deliveries Participants: Jennifer (Agent Ice), Jade (Agent Silver), Bob (Agent Phantom) Everyone used with permission. The large, dark blue van with "Marc's Florist" decals on the sides pulled up across the street from an old, distinguished looking hotel. The three occupants of the vehicle synchronized their watches and stepped out onto the dark street. They walked around to the back of the van and opened the door. Jennifer climbed inside and then re-emerged, with what appeared to be a man following her. "It's incredible how much he looks like the real thing," Jade remarked. "And acts practically the same too." Bob commented, looking at the robot before him. "Nicky-bot, meet your new home." Jennifer said with a smile to the ACRN 3000 (Use your imagination on the acronym.). "It's amazing what that ACME company can do." "Yeah, I use them all the time." Bob said as he pulled a black duffel bag out of the van and slung it over his shoulder. "I hope they are fooled by him... I sure did go through a lot of trouble programming him to act just like Nick." Agent Ice said as she closed the van doors. Bob leaned over to Jade and whispered, "No, she didn't. She just sat him down in front of her collection of FK tapes and made him watch." "Hey, I heard that." Ice gave him a look before going on. "Okay, here's the plan. We send Robo-Nick to the door, where he provides a distraction while we sneak in through the back and retrieve the couch. Everyone got it?" "Got it." Silver and Phantom said simultaneously. Ice turned to the robot, "Robo-Nick, go to the front door of that building and distract the people inside like you've been instructed. Make sure that they are distracted for a full half an hour." "Yes, my master," the robot replied and crossed the street towards the hotel. "*Master*?" Bob raised an eyebrow. "Okay, now I know you've been hanging around LaCroix too much." Bob said. "Hey, I programmed him. I can have him call me what I want, can't I?" Ice said with an evil gleam in her eyes. Bob rolled his eyes and checked his headset. The three of them watched as Nick-bot walked up the steps to the entrance of the building and rang the bell. The door opened and they saw an ecstatic wife let him in. "All right, Silver, you and Bob go around through the stables and find that back entrance. I'm going to go around the opposite side and make *sure* that no one else is here," Agent Ice told the other two black-clad agents. They nodded simultaneously, almost cracking heads as they turned towards each other. Ice moved stealthily across the lawn, intent on meeting the two other agents at the back. As she rounded the corner of the building, she pulled out her dart gun (TM) and kept close to the wall. On the other side of the building, Silver and Bob were being equally stealthy as they crept along under the windowsills towards the back of the sprawling hotel. Suddenly, Silver stopped, holding up a hand for Bob to halt his progress behind her. Unfortunately, Bob had his eyes intent on the ground and didn't notice, thereby walking straight into Jade, which caused her to lose her balance and both of them to end up in a heap on the cold ground. "Hey!" Jade whispered as she pushed his foot out of her face. "Would you stop thrashing please?! I think I heard something." Bob sat (well, sorta) absolutely still, listening for what Silver was talking about. His eyes brightened as he heard it too. "Sounds like talking!" he whispered back, and Silver nodded. The two untangled themselves and walked quietly over to the nearest window. They lifted their eyes over the edge to see if they could find where the sound was coming from. Through the window, the two agents could see several forms rushing around, and it was their voices that they heard. Both smiled as they also recognized the tones of the Nicky-bot they had released on the Harem. So, their plan was working! Back on the other side of the hotel, Jennifer surveyed the grounds of the HQ. "Team blue to team red. Anything on your end? Over." She whispered into the headset. "Team red to team blue. Diversion and Divertees are heading upstairs. Over." Came Bob's voice. "Good," came Ice's voice in reply. "I'll meet you at the back entrance. Over and out." "Yeah, same to you," Bob mumbled as he clicked the mouthpiece off. Silver stifled a laugh as the two continued on their way. [Continued in Part 2] From - Sun Aug 29 05:23:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kwzg-0005wS-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:55:05 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6991; Sun, 29 Aug 99 00:52:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0204; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:52:47 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:53:41 -0400 Reply-To: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jennifer K. Okerlund" Organization: @Home Network Member Subject: War: GSS: The Reclaiming of the Couch (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 56bcca3ff7a4123ba29139b0ebf77d4a War: GSS: The Reclaiming of the Couch (2/2) Time: Tuesday the 24th, 10:13PM Location: Harem HQ By: Jade Ashekevron (Agent Silver) and Jennifer Okerlund (Agent Ice), with input from Amy Reed (Randora) After: GSS: Strange Deliveries Participants: Jennifer (Agent Ice), Jade (Agent Silver), Bob (Agent Phantom) Everyone used with permission. Jade made it to the corner first, pulling out her dart gun (TM) as she peered around in the darkness, trying to locate the stable. "Ah ha!" she whispered, and motioned to Bob to join her. "Okay. Stables over there - " she pointed " - and that means that path should lead directly to the back entrance." Phantom nodded and, true to his name, ghosted across the deserted yard towards the path. Jade followed behind, keeping an eye out for any wayward Wives who might interfere with their plans. Bob reached the door first, standing beside it and pulling out a penlight. "Okay, I'll hold this, you pick the lock," he told Silver, who nodded and moved into position, pulling a little black bag out of her pocket. She stilled her hands just short of the doorknob, tiny silver instruments glinting in the light. "Are you sure there is no electronic alarm system?" she asked, glancing warily at the door frame. One slight touch could set it off - *if* there was one. Ice chose that moment to appear behind the two agents causing them both to jump. "Don't *do* that!" Silver exclaimed as the two startled agents turned to face their leader. Silver bumped into the door with her elbow, causing it to swing inward slowly. Ice looked past them at the now-open door. "Ummm... I think it's unlocked." Silver and Bob whirled around to see the door slowly moving open on its well-oiled hinges. "Oh. Well, I guess that means no alarm system..." Silver looked innocently at Bob and Ice. The three agents cautiously went through the door, ever careful not to set off any traps. They made their way through the hall and into the lobby where the couch was located. Ice spotted her precious piece of furniture and the three of them began to make their way towards it. They heard a noise and stopped. Turning around the agents spotted four dogs staring at them. Quickly, Bob opened the duffel bag, releasing its contents onto the floor in front of the puzzled dogs. Eight robotic squirrels immediately began running across the bare marble floor, heading back the way the agents had come. Three of the dogs went wild, chasing after the fast creatures, occasional barks coming from the group as they disappeared from sight. The fourth dog started towards the agents. "Uh-oh," Jade said as she looked at the medium sized dog. The dog, which appeared to be an Australian Cattle Dog, looked at the agents and then in the direction of the squirrels. It apparently couldn't decide weather to go after the three of them or the squirrels. 'Please don't start barking. Please don't start barking.' Ice thought over and over. The last thing they needed was the whole harem coming downstairs to see what was going on. The dog jumped back and forth until finally she ran yipping excitedly after the squirrels. Ice breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that was close," Jade whispered. "A little too close." Bob said. Jennifer sniffed the air. "What's that smell?" She looked at Bob and Jade. Ice sniffed again, "It smells like... Peaches!" As she neared the couch the sent grew stronger. The smell apparently was emanating from the couch itself. "Okay, someone's going to pay for this." Jade and Bob exchanged glances. Bob moved to one side of the couch, preparing to lift it. Ice moved to the other side and grabbed a hold of it. Jade watched, pinching her nose to block out the fumes from the couch. Ice and Bob lifted the couch and began to make their way to the door that they came in from, stopping only once as the squirrels and dogs raced by, still yipping away. Silver opened the door for Phantom and Ice and they headed out into the night air. The agents rounded a corner and heard a car pull up. They quickly ducked behind a hedge with the couch. Peering through the leaves they watched as two women got out of the back seat wearing black, gold, and silver pantsuits- apparently uniforms. A man wearing a dark suit climbed out of the driver's seat and closed the door. They watched as the three people walked up the path, making their way towards them. They walked on by, apparently heading towards a back entrance. As they passed, the agents heard one of the women remark, "Do you smell peaches?" The other two just shrugged and kept walking, much to the agents' relief. They waited until the hired help was out of sight and earshot and then continued on their way to the van. Jade unlocked the back doors and then opened them for Bob and Jennifer. "Remind me to send this thing out under armed guard to be cleaned when we get it back to the HQ." Ice said as they loaded it. "This thing smells horrible." The agents climbed into the front of the van and Jade started the engine. As they drove away, Ice had a wicked look on her face. That look stayed there... the whole way back to the GSS HQ [fin] From - Sun Aug 29 05:23:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KxgQ-0000uN-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 01:39:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8347; Sun, 29 Aug 99 01:36:54 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1920; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 01:36:54 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 01:38:40 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 06/? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 01a607b2e8a006a729b3e0b18e4577c9 NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 06/? by Patt Elmore When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As Patt swung, her eyes locked with LaCroix's--dim brown suddenly swallowed by lake clear blue. The mature one, adept at bowling, knew the importance of follow-thru. Feet set, she put her considerable weight into the stroke, grip tight on the bottle's neck. Then she released it. Curving past LaCroix's skull, it sailed high. All heads in the barroom turned, watching as it arched and rotated. The bottle flipped several times, the descended. *CLONK* Spark's eyes flew open in stunned amazement as the bottle impacted his forehead. "Whoops," Patt remarked, her grin betraying her. LaCroix looked from Spark to Patt. "Naughty," he commented. Kriel watched as Spark slid to the floor. He turned on the addict, his face furious, his intent obviously being to sample Patt's liver. Standing at the bar, Vachon just shook his head. He finally looked up, offered the mature very-much-addict a small toast, then headed toward the door. He never made it. In attempting to pass by and lead the Vaqs to the left exit, Vachon tripped over something. As he fell, he noticed the small statuette of LaCroix, smiling at him from a black leather boot. As happens in these events, glassware began to break, chairs began to fly, overhead lights began to sag precariously and guttural noises began to dominate all other attempts at conversation. Vachon on the floor was not a good thing. The Vaqueras scrambled to help him up. Kriel, his intent to do bodily harm evident, advanced on the Third Cousin. Patt figured her options were better with distance, and took off running. The GHP turned around from her seat at the bar, ready to draw attention in the story back to her all-important self. She was just in time to notice a flying spittoon headed her way. She shrieked and grabbed a passing Ivy to take the blow. The item-de-spital impacted the young addict's head and she joined the others sleeping in the sawdust. "You fink!" KC shouted at the evil GHP. "That's the best you can come up with?" Laurie gibed at the offensive addict, not moving from her stool. "It is with Patt writing my dialog," the Kissing Cousin sneered back. "If I'd known you were going to be here, I'd have written a snippet which would have pulled your black roots out." "I'm quaking, oh half-baked harbinger of Horror," the Poobah taunted. "What are you going to do---BWHAAAHAA me? Come and get me, you sory excuse for a Satan." Laurie smiled evilly, quite pleased with herself. She'd infiltrated NA so well that here she was, right in the midst of an NA post, a multi-part one at that. What's more, Patt was giving her better dialogue than the Addicts. Sapo grinned as he looked down at the unconscious Spark. "Told you to wear that hardhat, didn't I?" While the chubby construction man was grinning at his fallen companion, a large rat bolted across the floor. Sapo yelped and jumped up. No problem, but his return to the ground shook out several windows and broke the mirror behind the bar. "I'm so sorry about tripping you," Rae exclaimed, joining in as Felicia and Echo brushed off a now standing Vachon. The Spaniard grinned at the worried Vaquera. "No problemo, senorita. Listen, don't worry about me . . . this is your game and you need to have some fun. Get in there and kick some jawbone for the Vaqipper." Rae smiled and saluted. Then, yelling the Vaq War Cry, she plunged into the fray. "Elmore, I'm comin to get you!" "Get in line!" the Third Cousin hollered from somewhere across the impacted floor. "I got a Kriel to deal with right now." The rat suddenly spun, heading back across the busy then- dance-now-fight floor in the direction of the booths. As he did, he passed over a trap door, which just happened to be opening at the time. Four Addict and two doggie heads popped out. "Yep," Glennis confirmed. "These tunnels have brought us to our proper destination once again. This has got to be the place where Patt's at." "Most definitely," Dee agreed. "Where there's a bar fight . . ." ". . . there's a Patt," Christy concluded. Then she frowned. "This sounds an awful lot like some dialog we've already been given -- in past posts." Caren shrugged. She was too busy holding the leashes of Watson and Fred to offer witty repartee. Eventually, she lost the battle; the pull of rat is stronger than the most heavy-duty Flexi . The pups escaped and pursued the fleeing rat. Suddenly, a large set of legs crossed above the four addicts. "OH!" Christy gulped. "I know those thighs." >From above her, Kriel looked down. His expression softened. "Love Bunny," he remarked. Glennis, Caren and Dee gave Christy a strange look. Christy opened her mouth to respond, but Kriel reached down and lifted her before she had a chance. All the three remaining addicts could see now were Christy's swinging legs . . . waaaaaaaaaaaay up there. Patt strained to see through the mass of bodies. "I don't see him charging me. That's scary." "Here," LaCroix offered the woman his bi-focals. Patt blinked from behind her always present glasses. "I have my *tri-focals* on, thank you very much. If you can't tell that, then you *really* need to be wearing those." "Rubbish," the General replied, flinging the offensive spectacles away. "What I really need is this." He reached out and grabbed a passing Cliff, giving the sole Vaquero a head butt. As the Vaq stumbled and fell, LaCroix grinned from behind his already forming forehead bruise. "That was invigorating. I want more." Patt looked at him in shock. She indicated toward the brawling group. "Help yourself." As fate would intervene, that was the moment that Jules and Bonnie decided to come in the left doorway. "Just pretend we're not here," Jules said, leaning back to avoid a flung shot glass. "We just came for pizza," the Scribe announced, feinting a flying Jack Daniels bottle. "Have some beer with it, then," Vaquera Tracy Sue tossed a full pitcher at Bons. "You Shrine buster, you!" Bons shouted at the offending VaqMommy. "I involve you in a most wonderful plot, and you dash it to pieces through your absence. I have a few choice words for you." "With you, the words may be choice, but never few," Tracy Sue retorted. Bons stiffened, glazed over into pre-exorcism phase and cried out like a banshee. The petite redhead flung herself into the surging crowd. "Oh, my," Jules noted as she watched a barefoot Bons disappear into the mass. "I think she had the Jeep keys." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued part 06/? patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sun Aug 29 05:23:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kxws-0007Sn-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 01:56:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8382; Sun, 29 Aug 99 01:53:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2589; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 01:53:55 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 01:47:45 -0400 Reply-To: STEPHANIE A JORDAN Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: STEPHANIE A JORDAN Subject: WAR: knighties:Party hardly (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 259e0c151bf125fc805b88bb940b2d72 *********************** Title: Party Hardly?!?(3/3) By Stephers Jordan Place: The loft Date:sat, Aug. 2th Time around 3 30 4 30 pm Note: heh ************************ Gemsong checked her watch, it had been almost an hour and people had things to do! "When is she going to let us down from here?" Gemsong asked the group. "I don't know, but I'm going to let her have it! I wanted to cook dinner and its going to take a while to make!," Katrinka answered her back. The rest of the Knighties sat around chatting about this and that hoping their kidnapper would let them free soon. Without warning the hatch was opened and an eerie light came from within. "Nancy, Roz you to go first," Zoe said as she stared at the light. Nancy shook her head. "Why us?" "Because you're the Knightie leaders?" Mindy told them. A collective "Oh" came from both of them. "All right, let's go Nancy!" Roz took her arm and they led the way for the Knighties. "One, two, THREE!" Stephanie pulled the lever on the confetti machine while Nick flipped on the lights. "What?!?" Nancy and Roz stopped dead in their tracks causing a domino effect with the rest of the Knighties. Various "Ows" and "Ouches" were heard, but no one was hurt. "Um... Surprise?" Steph said in reaction to their reaction. "What is all this?" Roz said through clenched teeth (someone was stepping on her feet). "Stephanie wanted to show you all her thanks for taking her in right away, so she did all this." Nick pointed to the now decorated loft (which resembled a *perky* Raven). "Wow!" Mindy looked impressed, as did the rest of the Knighties. "So this is what you were up to today?" Zoe asked Steph. "Yeppers!! Which brings me to another question. What were YOU all doing today? You ate my quiche and soaked my decorations, and I could of sworn I was being tailed while shopping today!" Steph smiled, hoping they realized she wasn't some secret GSS member or something. "Oops?" Roz and Mindy looked at one another while the kitchen crew blushed a bit. "You made the quiche?" Katrinka asked. "It wasn't too bad." "Thanks!" Steph turned to say something else when she realized she forgot the hats!!! "I'll be right back. I forgot something." She searched again for her missing hats when all of a sudden she heard it... "MY HATS!!!" Steph ran to the bathroom and knocked on the door. Eowyn came out. "Yeah?" "My HATS!!!" Steph smiled and went to the toilet. Surprisingly, the bathroom bunch followed. As she took off the top of the tank she saw her baggie full of wild hats!! "WOOHOO!!! MY HATS!" Steph took them out and put on a black one. "Here." She handed one to Sandra. "Your hats?" she said. "My hats!!" "Your hats caused the toilet to overflow," Nancy said laughing. "What?? That's why you were all wet? Ewwwww." Steph looked at the floor and it hit her. "Oh, I'm sorry!!" "It's all right, but from now on you're banned from hiding things," Nancy said sternly. "Let's all head back to the party," Adriana yelled back at the group as she dragged Chris with her. Back in the living room, someone had turned on some music, people were eating (and not getting sick), and all in all having a good time. "This was pretty cool of her. At least we know she's not from another faction," Zoe said as she ate some cake. "Amen to that!" Mindy told her. In another part of the dining room-- "Hmm... Not too bad," Nick commented. "No it's not." Roz ate another bite of the chili. "So...confetti, cake, chili AND decorations!! This turned out pretty good!" Steph said sneaking up on them. "Not too bad for a new Knightie!" Nancy said sneaking up and startling Steph. "Ack!" The party went on for a while longer, and nothing too bad happened. Thefood was edible, no one fell (at least Steph only fell once). All in all it was a day morning party whatever! (CEST TOUT) Steph ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sun Aug 29 05:23:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kxws-0001Lm-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 01:56:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0286; Sun, 29 Aug 99 01:53:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2601; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 01:53:57 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 01:46:30 -0400 Reply-To: STEPHANIE A JORDAN Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: STEPHANIE A JORDAN Subject: WAR:Knighties:Party hardly(2/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 61e3c23fae9c6e9151d2e850af22642d ************************************** Title: Party Hardly?!?(2/3) By Stephers Jordan Place: The loft Date: sat aug 21 Time between 1 30 and 3 00 pm Note: heh ************************************** Back in the kitchen-- Katrinka, Eowyn and Gemsong were cleaning up the kitchen. Eowyn: (sweep sweep) "What's going on in the bathroom?" Katrinka: (scrub scrub) "I don't know." Gemsong: (wipe wipe) "I think the toilet overflowed." Eowyn: (scrub scrub) "Yeah?" Gemsong: (sweep sweep) "Yep." Katrinka: (wipe wipe) "Weird." Katrinka stopped wiping the counter off and saw the "empty" coffee jar. She picked it up and noticed that something was moving inside. As she opened it she noticed the streamers and stuff inside. Katrinka: "Does anybody know where these came from?" Gemsong: "Notta clue." She looked to Eowyn who just shook her head and continued scrubbing. "This day is definitely turning out strangely," Katrinka sighed as she put the coffee jar back on the counter. Just then Roz and Mindy ran huffing into the loft. "Just...saw...Steph" Roz said. "Buying...glitter...confetti..." Mindy finished. Zoe overheard this and popped up. "I knew it. She had that look on her face. Like she was up to something." Zoe got a *look* on her face and decided to play detective too. She rounded up the rest of the Knighties and they all put it together. (Or at least they thought they did.) "So you think she's in with another faction? Like who?" Katrinka asked skeptically. Zoe grinned. "I'm not sure about that part, but think about it. We've had about three pranks played on us so far. And two out of those three times someone needed an in. Well *she* could have been giving it to them!" she finished triumphantly. "Zoe, I don't think she's capable of something like this though. I'll admit she's been acting oddly. But well..." She didn't want to say it... "She's just that way, I guess." "Well, I know what we saw," said Mindy. "Yes, but I agree with Nancy," Roz said matter-of-factly. "How about if we just talk to her when she gets back?" Mostly everyone was agreed with that. Steph wasn't completely gone. They'd just ask her. Plain and simple. An = hr had passed, and everyone had found something with which to occupy themselves. Katrinka, Eowyn and Gemsong had gone back to the kitchen, while the bathroom bunch cleaned themselves up. Zoe, Roz and Mindy were working on their interrogation speech. "Just come out and ask her?" Zoe asked. Roz nodded. Just then Steph walked in. "Speak of the devil," Mindy said through a little bit of laughing. Steph walked up to the table and set her bag down. How could she possibly set up a thank you party with all of them in the loft??? She needed to get them out. "Um, hey, guys," she said softly, noticing the looks on their faces. "Where have you been?" Roz asked politely. "Just out shopping. Why, did you want something?" Steph tried to sound monotone, but it wasn't working. "No, no, just worried that's all." Roz said as she settled in her chair. "Oohhh, well if you all will excuse me I have a phone call to make." Steph walked away quickly taking her bag with her. "Okay, so maybe she IS up to something," Roz told them quietly. (Upstairs on her bed... Unknown to her Nancy and the bathroom bunch are watching her from behind the tanning bed.) "Confetti... Yep, new table cloths...got 'em. Hats... Where *did* I put those hats?? Ack! Better go find them!" Steph got up and began to nonchalantly look for the rest of her supplies. "Let's go look at that list!" Adriana said eagerly. "We can't go through her things," Sandra told her. "No we shouldn't, but what's the difference if we are watching her and reading her notes?" Chris pointed out. "Good point. Let's just leave the detective work to Nick. My neck is starting to cramp," Nancy said while she rubbed the back of her neck. Downstairs-- Katrinka was sipping some tea while Eowyn and Gemsong finished off the rest of the quiche. "This isn't too bad," Eowyn remarked while eating her meal. Katrinka finally gave in. "Can I taste??" Gemsong nodded and passed her a fork and her plate. "It isn't too bad at all!" Katrinka said happily as she continued eating. "Hey what are you guys eating?" Steph asked as she eyed the quiche. "Just some quiche we found in the freezer," Gem responded. "Quiche??" "Quiche! Want some?" Eowyn smiled. "No that's all right, thanks for asking though!" Steph walked away grumbling. "Now I have to go back out. Wait, no I don't, I can order it from that one place near that one store!" She quickly went to the phone and dialed up. All the while the bathroom bunch is still following her around. "What is she doing? I can't see from under the stairs," Adriana said lightly. "She's making a phone call!!" Nancy pointed out. "Ohhhh, I wonder why?" Chris said even softer. "I think she's calling about quiche," Sandra told them. Just then Steph turned around to see what the four of them were doing, but they just turned away in time enough to make it look like they were checking out some of Nick's paintings. "These people get so weird sometimes," she said as she finished her call. The morning had left and nothing else had shocked or bewildered the Knighties. (Although that was about to change.) The time of the party was nearing, and Steph needed to get the Knighties out of the loft so that she might decorate and have the cake delivered. Steph had been trying to think of a way to get the Knighties out of the house all morning long. And she couldn't think of a plausible excuse to get the ten of them out! "I don't think this is gonna work do you?" Steph said to herself. "No, I don't." She let her head fall to the back on the couch and she looked up. "Ahhhh..." She smiled evilly as she headed up to the roof. "Geeez, everyone get up here quick!!" she called down to the loft. "Hurry! Get up here!! It's an emergency!" Suddenly the flock came a running. All ten Knighties looked a little annoyed (you would too if it had happened three times in one day), but they asked what was wrong anyway. Steph just told them to look. She had had her cockatoo, Trent, hovering over the loft and now he was eating some of Roz's plants. "Ack! First Ravens and now this?" Zoe said as she attempted to catch the bird. The rest of the Knighties followed suit and soon enough they were all distracted. Steph sneaked away and locked them up there! "Ah ha!" Steph hurried downstairs and began decorating. After a few minutes passed, the Knighties were growing tired of birds. Especially this one. Chris suddenly remembered something. "Hey, this is Stephanie's bird. I remember him from Wednesday night." "Okay, that's it, we're going to sit this kid down and talk to her!" Nancy said while picking a twig out of her hair. Zoe moved to open the latch and found that she couldn't budge it. "It's stuck!" She began to pull on it more. "Or locked?!" Suddenly the Knighties broke out into screams of fear. And just where was Nick??? * * * * Back down in the loft-- "It was nice that you wanted to do this for them. Won't they be surprised?" Nick commented as he put a banner up. "I hope so!!" Steph rigged the confetti thrower with the glitter stuff. "I'm sure they will, but explain again why you locked them on the roof? They aren't going to be happy about that." He finished with the banner and moved onto the blowing up balloons. "Think of it as payback for them ruining my tablecloths and confetti and eating my quiche!" She grinned madly and finished decorating. (End of part 2) ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sun Aug 29 05:23:32 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KyAq-0007G3-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 02:10:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7159; Sun, 29 Aug 99 02:03:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3441; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 02:03:18 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 02:05:06 EDT Reply-To: DanaKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Judy Freudenthal Subject: War: NP: Salon: A Perfect Afternoon 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 74fad72bbcc75c51d313c8d10f4b40a9 A Perfect Afternoon Takes place in the Salon, and goes after - Salon: Beauty..... by Judith Freudenthal Permission of all person's used has been granted. As soon as Debra Ann had gone with the stylist Judy looked up from the ancient magazine she was flipping through out of boredom and saw something that caused her to smile her biggest smile. A new face entered the saloon, and was a little suprised to see an unconscious body on the floor. "Is she okay?" He asked the receptionist as she was the closest person. "She's fine. She's part of the insane group here. She saw one of the stylists and passed out," Twit said, dismissing Maureen's unconscious body like it was an everyday occurance. Judy strained to hear the conversation between the receptionist and the very handsome brown haired man standing at the desk. When she heard the guy who bore a striking resemblence to Richard Dean Anderson say that he was back from his lunch break. Judy walked up to the receptionist and smiled at the stylist. "Do you have any free time? I could use a haircut." The stylist looked at the book. "I'm free. What did you have in mind?" Judy's smile did not vanish as he also sounded a little like Richard Dean Anderson. "I'm not quite sure. What do you think?" "Why don't we go back to my station and see what we can do." Judy allowed him to lead the way. After Judy was finished with her trim, her Richard Dean Anderson look alike suggested a nice soothing massage. Judy couldn't help but agree. She knew Ricky Dean didn't have any twin brothers, but this one would do just fine. Judy relaxed and enjoyed the large hands easing all the tension from her body (or at least all that could be resolved by a massage). Her imagination oss her face. The massage ended way too soon for Judy's tastes. After her lookalike left, she dressed and headed out for the lobby. The few NP'ers there could tell that Judy had enjoyed her trip to the salon by the big, relaxed grin on her face. From - Sun Aug 29 05:23:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kyu5-0002pM-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 02:57:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0416; Sun, 29 Aug 99 02:55:13 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4648; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 02:55:14 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 02:57:08 EDT Reply-To: Ipecac69@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stan Williams Subject: WAR: GSS: Somewhere Other than the Knighties To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c16b60dd04c27a6d25efc869b70c0b3a Time: Saturday night (8/28) and into Sunday morning (8/29) Place: Cruising around on the streets of Toronto in my taxicab/Crown Vic (i.e., If I were Nick I'd be having a flashback). By: Talon Lyrics reprinted without permission, but with due credits, so there :P ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "The night is my companion, and solitude my guide. Would I spend forever here, and not be satisfied?" Sarah McLachlan's Possession slipped from the Ford's not at all factory standard sound system and into Talon's lonely soul. "How true" thought Talon "and how pathetic." Stakeout duty just wasn't quite as rewarding as one might imagine. Long nights, impossible odds, keeping your eye to the keyhole. And such an assignment! The Knighties -of all factions! How can people be so bouncy when they follow someone so in denial about his true nature? So . . confused about his inner self? Talon caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror. He was struck by the realization that perhaps he too was confused about his identity. "After all, why do I use my agent name, even among those who know my given name?" Talon was speaking to his reflection. The sound of his voice - not to mention the shrill honking of a car horn - brought Talon back to reality. His near miss at the intersection now receding behind him was a true wake up call. "I don't know how Nick does it," he thought. "All the driving/flashing back and no accidents." "We've been rambling all the night, and sometime of this day. Now returning back again. We bring a garland gay." The haunting voice of Lorenna McKennitt's The Mummers' Dance provided a soundtrack for Talon's otherwise silent brooding. He looked at the date on his watch. August 29! Have I missed the Lammastide, wasting time watching the Knighties? Well, not wasted...There was that one, what did they call her? Gemsong? Nice name, nice girl. Full of joy and laughter. Easy on the eyes as well. Curses, that I did not infiltrate her party. It sounded like they were having fun... Again there was that sense of confusion - - the dichotomy between the angsting Nick and the bouncing Knighties. Talon pressed a familiar button on the stereo's panel. The stations changed . . . but alas, no Nightcrawler, not as yet this night at least. Talon felt a sense of shame. Surely the General was never confused. HIS unswerving direction in life/unlife never ceased to amaze and inspire Talon. But... Talon's fingers redirected the radio dial. "If I had a million dollars (If I had a million dollars) I would buy you a green dress (But not a real green dress. That's cruel.)" The Barenaked Ladies' If I Had $1000000 brought a smile to Talon's face. A smile ..now that is a refreshing change. How long had it been? Was it when he heard the Knighties' exploding cookies? Or was it when Nick got drunk at the Harem party? Talon noticed a disturbing trend. This required some serious thought. Was it just about Gem? Or was it about Talon's direction in the faction rivalries? Did it matter? And why do I keep thinking of myself as Talon? Larry Gowan's voice penetrated the thoughtful moment: "Out of a deeper hunger, I'm at your door tonight. Out of a deeper hunger - I want you," from Gowan's Out of a Deeper Hunger. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stan brought the Crown Vic to a screeching halt. Two quick turns later, he was speeding happily towards his destiny. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stan P.M.O.T.G.S.S.F.N. What follows is just my $0.02: 1. Violence, even fictional violence against fictional characters, is not what I consider "fun". 2. I was so disappointed when it turned out that Bobby Ewing was in the shower. How weak. 3. Say it isn't so, Bob. Say it isn't so. From - Sun Aug 29 05:23:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KzCq-0003DH-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 03:16:48 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7265; Sun, 29 Aug 99 03:14:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5121; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 03:14:34 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:45:54 +0000 Reply-To: xina@LIGHTSPEED.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Anderson Subject: War: GSS: Nightcrawler's Mortal Rant To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b1a768f72f3a00eb088604a5ec87ec93 War: GSS: Nightcrawler's Mortal Rant Time: Friday 27, 8:30PM Location: CERK Story By:Kimberly Anderson Monologue By: Alicia Madison LaCroix walked briskly to the elevator, escorted by a quad of on-duty GSS agents trotting along behind him attempting to keep up with a pace set specificaly to leave them behind. LaCroix, even as a mortal, was apparently able to move very swiftly when the mood took him. He punched the button to call the elevator-car and as the door swished open two agents jumped in ahead of him, quickly scanning the area for any sign of boobytrap or monkeyshines, before he could even take a step. LaCroix paused, considered taking the stairwell rout, then sighed exasperatedly and stepped into the elevator followed by the two remaining agents who quickly stepped in to either side, one even pushing the floor button for him and receiving a smouldering glare from the General in responce as the door slid shut. "Kio devas mi fari?" Tami, Agent Muse, asked in the new code language the GSS had adopted for talking around LaCroix in his presence. "Helpu lin tiom, kiom vi povas." Ace replied as she watched the floor numbers change on the control pannel. "Mi ciam estas prete." agent Striker replied from the other side, as Muse shook her head in agreement. "Ankau mi!" sHolmes added from the rear right. "I hope you *children* are enjoying your little charade," LaCroix remarked sarcasticaly from their midst. "Just maintaining the dignity of the General, sir." Ace replied. "You don't want to wake up some morning with pink hair do you?" "Is that a threat, agent B-12?" LaCroix glared at her, one darkly penciled eyebrow raised. "No. Uh, just remarking on things that have happened to, uh, other vampires.. even within the protection of their own factions." She replied a bit flustered. The doors finaly chimed open and LaCroix stepped briskly out. "I do not need your "protections"!" He thundered as he stormed down the corridor toward his sound booth. The agents looked at each other. "Devus mi sageto li?" {Translated: Should I dart him?} agent sHolmes asked, half drawing her dart pistol. "Ne. Veni, li bezoni nia protektado." Striker replied placing a hand on her arm. "Lets go." he added starting off after the General. There after ensued a bizare chase, with LaCroix fleeing through the corradors toward his sound booth while trying his best not to look like he was "fleeing". And the GSS agents following swiftly after, while simultaneously checking every junctured hallway and unlocked door for hostiles and pranksters. Opening and blocking the sound booth door, LaCroix turned to the panting GSS agents who had tried vainly to get there ahead of him, and raised his hand in a stopping gesture; index finger and thumb extended. "Not. In. Here." he growled in annoyance at the bevy of agents pearing through the doorway in an attempt to make sure of his safety. Then, almost slamming the door Lacroix closed out his self-appointed honor guard or "Wardens" as he had decided to think of them and, pulling down the windowshades, wandered over to his customary seat. LaCroix sat in blessed silence for a few minutes and then flipped some switches on his broadcasting console. "Hello dear listeners. This is the Nightcrawler, once again." He breathed, reclaiming a bit of his timeless self-posession. "I would like to talk to you about "Annoyance". Something we can never seem to excape in mortal life.." LaCroix glared toward the door and the GSS agents on the other side, no doubt listening in. "...Something that has become painfully prevalent of mortality. Annoyance is all around. >From that cell phone ringing in the middle of a concert to the buzzing of a gnat that refuses to die. Annoyance comes in all forms. Mortals either deal with it, or ignore it. It is as much a part of life as breathing. A newborn's first experience of life is annoyance as they are forced from the dark, warm womb of their mother into the cold, sterile arms of a strange person. Annoyance is easily dealt with, as curable as a cold or life itself. "However, there are times when annoyance wins, and destroys what little peace of mind there is left in the world. A misbehaving child, an army who mutinies 'for the sake of the crew', a million other things that happen night-in, night-out. The only cure is, not to decimate, but simply to amputate the bad parts, leaving the rest to deal with the consequences of life." LaCroix leaned back in his chair, satisfied with this night's rant. "I see we have a few callers. Very well... Caller one, you're on the air with the Nightcrawler..." ----------------------- ----------------------- Anyone who wants to can write their call in post during the broadcasting time. ----Kim ----------------------- ----------------------- From - Sun Aug 29 05:23:35 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KzYT-0003gY-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 03:39:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8574; Sun, 29 Aug 99 03:36:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5630; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 03:36:55 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 00:43:48 -0700 Reply-To: "Laura K. Griffin" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Laura K. Griffin" Subject: WAR: DP: "See? I told you we'd need knives in this War!" 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 37dbf1f76713e8b27d77175928e8051b WAR: DP: "See? I told you we'd need knives in this War!" 01/01 by Laura Griffin Time: August 27, Friday morning Place: Dark Perk Mansion He didn't know whether to laugh or hide, but John-Travis knew that something was desperately wrong at the Dark Perk Mansion. For starters, he was covered in a tannish-colored custard. Next, the lawn was filled with families. Small children were everywhere, some crying, some laughing and pointing at the horror going on at 1313 Mockingbird Lane. This *had* to be one of the most cruel pranks pulled during this war! He watched in horror as four life-sized Teletubby characters paraded on the lawn. They all seemed to be pulling at their heads as if they were suffering major headaches. John-Travis called out to one of the other Thugs that had joined him outside the Mansion. "What the heck is going on?" In response, the big green Teletubby creature bounced over to him and practically knocked him over. "Mmmmwfffff mwrf rrffrrr!!" yelled the lime green monstrosity. "Uh....what?" John-Travis leaned in close to the Teletubby usually known as Dipsy. "I said....GET ME OUT OF THIS THING!!" "Ohmygod! Mom?" The Teletubby bounced in response. "Say something again...but wait! Let me go get my camera!" But as he turned to go inside the Mansion, Dipsy pounced on him, knocking him to the ground! Dipsy was joined by the red tubby known as Po. "Don't you dare get a camera! You go into the Ballroom and get one of my daggers! You're going to have to cut us out of these costumes, because the zippers are fused shut!" That's what 'Dipsy' said; John-Travis heard, "Don't! mmmffffllls camera! mmmfffwwff room mrfffessslw daggers! Mummmf...." well...you get the idea! He understood enough and went in search of the steely device. While they waited, Tinky Winky and Lala made their way over to join the other two grotesque Teletubby creatures. "Argh! Mffffy mkdssky se shay!" cried the purple person. "Bllllllpl mmfswwwsss mmrrffflll!" sighed the red rotund rolly-polly. The other Teletubbies wobbled in agreement. "What the heck is going on!?" Shana shouted as she stumbled out of the Mansion, dripping with the horrid ooze and beheld the multi-colored spectacle that was on the front lawn. Before anyone could answer, the sound of 'Kung Fu Fighting' played is if in a movie soundtrack (and since this is fic, a soundtrack is a reasonable device), and the Dark Pink Ninja tumbled out of the house with John-Travis in tow. "Make way for razor sharp blades!" she cried. "I must release my sidekick!" John-Travis pointed Ren in the direction of Dipsy, while he handed Shana one of the daggers. He tackled Tinky Winky as Shana thrust a knife carefully into Po. Poor Lala did the only thing she could do -- she bounced and cursed (and since this is a PG-13 war, it was a good thing that most of her words were muffled)! Ren managed to work her samurai sword around the neck of Dipsy, careful not to sink to close to her sidekick's skin. After cutting away what seemed like yards of cloth and stuffing, she managed to tear the head off of the ghastly green costume. "Fresh air!" Laura yelped as the headpiece came free, but then she surveyed the troublesome scene that played out before her eyes. Shana and John-Travis had wicked grins on their faces as they dissected the Teletubbies. Swarms of children and their parents were running away from the Mansion in terror as their television heroes were being gutted. Laura suppressed a laugh and remembered that she was supposed to be upset at the indignity forced upon her. "Give me a knife, Ren. I'll get this thing off while you go work on that bouncing yellow one that I think is Caeryn!" For half an hour, foam flew high on the Toronto winds as the Teletubbies were disemboweled. Finally, four hot and sweaty Thugs pulled free of their childish prisons. "They stole my Harley!" Carly moaned, kicking the red skooter that had been left in its place. "They made a mess!" grumbled Caeryn. Miranda made faces at some of the stragglers meandering about the lawn, and they shrugged and walked away. "This kind of evil is definitely the kind that only a Cousin can be responsible for." "Maybe they were a teensy bit annoyed at having to wear dark pink lederhosen at the beginning of war?" Ren said with a wicked grin. "And actually...the worst of this isn't over," Laura said solemnly. "What could be worse than Teletubbies?" Miranda questioned. "The look on Mrs. Hitchcock's face when she sees all this muck everywhere!" --end Author's note: Oh cruel Cousins! What an evil prank! To think that I actually had to look up the Teletubbies on the Internet so that I could write a response! How poisonous and vile! My son will not ever let me live it down that I was actually clicking on things like 'noo-noo' and 'Tinky Winky'! I'm going to have to smudge my computer to exorcise this evil! (In other words...good job!) Cousin Laura -- The Dark CERK Perk http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Portal/6866/Laura.htm "Even though you're refracted, you're still you." -- 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile' From - Sun Aug 29 10:02:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L3Ym-0007GQ-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 07:55:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0838; Sun, 29 Aug 99 07:53:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1759; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 07:53:31 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 07:53:30 -0400 Reply-To: Katrinka Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Katrinka Subject: War: Knighties: A Knight For Shopping (3/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 15879ed481471fdec8096b1c6da6f068 Note: my five year old son calls 'wife' life. So that is what the life reference is to. I am not insulting any faction, simply mimicing something a little boy says. By hook or by crook, Zoe was going to get her CD! She ran into the mall, with Nick chasing her. "I'm going to suck your blood! BLAH! BLAH! BLAH!" Nick screamed as he followed her. The employees of Ford's tried to stop him, but he pushed past them. "Come back here my life!" "I'll never be your life!" Zoe vowed as she searched frantically for the CD store. Nick in hot pursuit. She could hear Nick yelling. "Life! Where did you go life? I am a collector of lives, you could be one!" //Why on Earth would Nick want to be Dracula?// //Didn't Dracula only have three?// Zoe was able to loose Nick in the crowd. She then dashed into a CD store. Found the Newest Rasputina CD and bought it. She tucked it into her fanny pack, and left the store. Nick dropped down from above. "I've found you my pretty!" "HELP!" she screamed. Nick began to tickle her. She tried to fight off his fingers. How could the knight be so good with tickling? "Admit it! You want to be my life!" "No way!" The tickling got harder. "You become my life weather you like it or not!" "NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "I won't stop tickling you until you agree!" "Okay! Okay! I'll be your life!" she said between laughs. "So when you gonna drain me?" "I'm not, just playing!" Nick stopped tickling her. "Buy you an Orange Julie." "Have you ever had one of those?" "Nope, that's why I want to try one!" Nick went to the counter, and ignored the servers strange looks. He ordered mega large Orange Julies, chili-cheese Polish sausages, and onion rings. Nick sat, and downed his food quickly. He placed another order and began to eat that. Zoe began to wonder if the Detective would need a good diet. The two where happily eating when Zoe heard. "Freeze! Both of you!" Zoe raised her hands, dropping her onion ring onto her lap. Nick began to laugh. The policeman walked around Zoe. "What's so funny?" Zoe yelped, as she saw Detective Bodenskya. "Nothing sir!' Nick looked up to the detective calmly. "What seems to be the problem?" "Someone fitting your description stole costumes from Ford's Teachers Store. Do you have any explanation for this?" "I was planning on taking them back?" Nick said meekly. Bodenskya moved closer to Nick and whispered. "Pretending to be Bela Legosi! How demeaning!" "It's was in fun!" "Fun, smung, your nicked Nick!" the detective crossed his arms, and tried to look severe. "I'm going to jail again?!?!?!" Zoe asked. "Again?" Bodenskya looked the Knightie over. "I thought you placed this one under house arrest." "I thought she would be safe with me," Nick smiled and ate a onion ring. The detective grabbed the container of onion rings. "I am going to have to confiscate this as evidence!" Nick grabbed them back. "Get your own!" "I should run all of you and your gang in!" Bodenskya grabbed the rings again. "You do that!" Nick glared as the detective ate one of his onion rings. "Tell you what. Return the costume, and I'll convice the store to drop the charges." "Oh all right," Nick sighed. "Oh and Nick. There are two woman, who want to know when they will be allowed into their car. Seems you have the car keys." "Katrinka and Eowyn! I forgot all about them!" Nick got up, grabbed his food and Zoe's hand. Then drug the woman out of her chair and towards the teacher's store. Zoe only had time to grab her Orange Julie. She was disgusted to see Detective Bodenskya eating her chili-dog! ***************** Katrinka and Eowyn sat dejected in the parking lot. Katrinka looked through a resource guide in boredom. "We should call a cab." Eowyn told her. "Yeah, but would any cab take us home with all this stuff?" Katrinka patted the four carloads of her teacher's aids. "We need a u-haul!" Just then the detective formally known as Vlad Dracula came out onto the porch. He carried a bag. Zoe trailed behind him, drinking an Orange Julie. "Well, ladies, ready to go?" Nick smiled. "Tell you what, you stay here. I'll go get the car!" "What happened?" Katrinka asked Zoe. "You wouldn't believe me. Trust me, you wouldn't believe what happened!" Zoe smiled. From - Sun Aug 29 10:02:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L3w0-0007no-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 08:19:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1002; Sun, 29 Aug 99 08:17:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3723; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 08:17:31 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 07:14:10 -0500 Reply-To: Amy Reed Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Amy Reed Subject: War: Harem: 'Where's the Couch?' 'Who cares? It stunk.' (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 851b8f487a3c6de77e5b3ee4a896fbcb Title: War: Harem: 'Where's the Couch?' 'Who cares? It stunk.' (1/1) By: Randora, Nick's Harem of Wives, Wife #1 Betaed by: Cousin MidKnight (AKA Agent Ice, AKA Jennifer, AKA CousinMid, AKA Mids, AKA who knows what else?) Date: Aug. 24 Time: 11:00pm or thereabouts Note: Everyone used with permission, including Nick-bot and Alt. Nick Special note: The Nick in this is the alt. universe Nick Follows: GSS: The Reclaiming of the Couch (2/2) Nick made his way to the third floor from the cellar where he had been for the last half-hour to hour. He had been searching through the bottles for that special something. He was surprised to hear laughter coming from his suite and what sounded like his own voice as well. As he stepped through the door, he saw his wives surrounding ... him? Wait, he was in the door. How could he also be sitting on the bed? "What the," he choked back the word since this is a PG-13 War, then continued, "What is going on in here?" The wives all looked up and over at him, then back at the other Nick and back again, clearly confused. Randora stood and walked halfway across the room to him, then stopped. "Nick?" Both Nick's said, "Yes." Which thoroughly confused all the wives in the room. Randora put her hands on her hips and said, "Okay, which one of you is our husband Nick?" "I am," both Nick's said, once again at the same time. The Nick in the door went to Randora and said, "I'll prove it." And proceeded to kiss her silly. Randora came up for air and gasped, "Oh my, you are the real one. But who's that?" she asked. Nick cocked his head and listened for a heartbeat and didn't hear one. What he did hear was strange. It was almost like gears turning and whirling. With vampiric speed, he was next to the fake Nick and hauling him to his feet. He was about to mop up the floor with him, when he felt a touch on his arm. He looked down into the eyes of Mesha. "Don't hurt him. I don't think he meant any harm. Besides, he looks so much like you that ... I don't want to see him get hurt," she said softly. Nick slowly lowered the imposter to the ground and looked him over carefully. After a few minutes he exclaimed, "It's a robot!" "What?!?" several voices said at once. "A robot. Made to look like me," he answered. "But who would do that? And why?" Amethyst asked. Randora got a horror-stricken look on her face and as she bolted for the door, she yelled, "The couch!" She didn't even stop at the elevator for the ride down to the ground floor, she actually took the stairs. This is very unusual behavior for someone who doesn't like exercise. She ran into the alcove where the couch had been and stopped short at the empty spot in front of the fireplace. Randora went to the alarm system and found that it had somehow been turned off and never reset. She turned to look at Amethyst, "Did you turn off the alarm?" Amethyst looked stricken for a moment, then said, "Yes, to let Nick inside. He'd rung the bell and ... I must have forgotten to reset the alarm. I'm so sorry." She looked really upset about it and Randora didn't have the heart to scold her. "I wasn't outside. I was in the cellar getting some refreshment," Nick said from behind them. "Oh, it must have been ... it ... that I let in," Amethyst said. "Who would do this? To go to all this trouble, I mean. Okay, break out the cars, girls, we're going couch hunting!" KaliraRael shifted from one foot to the other a moment, and said, "Um ... Randora? We ... uh ... It's like this, the couch smelled. I mean it *really* stunk. Do we have to go get it back?" Randora looked at the faces in front of her, "You all feel the same way?" Every head nodded. Randora sighed and decided to let it go. She had to admit that since it had acquired the peachy scent somehow, she hadn't been able to bring herself to sit on it, let alone enjoy it. "Okay, we'll let it go," she said. 'For now,' she added internally. Randora walked back to where the couch had been and started hunting for clues as to who had taken it. She gave up and as she started to turn away and head back upstairs, something caught her eye. Sitting on the floor in a corner next to where the couch had been was a booklet of some sort. She bent over and picked it up and thumbed through it. "It seems our 'guest' up there is something called an ACRN3000. It stands for ... Oh my!" Her face brightened. "This might be worth losing a couch for. Let's go check and see if they got everything as it should be." Once more, she bolted for the stairs the other Wives hot on her heels and Nick trailing behind. DragonLady slowed down until Nick caught up with her, then she grabbed his hand and together they ascended the stairs. *FIN* YFITK, Amy Dark Knightie; GWDFC; B.R.I.C.K. Number-One-Wife & Listowner of Nick's Harem of Wives Listowner: FK-XStitcher -- "Cross-Stitcher of the Knight" fknight@acnet.net fknight@cyberweb.org - TexDKnght (IRC) Forever Knight Web Site: http://forever-knight.virtualave.net My Football page: http://members.tripod.com/~ReedStuff/nfl From - Sun Aug 29 11:51:45 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L6l9-0004BE-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:20:43 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1886; Sun, 29 Aug 99 11:18:33 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5629; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:18:33 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:19:35 EDT Reply-To: Libratsie@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: RP: Kenny Meets His Match (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 46ed955d867b9a19a72b7a9db30caf19 KENNY MEETS HIS MATCH (01/01) DISCLAIMER: No wee lil' ratsies were harmed in the writing of this story. However, virtually we think they get what they deserve. Everyone used with everyone's permission by Libby Singleton "Cooo!" Screed shouted. "COOOO! Ol' Screed h'iz a ca-rouche-a-vamp h'once more!" The Ratpackers and all the lil' ratsies within shouting distance awoke from their lil' ratsie nappies and said, "Huh?" Screed grabbed Ratpacker after Ratpacker, hugging them tightly while swinging them around. "Ya heard me! Wot h'ever 'appened, un- 'appened!" The Ratpackers and all the lil' ratsies cheered, their celebration echoing throughout the tunnel system along with Barnabas' happy howls. That was until Screed suddenly looked a bit mournful, falling silent. "Wot's wrong, mate?" Johnsie asked. "Jest real-eyes-did tha' bein' a vamp, the sweet Natsie Ratsie won't h'even con-sider a romp 'round Hogtown wit' me," Screed replied mournfully. "'Less Oi'm seekin' the cure, o' course." "Ya h'ain't gonna do tha', h'are ya?" Michele said worriedly. "H'ain't no way Ol' Screed's goin' back there," Screed admitted. "But Oi'm sure gonna miss the way me luverly doc shouted, 'get yar pants back h'on!'" * * * * Kenny the rat, who'd been wandering above ground surveying his rat infested kingdom, could tell something was going on in Toronto Town that night. Worried, he scurried into the Ratpack Tunnels and began looking for Screed. When he found the formerly ex-vampire now vampire again, he was surrounded by cheering Ratpackers and wee lil' ratsies. Kenny stood up on his hind leg for a better look, but didn't cheer. He knew better than to cheer. Being of slightly higher intelligent than your already intelligent average rat, he knew what was coming. Proving Kenny right, Screed said, "Ya know, Ol' Screed's gettin' the urge fer a bit o' a squeaker snack." Although all the other wee lil' ratsies seem to take the fact they were about to be slurped dry as an honor, Kenny let out an involuntary squeal of panic. All this did was draw the carouche's attention to him. Although Kenny did try to run, Screed flew into the wee lil' ratsie mass and grabbed Kenny by the neck. Without pausing for so much as a "thankee kindly," Screed turned Kenny over onto his back and bit, draining him loudly. When the vampire was finished, he held the carcass up for all to see. "H'o me dawgs!" Johnsie cried. "'E killed Kenny!" Marissa added. "The bastard!" Michele shouted. On that much anticipated punch line, Screed began a feeding rampage that rivaled his first hunger. Throughout the tunnels, garbage bins, streets and buildings of Toronto he went, leaving behind many empty wee lil' ratsies. And when Screed was done, and the rat population was back down to a more manageable form at least in public areas, all the carouche had to say for himself was, "Burp!" --END of Kenny LibRatsie@aol.com From - Sun Aug 29 11:51:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L7Au-0007Xg-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:47:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9917; Sun, 29 Aug 99 11:45:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6323; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:45:07 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:46:45 EDT Reply-To: Libratsie@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Libby Singleton Subject: WAR: RP: Farewell to a Good Ol' Dawg To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1e935b3780e7e5e1728610bef625cbf6 RP: FAREWELL TO A GOOD OL' DAWG IN MEMORY of Barnabas the Basset who died during the afternoon of August 8, 1999, and is very much missed by myself, and his canine buddies Gilbert and LaFayette. Never was there a more loving Basset hound. By Libby Singleton All the people were saying goodbye, Barnabas could hear as he curled up in a quiet corner. There seemed to be a bittersweet tone to everyone's voice as they said farewell to Screed and each other, while still laughing over War events. In some cases they were already planning for the next. The human and vampire voices faded as Barnabas realized he wasn't in the tunnel anymore. By the smell, he knew he was now at the veterinarian's office. He didn't feel good at all, couldn't even think right. He could smell Libby's scent on a biscuit within his kennel, but didn't feel like even licking his favorite food. A gentle hand petted him, a male voice only vaguely recognizable as a veterinarian said soothing words to him, "Is it time, old fellow? If it is, don't fight, just go. It's all right. I've done all I know how to do. I'm sorry it wasn't more." Barnabas lowered his head and drew in one last breath, not feeling like fighting at all. In the distance, he saw a light. Remarkable because the world had been dark for several years. (Being a Basset, Barnabas never understood he was blind. He thought the entire world had simply gone dark.) He walked toward the light, drawn by a familiar happy baying. Once through, he saw a large field at the foot of a rainbow colored bridge. Animals of all sorts were playing happily among the plants. To Barnabas' total delight, he discovered dog biscuit trees! After a quick snack, a brown Basset began running to him, sounding the happy baying that had lured Barnabas through the light in the first place. It was Fred! The formerly very old dog was now young and spry again! Barnabas hadn't seen him since Libby had tearfully led the ailing Fred away several months before. The two sniffed butts in the doggy traditional greeting and immediately started playing as they did long ago. In the far distance, as if from another world, Barnabas heard LaFayette the Basset's mourning howl and Gilbert the almost Fox Terrier's high pitch cry. They missed him, Barnabas realized. They missed Fred too. But Barnabas knew that someday they'd meet again and wasn't sad at all. * * * * "'Ey, Libs, where's Barn-the-bus," Screed asked. "'E's gone 'ome," Libs explained, a single tears sliding down her cheek. "Now tha' h'it's time wot ta return to Real Loif, Oi 'ad ta say goodbye ta 'im. 'E wuz a good ol' dawg, Barnabas wuz. Bye Barnabas. Goodbye." --END LibRatsie@aol.com From - Sun Aug 29 11:57:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L7F6-0007dm-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:51:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9929; Sun, 29 Aug 99 11:49:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6480; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:49:28 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 09:46:30 -0600 Reply-To: Stormer Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stormer Subject: War: N&NPack: Tying Up The Loose Ends To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 25e8401c18689a34fed18e42372af058 Tying Up The Loose Ends By Rogue Cousin Tammy Time: Very early Sunday morning. Nikki (the dog) retrieved with Susan Bennett's permission. -------------------- Tammy got up early Sunday morning and made her way to the Happy Souvlaki. None of the FODS were up yet, but she didn't worry about getting in. She whistled twice and within minutes two plumper looking beasts arrived. *Your work here is done*, Tammy sighed, *Screed should be a vampire again, the Rats are his territory once more. The pieces are back where they belong. I have a note to leave for the FODS.* It basically advised them that the vampires should be vampires again and that she hoped LaCroix and Sydney had done their best at keeping the Souvlaki rat-free. *You don't seem certain Mother?* Sidney asked. *I am as certain as having to depend on Knight will allow me to be.* The Rogue Cousin advised her familiar. *Until I can see one of the vampires in their immortal condition, I will be uncertain.* *You are concerned about one vampire in particular?" LaCroix the ferret seemed pleased at this. *Yes, -my hormones- are concerned about LaCroix but I'm also worried about Nick, Janette, Vachon... Heck I'm even concerned about Screed." Tammy sighed, "I'm also concerned about the rest of the N&Npack family... The ones that aren't dark. They're going to take this the worst, especially Susan." *What about Natalie?* Sydney asked. Tammy smiled, *Nat is expecting Nick to be a vampire again... Trust me. She'll be disappointed, but not surprised. She's probably already has a 'perk Nick up' speech/tirade already planned for this eventuality. That's what I love about her, she'd so damn practical.* The smile faded as Tammy turned back to worrying about Susan and the other lighter members of her faction. Sydney saw the worried look on her face and started to rub her legs, "Purr"*-haps if she had some unconditional love and comfort?* "Nikki!" Tammy smiled, "It'll only be for the day. I wonder if Susan would mind. We'll go back to the theatre and I'll call and arrange for Nikki to be dropped off." Tammy slipped the ferret and cat inside of her leather jacket where they mushed around until comfortable then started to purr and produce heat. ------------ Back at the theatre... "Yes, it's something to do with that dumb vampire show... I don't know. Will you please bring her, Sus really needs her... She'll be back tonight... Probably late. No, I will not tell her that LaCroix is the better vampire," Tammy fielded the questions being flung at her thinking, 'That's the last thing she needs to hear right now.' Then she responded, "You can tell her yourself when she's home." while thinking, 'I'd do it in day or two if I were you.' Finally, "Thanks." "He'll bring Nikki." she directed at the two familiars who after checking the rooms for the duration were looking quite miffed. *You went to a circle without us,* LaCroix gave a ferretty scowl. *Your Tibetan panel coat and gown tell us the tale.* Sydney looked offended. *You guys were working! I couldn't come get you without breaking my promise...* Tammy explained. *Then you shouldn't have gone...* LaCroix said pointedly. Tammy sighed, *I have other things to do.* Setting out food and milk for the pair of annoyed beasts, she wandered to find another N&Npacker to accept delivery of Susan's dog. When Susan found out that Nick was a vampire again, so were all the other vampires and that the Rogue Cousin had tricked them into returning their piece, either she'd want to kill Tammy or herself. Tammy hoped that Nikki being here to offer love and support would offset the disappointment the assistant faction leader felt. She found Kevin up early mucking with the video system. "Hi Kevin!" Tammy addressed one of the few male N&Npackers present at the War. "Hey!" He returned still concentrating on the settings of the projection system. "When the door buzzes, it's a delivery for Susan. Please let her in and don't mind if she barks at you. She won't do anything but bark." Tammy stated. "Uh sure..." Kevin was still concentrating hard on the video system. Tammy was walking out of the Theatre by the time Kevin looked up and said, "Susan's gonna bark at me? Or is the package?" He sat and thought about it for a while, then shrugged and went back to working. ----------- In Front Of CERK... Tammy sat quietly, the motor of her motorcycle idling, in front of the Cousinly HQ. If only she could know... The sun was already up, so there was no chance of him coming outside, unless Nick hadn't carried through, but she couldn't bring herself to go to the door and actually ask to see him. Maybe she'd luck out and one of the Cousins would find her out here. "I'll \wait for a while," the Rogue Cousin thought, "We need to know whether Nick carried through with changing everyone back." Her plan was set, the other Dark N&NPackers could handle breaking the news and comforting the lighter parts of the family, Tammy would get the confirmation and not be there to upset those who realized that she had tricked them into returning the necklace piece of the object that Soul had. ------------ Comments to: tabby_katt@technowizards.net --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- ONElist: your connection to people who share your interests. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ From - Sun Aug 29 11:57:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L7IQ-0007hh-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:55:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1950; Sun, 29 Aug 99 11:52:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6638; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:52:48 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 08:54:11 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: These Dreams (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 704a75d75d48a39bfca4afbde38fbb97 WAR: UF: These Dreams (1/2) BY: Cousin Shelley (With Susan's dream chiefly by Susan Field ) LOCATION: The Hive TIME: The wee wee hours of Friday morning (August 29th)immediately following 'The Sticky Remote' As 'Father's Day' ended, fading to snow and fuzz, all the UFfers snored and sighed in restless sleep and very happy, very ornery, small animals devoured enough junk food which, if processed correctly, could provide electricity to a large city for a full month. All was as it should be. The mighty structure groaned as if shaken in a tiny tremor, content and sure that *it* was in a protected place, for the moment, no one searching, no one questioning. The Hive rested. And all dreamed . . . Susan looked around the alley, and with no signs or landmarks visible she *knew* she was in Paris. She'd just been watching Father's Day, her favorite part, the Nick-LaCroix scene in, you guessed it, the alley. Must have been that 10th glass of milk that put me out, she thought. She tried, but couldn't control her dreaming, and she began to walk nervously, sensing someone following her. Suddenly, a tall figure with reddish-brown hair appeared in front of her. "Where have you been?" asked the imposing figure. Susan swallowed hard. "Just walking." The taller woman, noticing the sizable lump in the other's jacket pocket, asked, "What have you there?" Susan couldn't speak. Suddenly, she noticed the pin the other wore and wondered how she'd not seen it immediately. It was large for a pin, cube-shaped. No, not a cube, exactly, multi-sided, impossibly so. And even with the scarce light, it shimmered as if reflecting the noon-day sun. As the tall one grabbed the package from her pocket, she snapped back to reality. "What's this?" Only silence again. "You could have simply told me that you were going to write another story." Suddenly, a blinding smack to the face landed Susan against a wall, the other holding her up. "How many times must I tell you, no story ideas until we write the ones we already have!" Susan was released as the other figure headed out of the alleyway. "Yell if you will, but I'll continue to have new story ideas!" she shouted after April as she fell to the ground. "Are you okay?" A soft, concerned voice came from nowhere. As Susan looked up, she saw, or more sensed, Nick. She squinted, trying to bring him fully into focus, but he remained semi- transparent, instead of solid and real. Damn! she thought. As the dream-vampire approached and helped her to her feet, Susan caught a familiar glint of light from Nick's lapel, but dismissed it as he started speaking. Susan silently thanked whatever chemical, preservative or combination thereof that she'd ingested during the video marathon that had caused Nick to appear in her dream like this. Milk! She intended to drink so much milk at bedtime every night in the hopes of reproducing this effect, that she figured she'd moo instead of her usual, rhythmic snoring. "I have a gift for you." He smiled. Nick whispered of legends and his ideas, and things he'd like to do in her stories. Then, abruptly, he walked away. She followed. As Susan shifted restlessly where she'd fallen asleep on the couch, her hand landed squarely on April's cheek, almost, but not quite waking, her dozing friend........ April looked around at the book-lined shelves, wondering how she'd gotten to a library. At night, no less. No light shone through any of the windows, yet no dark was apparent either. Just nothing. She decided to make the most of the situation so she started reading the spines and browsing the dusty volumes. She jumped as something boomed behind her, and turning, saw that a book had dropped to the floor. She picked it up and examined it, noticing the intricate engraving and symbolism on the leather spine, the shiny geometric symbol with strange etchings and configurations. And how the book had not one mote of dust on the cover. "Looking for something?" Nick's voice made April spin. It was clearly him, but almost as if seen on a black and white TV using only bent rabbit ears as reception. "I, uh, was just...browsing." She tentatively stepped toward the dream-figure. "Here. A gift for you." The vampire handed her a book he hadn't previously held, and smiled. April whispered the title and the author's name: April Hackett, author of the #1 bestseller-- He was gone, but she hadn't noticed him leave. A glint of light flashed on the far side of the room. She set out in search of him, smiling, with the book tight in her hand. As April whispered of New York Times sales records in her sleep, her head slipped down to Les' shoulder, prompting Leslie shift slightly in her sleep...... Leslie hurried down the busy street, glancing in windows as she passed, nodding at the few people who caught her eye and smiled. She was supposed to meet someone... somewhere... oh well, she'd know when she got there. A few blocks later she found herself turning into a restaurant. French, no less. "Ah, he's been expecting you, Madam." Leslie was led to a booth near the back of the building. She nearly fell over when she saw who had arrived first. Nick and the garcon exchanged a few words in flawless francais as Leslie sat, stunned. Before she could speak, Nick flickered out, then back, then out again, like a hologram or a choppy transmission. "I have something for you," he said as he handed her a long box, elegantly wrapped. The ribbon caught the light and exploded in a shine of color, revealing the spider-web like pattern that adorned it. The design was geometrical, yet it flowed somehow, she thought. "Open it," he said, smiling. Leslie felt like a kid at Christmas as she tore at the package. She gasped as she pulled out a sword, a katana, golden and jeweled, bearing her name intricately engraved in calligraphy on the blade. A blade sharp enough to split a hair. She knew, because she immediately plucked at her short hair and tested it. "It's magnifi--" Nick was gone. Something flashed toward the front of the restaurant, and Leslie felt compelled to pursue. She gathered up her wonderful present and hurried into the street. As Leslie wielded a mighty sword, and maybe a switchblade or two, in her sleep, her legs, fast in an imagined battle, slightly roused Laurey, who'd passed out in a sitting position again them, surely cutting off the blood flow to something important. As Leslie's imagined thrusts and parries intensified, Laurey slid slowly to the floor. The white-haired UFfer smiled as she dreamed...... Laurey's dream world smelled and sounded like a busy forest. She crouched, balancing on the balls of her feet, and squinted. She raised her field glasses and tried to find the Osprey she was sure she'd just seen. Nothing. Frustrated, she decided to head for home. Something bright flashed near the bottom limbs of an imposing oak tree about 50 yards ahead of her. She slowly headed that direction, determined to see what could be so bright and reflective up in a tree. When she'd read what she thought was a good vantage point, she used her glasses and was puzzled by what she'd found. A leaf. That reflected light. It looked almost jointed, everywhere, and it's veins couldn't be veins, as she'd never seen a leaf that followed the rules of geometry. She heard a step behind her and spun to see Nick smiling at her. Thought a foot from her, he looked as if he was yards away, seen through out of focus binoculars. "I have something for you." He pointed to a tree within perfect birding distance. Uncertainly, Laurey raised the glasses and nearly jumped at the sight. All on one branch, a Whooping Crane, a Spotted Owl, a Carrier Pigeon. Impossible, but there. "Oh my, oh my, how--" She heard the grass under moving feet, and then he was gone. She looked again at the only birds of those kinds she would ever see, burning the sight in her memory, and decided to follow Nick. As she reluctantly turned from the birds, a flash, maybe off binocular lenses, guided her way. Megan peeled her eyes open, trying to figure out what that weird noise was. It wasn't a snore, couldn't be. It was a coo, almost a chirping. It was Laurey. As she drifted off again, listening to Laurey's soft bird calls, she dreamed of... whoa, wait, this War is PG-13, isn't it? Suffice it to say, it was a good dream, she liked her gift, and the Unnamed Thingee glinted in hers too, okay? Debi smiled in her sleep, watching her infant giggle and throw a strange shining object into the air as four, fuzzy, squirrel-faced creatures pointed and gasped. Debi softly sang in dreamland. "Teletubbies, teletubbies.... say...eh...oh..." Presence whispered, "What has thou brought me, kind sir?" Nick, semi-transparent and dressed in clothes of the period, gave her a gift of Shakespeare. "Hamlet. Just finished." He gave her a letter, from William himself, the thick seal binding the paper not completely set even, but with a mesmerizing symbol impressed in its center. Though the seal was dull, and dark, the design seemed to refract the light. And Presence, in her dream, set out in pursuit of Nick, whispering, "Nicholas, Nicholas, wherefore art thou, Nicholas." Cleo jerked as her chocolate, potato-chip crazed bunny chewed happily on a bare toe. Her dream-Nick smiled as he opened an armoire full of jewelry of every kind. "A gift for you," the dream-Nick said. One pendant caught her eyes, its design round, yet octagonal, no, hexi--no, like a fly's eye cubed over and over. It was beautiful, shimmering as diamonds and gold, silver and brass, all at once. As she followed the ghost-like vampire, she grabbed handfuls of chunky bracelets, pendants, chains, a noisy ghost following a quiet one. As Cleo held up her hands in sleep, admiring jewelry that wasn't there, she knocked her pet, who'd taken to chewing on a chocolate- smeared finger, away and into Amie's lap. Startled, but still asleep, `Chele smiled, then shifted as her dream... Hey! I said PG-13. What is *wrong* with you people. Nick was there, and the Thingee, and all that. I can't believe I saw what I did, gosh. Good thing I don't have a bad heart. Anyhoo... As `Chele began some strange seductive dance in her sleep, Amie beamed in her sleep, thankfully taking the cookbook from Nick, an original, from his family's library. "I'm sure the recipe for Rosee of Hennys isn't as good as yours, but I thought you might like to have it anyway." As she hurriedly found the page and scanned the ingredients, he was gone. She set out after him, intent on catching him and making him taste one of her creations at long last..... End (1/2) Cousin Shelley netbus1@hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 29 11:57:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L7IR-0007hu-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:55:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8813; Sun, 29 Aug 99 11:52:49 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6650; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:52:49 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 08:54:14 -0700 Reply-To: Leslie GS Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Leslie GS Subject: WAR: UF: These Dreams (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c3c2bb16f51c724600792a354e54b30d WAR: UF: These Dreams (2/2) BY: Cousin Shelley (with a smidge at the end by Les GS) TIME: Still too early Friday morning, August 29th LOCATION: The Hive As Amie jerked in her sleep, stirring and beating and kneading, her foot twitched, contacting an empty pork rind bag and immediately setting off Shelley's pig skin radar. "Wha--" Shelley looked at the mess the little beasties had made in their feast and, resignedly, laid her head back down. "I'll clean it up...later." She drifted off. And then what do you think she did? Dreamed! Haven't you been paying attention? Schanke appeared, his outline defining him even as his features blurred. "Here hon, have a souvlaki. Man, oh man oh man--onions, garlic, the works. Enjoy!" He disappeared. Shelley started at the fragrant sandwich and began to walk, weaving through an endless corridor of passages and rooms, eerily without straight edges. A clinking drew her attention. Julia held out bottle with a cuffed hand, and hissed, "SSSSsssssssshelley, have sssssssssome Merlot?" Her hair fanned out a bit, looking curious like a Cobra's hood. Les, her hand through the other cuff, giggled as she removed the cork from the bottle with the tip of a lethal looking knife. "Sssssssseee you later then," the Cobra hissed and waved as Shelley pushed forward. Lauren nearly ran her over, hatchet in hand. "Shhhhh. Be vewy vewy quiet. I'm hunting pecakes." Lauren's eyes lit up. "It's on your head... hold really still." As she raised the hatchet, Shelley ran, shrieking a soundless shriek and silently wishing the pecake the best of luck. Laurey grabbed her arm. "Hey, what's up." Shelley looked at her deadpan. "Oh, nothing." "Whadd'ya mean what's up? I--" Laurey grabbed her friend, half-pulling, half-dragging her to a window. She lifted a Mr. Magoo sized pair of binoculars and jumped up and down in her excitement. "Look! A sparrow. A SPARROW!" "Oh geez." Shelley pushed forward, something warm from the Souvlaki dripping onto her hand. Familiar voices echoed from the next room. She couldn't make out the words, but the voices was unmistakable. Nick and LaCroix. The sound was tinny, as through an old-time radio (hey, it's a dream, whad'dya expect?) but they were there. This dream was lookin' up. As she entered the room, Screed/Not Screed popped in front of her, extending a day-old dead rat. The phosphorescent figure ran his fingers through his impressive afro and offered the rat again. "Won' a boite? He took a mouthful and chewed, using a finger to push a stray piece into his mouth. "Uhhhh..." Shelley started side-stepping away as dream-Screed called after her, in a completely understandable voice, free of any accent whatsoever. "Hey, it tastes like chicken." He shrugged and tore off another mouthful. As she turned to bolt, she came face to face with Nicholas. Now this dream was really turning into something! And he had this desperate, hungry look in his eye... "I want," he said, "I want...." All right! she thought. Her hopes built and built, and as he reached for her, they were dashed on the rocks of stupid-dream land. "I want a bite of that souvlaki!" He grabbed the partially smashed sandwich out of the disappointed woman's hands and tore into it, breaking every rule of mealtime etiquette ever written. Then, mouth still full, he nudged her and walked across the room, where dream-LaCroix stood, impassive, unimpressed. Nick stepped up to his master, his nose no more than inch from LaCroix's, and puffed a garlicy, onion, souvlaki breath smack into the older vamp's face. Nick giggled like a little boy as he walked off, happily munching. LaCroix sighed, a long-suffering expression on his face. Then he approached the gawking woman, and curled a long, pale finger into the side of her hair. "Do you know what I want?" His voice was low and sultry, his mouth a half-smile, his eyes laughed at a still concealed joke. "Let me show you what I want," he said, looking toward the ceiling, prompting Shelley to look up too. A huge ball hung from the ceiling, a ball with what looked like millions of diamond-like facets, and etched markings that formed some sort of pattern which was indiscernible, yet pleasing to the eye. The hanging 'orb' reminded her of a very elegant and ornate disco ball. As that thought passed through her head, a slow strobe light began its maddening flickering and LaCroix's face broke into a wide, confident smile. "I want," he said, slowing pulling his finger out of her hair, "to do the Funky Chicken!" The image of LaCroix flapping his elbows and twirling bent knees was all the UFfer could take. She ran screaming from the room, into the hall, out of the Hive. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" The screaming continued in bursts for a few seconds as each UFfer woke from a nightmare, startling themselves and each other into further screaming, and so on. "...Funky Chicken.... Mashed Potato... oh God, the Twist... he could *not* do the Locomotion to save his life... he did a pretty good Tango, though, but the polyester Zoot Suit was so scary..." The UFfers shared their dreams, all strange, all horrible, all eerily and inexplicably similar. And all had an unvoiced, indescribable urge to go outside. To the hives. No one moved, save Presence, who'd noticed an open window, and pair of stinger- less bees flying in loops above the VCR. "Bees don't fly at night, do they?" she said. The bees flew patterns around each woman's head, then flew and double-backed. There was no mistake. They wanted the UFfers to follow them. As the group converged on the backyard bee farm, not sure what they were looking for, curtains blew through open windows and the Hive shuddered imperceptibly to the humans. A shiny object, intricately engraved with faceted sides too many for the naked eye to count, hummed inside a beehive, drawing the crowd's attention. As if a localized earthquake was shaking only the ground below the hive, the small structure shimmied and shifted, its seams pulling apart enough to reveal a bright, shimmering light deep within it's center. The UFfers move toward it. The Hive, its windows open, wished them back with sheer force of will. Suddenly... they were gone, there was no glow, no tremor. The Hive sighed with relief. A dream. The humans were still sleeping, dreaming their own dreams, unawares of the glowing object hidden with the bees, virtually under their noses. Floors creaked and walls settled as it again rested. As the UFfers woke, sun in their eyes and cramps in most necks, no one spoke for a few seconds. Then Leslie broke the silence. "Wow, what a dream I had. There was uhh, I don't have an analog swimming pool with laces, I mean uhhh, so acorns is it, and.." The UFfers led Leslie into the kitchen for the caffeine she needed to form a coherent morning sentence, and while she fueled up, the others had their morning usuals and shared the details of their dreams. Leslie, properly refreshed after caffeine and the details of Megan's and Amie's dreams, chimed in. "So in each dream, Nick gave us some great gift. And in the end of each dream, LaCroix wanted that giant strobey-thing from the 70s. What does it all mean?" Two bees, sans stingers, flew in complex patterns above the espresso machine, drawing all eyes. After fully grasping everyone's attention, they flew outside, a curious group of UFfers close behind, followed by an assortment of pets. The rest of the bees, being bees, were already up and hard at work. So the rumbled crowd of humans stopped before they got close enough to trigger their instinct to protect their hives. The two bees they were tracking, however, continued into the apiary, where the were lost from sight among the other bees. But only for a moment, for the two sans stingers creatures zipped back out of the crowd, circled the humans, then zipped back in. "I'm suiting up," said Presence. "They want to show us something there in the hives." Her companions exchanged glances, astonished that the bee-fearing woman was willing to brave the swarm, even suited. But they didn't try to argue her out of it as they helped her put on the protective gear. "There they are again," called out `Chele, as their two guides buzzed up and then around them. This time Presence followed them in. They led her to one hive, to the opening where their sisters spilled out, free of pollen, while others flowed back in, fully laden. There danced a bee pavane on the far left hand edge, puzzling her for a moment. Why did they want her to see that particular spot? She peered more closely and saw something metallic wedged back inside. She didn't think it belonged there, though it stirred a vague memory of Illinois Jules using something to prop the pieces while constructing the hive. Slowly, heart pounding, murmuring, "I am good with bees and bees are good with me," she reached for it. Gently nudging aside the little honey-makers, she put hooked two fingers around the object and pulled it free. Her two stingerless guides zipped up and around her head in a victory flight. Taking another deep breath, she edged back away from the hive and walked back to the other UFfers. "What is it?" Cleo called as her friend approached. Presence, for the first time, took a good at what she held in her hand. Weird. A... geometrically shaped object with designs on it. The designs were oddly familiar, like those on the seal of Shakespeare's letter in her dream- Distracted, she tripped, stumbling a step as her toe hit a flagstone. The object went flying and Laurey's dog, Tybalt, leapt, snatching it from the air. A bizarre game of keep-away ensued, humans scrambling after one animal, then another, as the object, a pet toy, lo, these last two weeks, was passed from dog to bunny to cat to ferret then around again. Panting people shouted ignored commands, rousing the rest of the Hive. Julia, robe wrapped about her, face set in that and-I-haven't-even- had-one-cup-of-coffee-yet expression, opened the patio door to step out. Tybalt, once again in possession, darted toward it, aiming to get inside and continue this great game over and under the furniture. "GRAB HIM!!!" shouted every exhausted UFfer, which startled Julia so badly she actually did as she was told. She even went so far as to pry the prize from his mouth. "What is this?" Julia asked, gingerly holding the dog-slobbered object between finger and thumb. "It's the... the Thingie," stated Les, peering at it, all tuckered out with the day hardly started. "From my- from *all* our dreams." Dreams were not a subject Julia cared to dwell on. But as she gazed upon the Thingie, brows furrowed, a conversation she'd had with the Knighties, Roz and Eowyn, on Wednesday evening came back to her. "This Thingie is an Element," she declared. "Cadmium?" "Boron?" "Ytterbium?" "Krypton?" "Lithium?" "No!" she shouted. It was far too early for this. "A Piece. A Bit. A Section." "Of what?" Les asked humbly. "The staff Nick needs to put together to turn all the other vamps to vamps again." "Oh." "So... maybe we better give it to him. In case he wants it." "Tonight. At the feast." The Hive creaked softly and a change in air pressure caused tiny breezes to sigh beneath closed doors. It's lovely UnNamed Thingie. But... if The Guys needed it, best let it go without a fuss. End (2/2) Cousin Shelley netbus1@hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 29 12:17:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L7Zx-0004RS-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:13:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8903; Sun, 29 Aug 99 12:10:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7800; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:10:51 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 08:57:33 -0700 Reply-To: Teresa Stevenson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Teresa Stevenson Subject: WAR: Revenettes: Style Is More Than Basic Black (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e4abb2ce327eb4cb20759f3328909685 Title: Style is more than basic black (1/2) Authors: Ravenettes K=92kimmer, Lorna, Caroline, Alex and Teresa contributed ideas or segments. Soulseeker provided descriptions and history of certain items (You=92ll see =91em when they come =91round.) There=92s a DP homage. Cousin Mary=92s home phone number to the first person who spots it. [jk;)] Time: Starts Sunday Night, continues on Tuesday. Ravenettes just don=92t do Mondays. It=92s not fashionable. Have some Brie;-) Alex, K=92kimmer, Lorna and Caroline wandered into the back rooms at the Raven. "Sshh," K'kimmer reminded them. 'I think Janette=92s asleep. Let=92s not wake her. She=92d want to know how our evening went. Just because Janette=92s tad miffed at Nick, it doesn=92t mean she needs to hear about who won at pictionary, never mind what they won." "Bu, bu, bu. . ." started Caroline. "No," K'kimmer interrupted. "There=92s more to having good taste than basic black. There=92s keeping your traps shut too. Remember, exquisite in the medical sense means something so sharply painful, it makes you cry out. Shall we experience exquisite?" "Uh, K'kimmer," interjected Alex, "I think we get the picture, this time." Lorna, suspecting a pun in need of punishment, looked through the door to her room for a shoe to threaten Alex with. Suddenly, thoughts of punsters and pictionary vanished from her mind. Her eyes squinted at she looked at the assortment of clothing upon her bed. "Hey, What the heck did the N&N Pack put in that tea?" She inquired of the universe. "I=92m seeing impossible colors on my on bed." Alex, Caroline and K'kimmer crowded around her door. They didn=92t set foot over the threshold, they merely gaped from hallway. "No," breathed Caroline. She broke and ran for her room. Vague whimpering sounds floated back down hall to the other three Ravenettes. Lorna looked at Alex and K'kimmer. "What if whoever did this took all our clothes?" Alex bravely gave Lorna a push. "Go look," he said. "I=92ll check my room." The Ravenettes cautiously entered their rooms. They discovered their drawers were empty, their suitcases were empty, their closet were . . . well, you can guess. Alex came back out into the hall. He took a deep breath and announced, "I=92ve been pretty much cleaned out, but they did leave my shoes. I suppose that=92s something. Now what?" Caroline, who had worked up the courage to actually touch the stuff left on her bed, enlightened her faction mates, "I think the N&N Packers did this. Look at the pictures on the T-shirts. Mushy stuff. But what is this other stuff supposed to be? There are black shorts covered with lots and lots of tiny green and pink aliens...that glow in the dark. There are so many of the aliens that barely any of the black shows; they look mostly green and pink. Have I missed a fad somewhere?" K'kimmer gasped, "Now I recognize those things! They aren=92t so much a fad as an item that fit inwith the alien theme that first got started at 1st N&NPack MiniCon when one N&Ner brought several dome incased aliens. The 2nd Annual N&NPack MiniCon carried on the alien joke turned tradition, featured a couple pairs of matching alien short and vest sets, in different colors, for the auction. Several of the N&Ners were also seen sporting the same type of alien shorts and vests during con. That=92s where they come from." K'kimmer suddenly noticed all the Ravenettes staring at her. "Hey, it=92s not what you=92re thinking." she protested, "I don=92t have any hidden somewhere. I just have a friend who=92s really into the N&N Pack thing." The other Ravenettes crowded around to look closely at clothes. ("Clothes" used in most generic possible sense.) Cries of indignation woke other Ravenettes who joined them in the hall. The volume continued to rise punctured by the occasional shriek. Even Janette, who slept like the dead, heard the commotion and came out of her room. "Well, now," the softly spoken words created an instant of silence. "This is by no means the worst of what we=92ve been through." Janette smiled, not a nice smile exactly. "Let us not be hasty. I will entertain suggestions IN THE MORNING for a revenge." "Uh, yeah, right." K'kimmer turned to the Ravenettes. "Everybody, off to bed. We plot revenge over breakfast. That will give us all a reason to get up early." The Ravenettes retreated to their various rooms. The victims were lent nightclothes. The general air of indignation gave way to thoughtful, calculating, squinty-eyed pauses. *** Lorna had been pondering what to do about the clothes situation all night. The parties had just about done her in even though she was having the best time. Strange ideas usually came to her when she had to take pain medications in order to sleep and last night was no exception. She told K'kimmer her thoughts as soon as her friend entered the kitchen. "K'kimmer, we are Raven/ettes. We should be able to make anything stylish, even those outfits the N&N Pack left for us. Living well is the best revenge." Her friend always willing to go along with an interesting idea adds to the thought. "We could wear them to a showing of 'Austin Powers.'" With a bright smile Lorna quickly opens the paper to the entertainment section to check out the movies being shown in the Toronto area. Upon seeing a short article she breaks into laughter and indicates the article to K'kimmer as she wipes the tears from her face. "Someone is actually going to air Highlander 2: The Quickening and expects people to attend the movie that never existed?" "Read a bit further. It seems they are going to MST3K the thing. It is a perfect setting for the outfits. We could name the aliens on the shorts even. I think there is one on my pair that looks just like Connor." Alex and Teresa entered the kitchen. Having heard the laughter as they came down the hall, they wanted to know what the plan was. Lorna and K'kimmer filled them in. Alex wanted to know, "Is the MST3 thing going to be audience participation?" He continued before they had a chance to answer, "Hey, you can just heckle the movie. That should be fun." The Ravenettes laughed. Alex explained his plans for revenge, slammed down a quick breakfast and went off to make preparations for the raid on the theater. Teresa suggested, "You know, we need to go shopping. You don=92t have to go out in public in those outfits, or worse yet, into stores. I was up most of last night looking for local Toronto stores with web sites. I found some very interesting stuff. We could order for you and go pick it up or have it delivered." "Shopping?" Multiple eyes widened, heads came up, a predatory style of body movement emerged. "Show us." Teresa showed them. First stop was Phantom Industries, Inc. (TM), a local firm making essential female garments - hosiery, lingerie and swimwear. (for a list of URL=92s, please see the end of the post) The best feature was the store locator. The local list was saved for future reference. Next, for Alex=92 benefit, was a store called Tom=92s Place (TM). Location was noted. Janette was consulted. Imported English fabric met with her approval, even more approved was the website=92s suggestion that the entire look could be coordinated from the stock. Teresa trotted out her personal favorite - Big Bold and Beautiful (TM). "Look! Slinky this and slinky that! In wonderful colors. A duster vest." Fingers danced over the keys. All that was missing was the smell of credit cards heating up. Caroline looked at Teresa=92s list. "What is this Artistic Image(TM) place?" "Ah, now that is a place which will put anything - anything at all - on a piece of clothing. PG war not withstanding." "Oooh, hey, Janette=92s in the bathroom. Let=92s quick order Raven/ette T-shirts with her picture on them. We can surprise on the last day of the War and wear them as we leave." Caroline practically shoved Teresa off the chair in her eagerness to carry out her plan before Janette got back. The last virtual stop was the Great Canadian Hemp Company(TM) The shirts were the latest most avant garde elegant items seen so far. Plus they were guaranteed for life. The guy cut shirts were snapped up by the Ravenettes and a couple extras were ordered the absent Raven and the ex vampires assisting him. Teresa grinned at her accomplices. "I have one more place. We Ravenettes are laying dibs on it. Customized clothing ladies, they let you be the designer. Shall we?" To a chorus of "yes, hurry up" and a couple of pokes, Teresa took them to secret treasure, Peach Berserk (TM). They pored over the designs, the fabric options. The fun stuff. Caroline let out a shriek "Look, they=92ve got a print with female silhouettes on it. I=92m getting one. The heck with pink aliens." After a frenzy of buying, the Ravenettes were drooping, ready for coffee, Dr. Pepper(TM)or whatever. Teresa hesitated and then asked "You all done? We haven=92t found an excuse to rent costumes. There is a place called Thunder Thighs(TM). It=92s got a nifty address too. It=92s on Busy Street." Janette intervened. "You=92ve had a very busy morning. I think that=92s enough for now. I do my best work when I=92m feeling rested. You can pick up the packages tomorrow and once we=92ve tried everything on, if we=92re missing some essentials, we can go get more." End (1/2) From - Sun Aug 29 12:32:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L7oX-0004th-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:28:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9084; Sun, 29 Aug 99 12:20:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9320; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:20:40 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 09:07:24 -0700 Reply-To: Teresa Stevenson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Teresa Stevenson Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: Style More than Basic Black (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d5cddb11efcb65029e8b40d94860bfd9 Title: Style Is More Than Basic Black (2/2) Authors: Ravenettes K'kimmer, Lorna, Caroline, Alex and Teresa contributed ideas or segments. Soulseeker provided descriptions and history of certain items (You=92ll see 'em when they come 'round.) There=92s a DP homage. Cousin Mary=92s home phone number to the first person who spots it. [jk;)] Time: Starts Sunday Night, continues on Tuesday. Ravenettes just don=92t do Mondays. It=92s not fashionable. Have some Brie;) Tuesday morning: Teresa and Claudia took the van Janette kept for errands and headed out to pick the packages. They were going to swing by the theater to admire Alex=92s progress with the ravens. As they approached theater, about 2 blocks away. Claudia suddenly sat up and pointed. "Aren=92t those our clothes?" There were two women on the sidewalk accompanied by a fellow. Their clothes taken piece by piece were excellent. The total look however, just didn=92t quite coalesce. Teresa slowed the van abruptly to look. She replied, "Isn=92t that Alex=92 jacket? It is and the taller one is wearing some of K=92kimmer=92s stuff!" There were 3 parking spaces in a row open down the street just ahead of the trio on the sidewalk. Teresa whipped the van into them in quickest bit of tank parallel parking ever achieved. She turned to Claudia. "Let=92s grab them." Claudia looked at her, "And do what with them?" "Hey, we can figure that out later." Claudia shrugged, the two got into the cargo space and waited by the door for the N&N Packers to come up beside the van. The moment they were in position, the Ravenettes leapt out of the van and each grabbed a female and lugged her into the van so quickly there was no time to react. Claudia sat on both of them while Teresa threw the van into gear and drove off slowly down the street. The male N&N Packer gave chase. Teresa kept just barely ahead of him for about a block. Then she stuck her out the window and yelled at him, "So, you want to catch us, do you? We can make a deal." The poor guy put on a burst of speed, "What kind of a deal?" "We=92re Ravenettes and we=92re shopping. We need somebody to carry our packages." The poor guy abruptly stopped, forcing Teresa to stop also. "Is that all?" "Well basically, ladies shouldn=92t have to carry bundles. And it=92s your fault we need clothes. Hurry up and get in." The poor guy, realizing he was dealing with Ravenettes and therefore he was inevitably outnumbered and outvoted regardless of headcount, figured the only way to win was to lose gracefully. He threw up his hands and climbed on board. The Ravenettes and their helpers introduced themselves all round. Teresa and Claudia hadn=92t been to the pictionary party and the N&N packers were new to them. The N&N packers turned out to be Monique and Shannon. "The poor guy" was an N&N Packer named Kevin. The N&N Packers vigorously denied any direct involvement in the raid on the Raven. The Ravenettes chorused "Yeah, right." Claudia leaned forward and fingered a familiar scarf. "You know," she said meditatively, "I always wore this with the brown top. With the green, I just don=92t know . . ." Shannon blushed and blurted out, "We were going to return them, honest. It was that. . . well, you know. We wanted to see what we looked like wearing them." Monique piped up, "Somehow they all looked better on your faction. I don=92t understand. They fit, they just don=92t look right." Claudia and Teresa grinned at each. "To quote Janette, style is more than basic black. Look, after we=92ve picked up the packages, you can stay while we try them on." Claudia offered. The N&N Packers looked at each other. Kevin smiled. "Say yes, girls. So we can get this show on the road." They said Yes. FINI Promised URL=92s (okay, so I couldn=92t resist a few comments too.) Plus I threw in a few I found but didn=92t use. They are all Toronto based. Phantom Industries, Inc. (TM) - hosiery, lingerie, swimwear; http://www.phantom.ca Tom=92s Place (TM) http://www.Toms-place.com - Imported suits etc for men Big, Bold and Beautiful(TM) http://www.bigboldandbeautiful.com - For those of us who are ships under full sail. And they ship too. Artistic Images(TM) - www.artimp.com - they=92ll put ANYTHING on a piece of clothing. Great Canadian Hemp Company(TM) - www.canhempco.com (Smokeable clothes? ;) TAH DAH!! Peach Berserk Cocktails(TM) - http://www.peachberserk.com/peach/ Amazing clothes - This is kind of place Janette opened after Last Knight, which never happened. We belong here. They=92re on Queen St. in TO. How did the NA ever miss them? Resource Rags(TM) - VINTAGE clothes, Ladies, serious amounts of them. http://www.resourcerags.com Starkers (TM) - specializing in corset and goth clothing. http://www.starkers.com Thunder Thighs (TM) - Costume rental - should we ever need it. Love the address - 16 Busy St. TO http://www.thunderthighs.com From - Sun Aug 29 12:37:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L7sw-0000ys-01; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:32:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0176; Sun, 29 Aug 99 12:23:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9454; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:23:02 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:23:20 -0400 Reply-To: mclisa@MINDSPRING.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: Yes, there will be another X-To: FK To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d331feaaa473944afd769216e9d3804d I just want to say, in response to a number of offlist enquiries and because I've recovered my cool (or whatever I usually have ), that yes, there will be another war. It will be at least six months, maybe longer, which is not unusual. There will be much working out, with input from you, of a standard set of war rules which will be separate from the premise and rulings which a WM makes. Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Sun Aug 29 12:37:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L7sx-0000ys-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:32:51 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0192; Sun, 29 Aug 99 12:27:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9719; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:27:23 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:29:16 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: UF: Wine & Honey (1/2) -- repost approved by McLisa To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 299d92a1f18c6c893c49553b57d4bf05 Reposted with the Listowner's permission WAR: UF: Wine & Honey (1/2) By: Lauren Hawes, Les GS, Julia Kocich, with thanks to Amie LaRouche Setting: The Hive, UF HQ; The Loft, Knightie HQ Time: Friday, Aug. 27 afternoon and evening ~~~~~ AT THE HIVE, early afternoon: "So ... I mean, I know I don't participate very much in all the Warring, but ..." said Illinois Jules, who sat at the long oak table in the kitchen. She watched closely as Amie chopped what appeared to be several pounds of dark, rich chocolate. "Yes, Jules? It's all right. Just tell us what's on your mind," replied Julia, looking up from her research on medieval beverages. "Well, it's like this ... Um ... I think it's great we're feeding The Other Guy, but ..." Before she could finish, Julia began pontificating: "... but why aren't we feeding Lacroix an authentic meal of his time? Jules, you know that if this faction *had* a name, its middle one would be 'Pedantic.' Amie is an ardent student of medieval and renaissance cuisine. If we *had* someone expert at preparing whatever it was Romans ate, then we certainly *would* offer to prepare a meal like ... the slaves used to make, in the good old days before Pompeii went pop." "Dormice. On toast." Lauren called from her work at the other end of the spacious room. She was making pastry dough for the pie. "Served with a sauce call `garum' - made from fish eggs left to rot in the sun for a month, then mixed with a little vinegar." One of the eels in the pail by her leg moved, and a small splash of water hit the floor. "Ick, ick, ick." Les had been pressed into service washing vegetables and fruits. Pears and apples, polished to a glow, were piled into a copper bowl on the counter. "And I've read they ate hippopotamus noses and larks' tongues too." Jules, a light shade of pistachio green, left the kitchen in favor of the more hospitable climes of the Blue Room. Amie and Lauren stayed in the kitchen, slicing, chopping, measuring, marinating, flouring, reducing, pureeing, straining, baking, roasting, sauteing and generally working their long, elegant UFfish fingers to the bone. Even though the Knighties had brought in extra stoves to make cookies for Nick, Amie preferred the Hive's equipment and the relative quiet and spaciousness of its kitchen. Weasel and Refrigerator had already made several trips in the FedEx van, shuttling gingerbread, cakes, bread, tartlets, the crock of honeyed peaches and several items no one but Amie could identify over to the Loft. It had been decided, for practical and esthetic reasons, that all the dirty pots, pans, dishes and utensils would be stored in the Loft elevator and removed unobtrusively by the same two ... gentlemen. "Lauren?" The Uffer glanced over at the chef, who was staring despondently at a tray of marchpane, a spoon full of glossy white frosting in her upraised hand. "Is this a good idea? I mean ... now that Nick knows he has to ... go back across." Amie sighed. "How could he even want to eat?" "Well ... we agreed to cook this dinner. I know the circumstances have changed, but Nick ... he might want to experience all the mortal sensations he can. And eating this meal will certainly be a fine memory for him." "I suppose you're right." A pensive look on her face, Amie turned back to the task at hand. There was still a large amount of work to do, if the Feast was to be perfect ... A few hours later Laurey walked into the kitchen, carefully averting her eyes from the still form that lay on the stainless steel prep table, covered with a sheet. Only the blue-green iridescence of the feather that had fallen on the floor gave away its identity. "Hi. Sure smells great in here. What are you doing?" Amie turned around from the drawer she was searching through, a very long skewer in her hand. "We're about to finish the Second Soteltye. Wanna help?" Laurey backed quickly out of the kitchen and Lauren firmly shut the door behind her. Les, leaning back against a counter, arms crossed over her chest, watched as Amie and Lauren began to drape the skin, feathers still attached, back over the royal carcass. "So," she ventured, "you just cooked it like a turkey?" "We roasted it, yes, but that's only the beginning. It's the presentation that's complicated." "Yeah, gilded feet and all, I see that," said Les, nodding. She watched as Lauren took a trussing needle and began to make dainty little stitches, sewing the skin back on. "After you take all the fancy hoo-hah off, does it carve like a turkey or a goose?" Amie bit her lip, looking a little worried. "I suppose so. Though I'm not really expert at carving those either." Lauren looked at her, aghast. "You're not?" "No! I'd hoped you were!" "Well ... I can get slices of meat off the roast." Both women stared at one another, Amie's hands stilled in her attempt to get the tail feathers to stand upright. "Carving, oh, that's a cinch," Les informed them absently, fiddling with a cute little paring knife. Amie eyed Les suspiciously. "I thought you didn't know anything about cooking." Les looked up at her, mildly surprised by her tone. "Cooking, carving: they're completely different things. With carving you have to be sensitive to the placement of the joints, how they bend, how the flesh sits on the bones beneath, its 'grain' and how to cut to get it to fall cleanly-" "Fine. *You* will carve the peacock." "Me? Uh." Les ran a hand nervously through her hair. "Uh. But, but, at the Loft ... No, I don't think so." "For heavens' sake, why ever not?" "I ... don't have anything to wear?" tried Les. "Someone will lend you something pretty," Amie promised. "I *really* don't think so," she growled, resembling Churchill even sans benefit of a cigar. Lauren flung up her hands. "Honestly, Les, it doesn't matter *what* you wear, so long as it's clean. But, you see, the carving of a peacock is special, there's a sense of ritual to it. It's-it's a true art form." "Yeah?" said Les slowly, interested despite her better sense. "Yes," Lauren affirmed, tones enticing. "It requires precise work with a very sharp knife, an intimate knowledge of avian musculature and a certain amount of upper body strength." "Yeah?" Les repeated, well under Lauren's verbal spell. "It would be a real shame to leave this ultimate carving moment in the hands of someone who has no idea what to do with a sharp knife" "Yeah." Les's murky green eyes hazed as she said dreamily, "Yeah. Okay. I'll- what's the medieval term?" "Dysfygure the pecake." "Yeah. I'll dysfygure the pecake." ~~~~~~~~ Continued in part 2. From - Sun Aug 29 12:47:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L85k-0001Mz-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:46:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2227; Sun, 29 Aug 99 12:43:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1170; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:43:51 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:45:34 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: UF: Wine & Honey (2/2) -- repost approved by McLisa To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ba589c924510d7014a539e9b0efe170d Reposted by permission from the listowner WAR: UF: Wine & Honey (2/2) By: Lauren Hawes, Les GS, Julia Kocich, with thanks to Amie LaRouche Setting: The Hive, UF HQ; The Loft, Knightie HQ Time: Friday, Aug. 27 afternoon and evening Nick and Knighties used with permission. AT THE LOFT, that evening: The UFfers couldn't help nudging each other as they rode up in the elevator. "Who would ever have imagined that we, the Unnamed Faction, would be allowed into the Loft, and actually prepare a banquet for Nick and the Knighties?" asked Megan. The heavy door slid open and they tumbled out, carrying as much as they could handle. "Here, let me help," said Nick, stepping forward like the perfect host. "Gosh." "Wow." "Hi." "Gulp." "Sh ... I mean ... thanks so much." Nick watched the women with a slight smile of amusement. They were clearly thrilled to finally be inside the Loft that they believed they knew so well. "Please, put your things down and let me give you a quick tour." As the small group followed in Nick's wake, Julia looked at her watch. She knew this meal would take some time to finish preparing, to serve, and, most important, to eat. Once a stage manager, always a stage manager ... a sharp glance at Amie and Lauren, who were busy admiring the handsome blond police detective, sent them both scurrying into the kitchen. Amie donned her big black apron and prepared to put the final touches on the meal. After the impromptu tour concluded, Nick excused himself to go upstairs and change his clothes. "How is he"? Julia quietly asked Roz, after Nick had left the room. "What do you think?" Roz said with a trace of bitterness. "He's crushed. There's nothing he ... we ... can do." "Here's the, uh, thing." Julia handed the unnamed thingy to the Knightie, not bothering to mention that she had been forced to extract it, coated with drool, from Tybalt's firmly clenched jaws. "I'm sorry. At least he can control the ritual now," she offered. Despite the somber mood that threatened to overshadow the Feast, Laurey, Megan, Chele, and Susan mingled with Roz, Sandra, Nancy, and the other Knighties as introductions were made. Julia deftly uncorked several bottles of wine at the bar. Les, with Amie's antique carving knife clutched in a velvet bag, accepted a cup of the small ale that had been brewing for days. The Loft looks beautiful, Julia thought, as she quit struggling with a bottle of mead and simply set it on the bar for someone else to open. Red and white roses were massed in silver vases placed about the great room, and tall ivory tapers threw a soft glow everywhere. The Knighties had set up a long table, draped in the snowiest of linens, set with silver chargers and sparkling crystal. At either end, candelabrum, their bases draped in ivy, added more illumination. A sideboard, pushed against the far window, held an array of dishes: melons, grapes, and cheeses; a basket overflowing with bread of all sorts, little plates of pickled mushrooms and artichokes. A succulent ham took center stage, surrounded by pates and stalks of sweet fennel. Anticipation built as the odors from the kitchen drifted through the loft, and several of the Knighties looked furtively around for the peacock. A hush swept through the Loft as the guest of honor, dressed in a loose white shirt and black leggings, descended the stairs to gaze with some amusement at the medieval tableau set before him. "Nick, how do we look? Authentic?" Susan wore a cutaway surcoat of gold brocade over a pale-blue satin gown lined with gold silk. On her head rested a circlet of jeweled pearls and her blue velvet shoes were decorated with matching gems. Smiling, Nick took a long look at Susan, who started to blush, and then he turned and regarded the crowd of UFfers and Knighties. Most of the women had donned their idea of medieval costume, long gowns in sumptuous fabrics and bright colors such as the Queen of France had never seen. They were all smiling back at him, sincere and hopeful, and Nick realized with a pang that he could never explain the realities of his life in the 13th century. Let them play, he thought. "Ladies, you are all beautiful. I am delighted to accompany you to our feast." He bowed and swept his arm toward the dining table, sparkling in the candlelight. The Feast began as the guests took their seats, Julia poured more wine, and Chele and Lauren brought out the first courses. Amie, too nervous to actually eat, stayed in the kitchen, moving gracefully in her violet-colored Raphaelesque gown as she hovered over her delectable creations ... ... Roast pork in a sauce of red wine and coriander ... a tart of spinach with a golden latticework crust ... cabbages and apples baked with honey and butter ... the first tastes hesitant, then enthusiastic as the rich and exotic flavors exploded in the guests' mouths ... ... "The First Soteltye" Lauren intoned dramatically as she brought in a large pie, its pastry dome festooned with stars and half-moons cut into the sloping sides. "A starry gazey pie." Nick, lost in a reverie of his own, took a large sip of wine and stared at the pie. Delicious ... An eel poked its silvery head through a star and did, indeed, gaze around at the table of startled diners. Several more eels followed, darting and waving, as they criss-crossed the top of the pie, searching for a way out of the hot filling that would soon steam them to a delicate mouthful. "Oh, my god." "Excuse me." There was a rustle of silk as Nancy stepped away from the table and stood, staring, at a slight distance. "Hey, eels! I *love* eels!" Heads turned in Julia's direction, disapprovingly. "Well ... we *are* kinda related," said the UF listcobra. But seeing the real discomfort of some around the table, she tried to convince them that this wasn't a culinary attack. "Strange as it might seem to us now, this is a dish Nick would have been served. Right, Nick?" Nick looked at the writhing eels and thought back. "Yes," he said, "I remember eating pies like this ...." He saw the looks on some faces and smiled. "But that doesn't mean you have to, if you don't want to." "What is a soteltye, Nick?" ventured Sandra, looking across the pie at Nick. "Courses between the main dishes. Food made to look like other things, boats made of spun sugar, amusements for the guests ... I know the last banquet before I ... ah" his voice trailed off as Nick remembered that Janette had been at that banquet too. He picked up the serving fork and helped himself to the pie. "Anyone else?" The Knighties faced a moment of crisis. Let Nick eat alone, or join in? After much silent communication around the table, almost every Knightie accepted a small slice of pie. The extravagant courses continued ... Nick, presented with a dish of chicken minced with rose petals, sprinkled with more petals, glanced towards the kitchen and caught sight of Amie, still for a moment. Her eyes fixed on him, expression anxious, as he slowly brought a morsel of the chicken to his mouth. His brows lifted at the taste. "Rosee of Hennys!" he exclaimed in delight. "I had this in my lord's house when I served as squire. Perfect." Pleasure suffused Amie's face and she returned to her post with renewed delight. ... tiny mushroom tarts, tasting of earth and cream ... a soup of wine and almonds, followed by rice suffused with the bright taste of saffron ... sorbets of pomegranate and lemon, served in frosty silver cups ... the smell of cinnamon, cloves, ginger, all mysterious spices Nick had first sampled during his Crusade ... Each dish was like Proust's madeleines, and evoked a sharp, specific memory. The conversation at the table waxed and waned, as Nick recalled a particular time he had tasted this or that, or told them of a particular moment and people from his mortal past. ... "The Second Soteltye" Lauren said very softly, as she and Amie carried in the gilded peacock on a huge silver platter. Quiet reigned as the magnificent bird, its tail feathers fanning out behind, was placed on the table. Amie stepped forward and cut away the skin, removing the feathers in a single gesture that left only the perfectly roasted meat. Les, a stark contrast in an onyx studded tuxedo shirt and leather vest among the jeweled colors around the table, lifted the peacock from its nest, piercing it with the long fork in her left hand. Face serene, the antique blade in her right flashed, precise slices of the upraised roast falling to the platter beneath in a rising, overlapping spiral pattern. The cleaned carcass she placed on the plate Lauren offered her. Setting down the fork and knife, she sprinkled a pinch of salt over the meat. Finally, she picked up the platter and offered it to their honored diner. Nick smiled, saying, "Neatly done. I almost dropped it the first time I dysfygured the pecake." He neglected to mention he'd been 14 years old at the time. Les, with something like a tiny bow, stepped back, blinking in the brightness of his smile. The amazing procession of dishes continued to pour from the kitchen of the Loft. Sweet desserts-gingerbread and quince paste, a lemony custard, fudge concocted from rosewater and almonds; a chocolate cake named for the devil, so perfect was its decadence. And finally, the fruit, glistening, soaked with honey, cream and spices, piled high in a golden dish. Sighs rose from those at the table, a mix of admiration and of regret for sated stomachs. Nick, leaning on long past experience, as well as the enthusiasm with which his friends had fed him during these past two weeks, had paced himself carefully. Now, with perfect aplomb, he spooned a generous portion of the honeyed peaches onto his plate. He tasted them, then, with utter concentration, slowly savored every bite. With a contented smile, he leaned back in his chair, hands coming to rest on his belly. Les slid up to remove his empty plate as Julia approached from the other side to top off his glass. "The peaches," Nick began, looking back and forth between them. "I've never had them before. They were excellent, but I'm afraid I can't tell if they were authentic or not." Julia and Les glanced at each other, then Julia replied, "Actually, that was something Amie created herself. Based on a 1st Century Roman recipe." "Oh." Nick paused, looking thoughtful. "So that was something that Lacroix might have eaten." "That's ... possible," Julia said slowly. She glanced back up at Les, who had drawn in and was now holding a breath. "Send him a batch. To ... remind him how sweet mortality can be." .... as the hour grew late, Nick stood at the door, saying goodbye to each of his guests. He kissed Amie's hand, and whispered to her "Thank you. It was perfect. I will never forget it, I promise." The UFfers were unusually silent in the elevator going down. "Well, I ... think he liked it," said Laurey. Julia smiled. "You do realize that we just managed to ... alter the adage of FK Wars, don't you?" "What do you mean?" "Well, this wasn't an attack, but it was the sincerest form of affection." Les fixed Julia with a severe look. "Julia. Do I detect an iota of... sentiment?" Julia gasped, alarmed. "Was that what that was? I'm... I'm sorry. It's this War-" "Well..." Les's voice softened. She glanced around at the other UFfers, and they nodded. "It's all right. Just this once. Considering the circumstances and all." "War is heck," Lauren murmured. *THE END* From - Sun Aug 29 15:58:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L8oC-0002jb-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 13:32:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9335; Sun, 29 Aug 99 13:29:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4592; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 13:29:48 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 13:31:42 EDT Reply-To: Knightwave@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: + All Subject: WAR: UF: Can't See The Forest For The Trees To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e9ce5b614b9559a62fed706c9fbda444 WAR: UF: Can't See The Forest For The Trees By: April Hackett & Susan Ellen Field Setting: Right after the Circle Celebration, Thursday 26, 1999 Time: Late Night Everyone used with permission "Are you sure the Dakota is parked here?" Lora asked again, shining the flashlight ahead of them. "Pretty sure," April replied aiming the beam from her light toward Lora's as they scanned the area for any familiar landmark. "It was lighter when we arrived." "Guys? Didn't we pass this place before? Everything looks really familiar!" Becky said, feeling a bit nervous. "How can you tell? Trees are trees," Cleo asked, curious. Taking a deep breath, Megan replied, "Are you saying you think we're lost?" "No, not exactly..." Becky returned, her voice drifting off, not wanting to consider that they could be turned around. "Never fear!!" Debi exclaimed. "According to the scout manual, we can find out where north is by checking which side of the trees the moss is growing on!" April laughed softly, tickled this myth would come up. "Debi, I hate to burst your bubble with logic - I do appreciate your woodsy expertise, but that tree over there," April pointed her light toward one of the trees to their left, "has moss on one side. And that one over there," she directed the light just ahead of them, "has moss on the other side. And this tree," April slapped her hand affectionately on a large oak, "has moss on all four sides." "Oh." Debi's happy expression fell as she absorbed these facts. Lora piped in. "Yes, well... this has all been very educational, but I believe the parking lot was on the South side!" "No, it wasn't, Presence argued. "I'm sure the parking lot was on the west side of the park." While everyone started arguing about which direction they should go, Susan walked ahead a short way. "Hey everyone, look at this!" The group of lost UFfers hurried to Susan's side, curious about what she had discovered. Lora bent down and picked up the object, shining her flashlight on it. It was a black bathrobe and a silver spoon. "Uggh!" Lora suddenly groaned, dropping the robe. Her hand had touched something wet and sticky. It felt disgusting. She couldn't tell what it was in the wan light. "Hey, isn't that Becky's robe?" Shan asked, remembering her wearing the silver spoon like a necklace. "Gods, you're right," April replied, worried. "Oh my gosh!!" exclaimed Presence, her camera slipping from her fingers to swing from the wrist strap. After losing two other cameras, she's learned to be careful. "Either she is totally lost by the War scenario, or...or--" "Are you saying that you think something in this park grabbed her?" Arnie's expression wavered from worry to fear. "When was the last time anyone saw her?" April asked. "She was right behind me when we left the celebration," Cleo quickly chimed in. Suddenly a cold shiver ran through the group. April felt guilty. She was the one driving after all; it was her job to remember where the truck was parked, and now they were lost. Wanting to lighten everyone up, Shan pulled a small penlight from her pocket and held it under April's face, getting an extreme close-up of her worried face. Since Presence had seen the same movie, she started video taping. "Shan, what the hell are you doing?" April snapped, slapping at the penlight in annoyance. "You know, this would make a good movie," Megan said. "You think?" said Lora. "Oh yeah, just imagine the set-up: due to the negligence and inexperience of a leader, a group of people are lost in the park - hungry, afraid, turning on each other!" April spoke into the camcorder. "You guys are full of sh-" "April! PG, remember?" Susan exclaimed. A low growl of annoyance rumbled from the tall blond. She gave Susan a deep frown as she realized her friend was dragging her into another one of her silly plotlines. Susan gave her writing partner a puppy dog pout, then smiled sweetly. The rest of the Uffers stood back and watched in amazement, fascinated by the skill of manipulation Susan could work over April. Shan used her penlight and looked at her watch, counting how many seconds April could stand against Susan's assault. //Damn, wish Jules was here. I'm sure I'd win this time. She's not going to last 10 seconds this time.// Shan thought, contemplating past bets when Susan and April butted heads. " All right," April caved, mumbling, "I can't believe I'm going to do this." Susan smiled a radiant smile. //Ha! 8 seconds!// Everyone moved back into position as April took a deep breath. She looked over her shoulder and whispered to Susan, "You owe me a big payback for this." Turning back to Presence, she and plastered a contrite expression on her face and groveled, "I... I'm so sorry, it was all my fault, I should have paid attention to what it said on the parking sign." "Did you hear something?" Susan said, playing it up big. "Holy cow!! Look!" Everyone turned around. A pair of large frightening eyes seemed to peer at them through the darkness. The trees seemed to take on a life of their own as something was getting closer and closer to the group! "Every UFfer for themselves!" screamed Shan, as the group took off frantically in every direction. Shouting and screaming was heard in the night. "OOOMF!!" Lora bounced off a tree, landing on her butt. Megan crashed into Cleo and Presence, causing a wild tangle of black clad arms and legs. April ran into Susan, causing them both to fall to the ground. Shan fell into a pile of leaves, causing Arnie to trip, falling on top of her. Still the spirit of the park pursued its prey as it got ever closer. Its bright eyes pierced right through them, blinding them...sealing their fate as it closed in. A collective scream was heard, as the friends huddled together before the end. Footsteps were heard. "Er Guys?" April, (the only one brave enough to open her eyes, looked up.) "Becky?" At the sound of human voices, everyone opened their eyes. "I found the Dakota! It was parked down the path a bit, next to the 'No parking' sign." Becky faltered, confused by the total silence from everyone. Moreover, why were they all sitting on the ground? "I was driving towards you when you all started to run!" "So, the large eyes in the night, and the sounds we heard... and the trees moving, it was you?" asked Presence. "Yeah!!" April fell back laughing hysterically. "Wait!! We found your bathrobe, and spoon laying on the ground!" Shan said. Lora joined April. "Oh that!! I took it off. Some bird pooped on it!" Lora stopped laughing, remembering that she had touched something yucky on that robe. "You mean I put my hands on? "Oh Sh...T!!" "Lora!" Susan admonished. "PG, remember?" "Come-on guys, let's get out of here," April stated, heading towards her truck. As she walked up to the truck, she whirled around. "Wait a minute, Becky, how did you get my keys?" "You gave them to me," Becky replied. "I did?" Memory surfaced finally. "Oh yeah, I did." "Yeah, that's why I went to get the truck instead of staying with you guys. "Uh, why were you guys walking around in the trees in the dark?" A collected mumble of replies floated by, none of them really understood as everyone began climbing into the Dakota. As April pulled away from the 'no parking' area, Susan and Cleo glanced out of their window. They both started in surprise; they were sure they saw a figure of a woman running through the woods. The End From - Sun Aug 29 15:58:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L91R-00039o-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 13:45:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0550; Sun, 29 Aug 99 13:42:10 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5972; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 13:42:10 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 13:43:58 EDT Reply-To: DanaKnight@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Judy Freudenthal Subject: War: NP: Picking up the Pieces 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 29dceecee8678361d9fc21e6ea0063b8 Picking up the Pieces 1/1 Nat's apartment Saturday morning 8/28 by Judith Freudenthal with a little input from Debra Ann. Terri used with permission. More information had come around to show how important it was for Nick to have the pieces of the cube by the full moon. Judy looked around the loft, hoping to spot Meg. Just as she was about to give up, she saw Meg over in the corner wolfing down a snack. "Meg, you have to give up your pendant. Nick needs it." "But it's so pretty and shiny." Meg knew Judy was right. "Can I give it to him?" "Sure. Three of us will go, you, me and Debra Ann." Judy made a quick call to Nick's loft where the phone was answered by Terri. "I heard Nick really needs the pieces of the Galen cube. We have one. Can we stop by in a little while to drop it off?" "Sure. I'll be here all morning." Terri said. "Nick will be pleased to hear another piece has been found and is beign returned." Judy hung up and turned to the group. "Should we ask Nat to go with us?" "Nah. Nat's pretty busy as it is." Meg said. Some of the group wondered if Nat's knowing that things would change after the war was one of the reasons she hadn't spent more time with Mortal Nick. She didn't want them to start anything they couldn't finish after his revamping. Others felt it was the wise thing to do. Before long the three NatPackers left to deliver the cube part. From - Sun Aug 29 15:58:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L9Xk-0001rv-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 14:19:04 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2714; Sun, 29 Aug 99 14:16:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8071; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 14:16:51 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 11:18:46 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR: Nothers: A Nother Little Problem Solved (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2ae32cbd83c9978ddfca0ed22d0875c6 Title: A Nother Little Problem Solved (01/01) By: NightDancer Time: Tuesday, August 24, 1999, the morning after the Conversion Day festivities, 10:00 AM, EST Location: Le Chateau des Autres All real people (me and Fleurette) used by permission and Harry is the joint property of the Nothers. "Harry?" NightDancer's voice echoed through the halls of le Chateau des Autres as she wandered down one passageway after another in search of the Nothers' staff magician. After not finding him in his suite, she'd resorted to the "hunt and call" search method. "Haaa-rrrryyy!" "AA-CHOO!" Dancer jumped six and nine-tenths inches, letting out a little shriek. "Sorry about that, ND!" Harry's voice apologized out of thin air. "You were looking for me?" "Yeah, Fleurette sent me," the Nothers co-founder replied, her eyes darting nervously around the empty hallway. Harry was nowhere to be seen, even though he sounded very close. "But I still can't find you!" she admitted, flustered. "I know," the magician apologized sheepishly. "I was trying to figure out what went wrong with my teleportation act at the party and I accidentally turned myself invisible." "Oh. Well, that would certainly explain why I can't see you." Dancer grinned, quickly regaining her composure. "You say FB sent you?" the disembodied voice asked. "What's up?" "She wanted to know if you could do something about the rats, the poor frazzled dear. She's been muttering all morning about rats and ants..." She shook her head. "'Poor frazzled dear'?" Harry's voice echoed. "ND, are you feeling all right?" She blushed. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just having an English Major Moment(tm)." "Oh. I thought you graduated." "I did, but old habits die hard. So, can you take care of the rats?" The thin air beside her sneezed again. "I don't know," Harry admitted worriedly. "I'm a little afraid I might accidentally turn them into horses or something." An image from "Cinderella" popped into her mind and Dancer giggled. she thought. "I'm sure Daf wouldn't mind," she told him with a shrug. "Will you do it?" "Well..." "If it helps any, Harry, I know it'll take one of many loads off Fleurette's mind, and that's the best thing I imagine anyone could do for her right now." Dancer's concern for her friend was plain in her voice. Harry sighed in acknowledgement. "Well, I can try, at least." An enormous smile blossomed over NightDancer's face. "Thanks, Harry." "Anything for you and FB," he answered. Still smiling, Dancer blew a kiss into the air and disappeared down the hallway. When she was gone, the unseen Harry let out a long, low sigh. "Rats," he murmured. *************** Several hours later... "I did it!" The door to the Fleurette's office banged open as if hit by a sudden wind. Fleurette and NightDancer both jumped. "What on earth?" The faction leader exclaimed, grabbing the edge of her desk to keep from falling over in her chair. "Phew! It's just Harry," Dancer gasped, placing a hand over her heart as its rate began to return to normal. "Harry? Where? I don't see him?" Fleurette asked, looking around her office. "Are you sure it isn't one of the ghosts?" "Yes, I'm sure. He accidentally turned himself invisible," Dancer explained. "Sorry, FB," Harry's voice apologized. "That's okay," she forgave him. "Now, what did you do that you're so happy about?" "I got rid of the rats like you wanted!" "That's great!" NightDancer exclaimed. "And no horses?" "Horses?" Her friend shot her a suspicious look. He better not have disappeared any of the horses! "He was afraid he'd pull a Cinderella on them," Dancer explained. Harry sneezed. The two women knew him just well enough to exchange a worried glance at that. "Ah...I'm afraid I did," he admitted, embarrassed. "Just one, though. The last one." The taller of the two young women laughed, clapping her hands together. "Good! I was hoping I'd have a Gus Gus out of the lot!" "You already have a horse," Fleurette pointed out. "I know. I wasn't planning to keep it, just name it. We can save Gus Gus for any visiting Ratpackers." She grinned. "Um, well, in the meantime, could you--*achoo!*--help me get it out of the castle?" Harry asked, still sounding a bit sheepish. "All I seem to be able to do is frighten it." Fleurette stood abruptly. "Wait--there's a horse running around INSIDE the Chateau??" Dancer sprang to her feet as well. "I'll go get Daf," she announced cheerfully and sprinted out of the room. Between the four of them it didn't take long to corral the nervous animal, especially since Daf's gift with horses seemed to extend even to those that had recently been rats. Within minutes, he had slipped a lead over the head of the frightened Gus Gus and led the grey mare out to the stables. His announcement that the horse *was* a mare didn't deter Dancer from insisting on the name. Nevertheless, by the time the new steed was in one of the empty stalls, she'd been affectionately dubbed "Gussie." "Well," Fleurette remarked after the ex-rat was safely put away. "Thank you, Harry, for your help." "No problem, FB," the air answered them. "Sorry about that one, though." "Don't apologize--there are plenty of worse things you could have turned her into," she reassured him. "But...I don't suppose you could make yourself visible again, could you? So we can find you if we need anything?" "I was just going to go tackle that," he confessed. "If for no other reason than so that I can shave again." She nodded. True, it must be hard to shave an invisible face. Dancer chuckled, crossing towards them from the stables. "And in the meantime, can we use you to get back at the ghosts for stealing my UNO deck?" END ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 29 15:58:54 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L9bh-0001yv-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 14:23:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0697; Sun, 29 Aug 99 14:20:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8205; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 14:20:57 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 13:22:42 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: After "There are Tours, and Then There are TOURS" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b7511ae1993bd40611d4014e6f5fb333 Title: After "There are Tours, and Then There are TOURS" Date: Monday August 23, 1999 Time: Afternoon by Annette Williams with permission from all used. Annette stood in front of the Jeweled Peach waiting for her fellow Light Cousins. As a confessed Addict, she insisted on attending at least some of the Conversion Day festivities. There were tours and interviews scheduled at the Monastery today but she had managed to find a few hours where they were all free to attend. "Hi," said Arletta, Shelley & Brandi as they approached the Peach. "Oh great, you made it," said an excited Annette, "There's so much going on!" "Yes," Arletta agreed, grinning. "We've just been watching some woman getting dunked in one of those 'hit a target and dump someone in water' kind of booths." "And I tried bobbing for peaches," Brandi added sheepishly. "Now you know that with my bad back I can't participate in any of the physical events," explained Shelley, indicating her cane. "Me either," added Arletta whose back wasn't quite as bad as Shelley's but who nevertheless qualified for a handicapped license plate too. "No prob, we'll just observe," said Annette, "Come on, there's a chariot race starting soon. Let's get a good spot." From - Sun Aug 29 15:58:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LARa-0003Vj-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:16:47 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9722; Sun, 29 Aug 99 15:14:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0859; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:14:28 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:16:23 EDT Reply-To: Martin Fries Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Martin Fries Subject: WAR: DP: Finishing a Delivery To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c8fe8cad2e0dd2993fba7a96dbd930fa DP mansion - very late Sunday afternoon. . . "You're saying that this sword's a FAKE." Martin yells into the phone at his friend. "No the sword isn't fake, well it is a sword, just a replica of the one I was supposed to get. Honest mistake." "Tell me one reason why I shouldn't find you and take this sword and (next few words are unintelligable.) "I'll let you keep the sword. Weren't you going up somewhere near there anyways." "Yeah, but still..." "Thanks ol' buddy. I won't forget your help." "I won't forget it either." Martin's friend hangs up. He walks over to the couch and sits down heavily. He notices that the mansion is suspiciously uncrowded and quickly checks the date on his watch. "Guess the War's winding down and I should be getting on my way." Martin quickly packs everything up and sets it on the couch. He takes the sword and leaves it hanging neatly in the ballroom for the next War, or maybe just for a visit. He gets into the truck and drives off into the sunset. After a block, he turns south onto a mainroad and starts the long drive home. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 29 15:58:56 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LAax-0003m7-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:26:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0985; Sun, 29 Aug 99 15:20:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1531; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:20:47 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:24:34 +0300 Reply-To: dce@dlc.fi Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: dce Subject: WAR: Ravenettes: After the War To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 286fbe76dc63838b97e53c487a8697e0 WAR: Ravenettes: After the War by Claudia Time: After the war Place: The Raven Tomosada is my creation and I've got his permission to abuse him :) The Raven was quiet for a change. The war was over and most of the Raven/ettes had left for home already. As for the vampires... Well, all of them were again true creatures of the night, and more than pleased about it, too. It hadn't actually taken that first flash of a fang for Claudia to realize what had happened. She hadn't been absolutely certain before that, of course, but she'd suspected as much. As much of an edge as the vampires had retained even in their shortly found mortality now that they were back to normal, as it were, they seemed to have regained that unmistakable polished, sleek and... hungry look they usually had to themselves. And as it was with vampires, they slept during day time which was what most of them were busy doing right that moment. Most, but evidently not all, Claudia noted as Tomosada walked towards her. "Isn't it past your bedtime, Tom?" she asked, smiling slightly at the Japanese vampire. Tomosada gave her a dry half grin in return. "Not really. I'm having a little trouble adjusting back to my normal rhythm, actually." "Ah, got used to being a day-person, did you? Well, I wouldn't worry about that, I'm sure you'll be sleeping away the days again in no time." There was a glint in Tomosada's dark eyes but he didn't take her obvious bait. Instead, he steered the conversation to safer routes. "Are you going to visit your god-mother today?" "Yeah. I've been in Toronto for two weeks already and I haven't even called her, so I think it's about high time..." Pausing, Claudia took a quick glance at her wristwatch. "But I guess I should wait until a bit more decent hour before I'll go knocking on her door." "Care for company while you wait, Claudia?" It was the way he always said her name. She was used to the Finnish pronunciation and after the past two weeks she was pretty well used to the way Canadians pronounced it, as well. But when Tomosada said her name it sounded like a combination of the two, even if he normally did speak English with a perfectly Canadian accent, and she couldn't help grinning faintly at him. But all she said was: "Sure, why not." Tomosada gave her a curious look but didn't ask what had once again provoked her sudden bout of mirth. They walked over to the bar where Tomosada helped himself to the Raven's specialty. As he took a generous swig from his glass Claudia noted that he still looked a bit tanned for a vampire, not that it would last for too long. As Tomosada finished off his late morning snack Claudia thought how odd it actually was that they seemed to have become friends since the Conversion Day. By his own admission he didn't usually socialize with mortals and yet he'd spent quite a lot of his time with her lately. And quite voluntarily, too. "Maybe it's because he got to experience mortality firsthand again", Claudia thought to herself. "Maybe we don't seem so foreign to him anymore, maybe he was reminded that we're not merely dinner..." At that thought she felt a tiny shiver run through her and she was suddenly glad to witness his little bottle feeding session just then. But her silent musings came to an end as Tomosada spoke up again. "So, are you going to be around for much longer, now that the war is over?" Claudia shrugged a little. "I took four weeks off from work. I guess I'll be staying in Toronto for another week or so. And I heard that at least Alex will be staying for a while, as well. Who knows, maybe some of the others will, too." "So you'll all be staying here, at the Raven, then?" "I don't know about the others for sure but I will, at least. I mean, Janette's been really great about it. She said that I could stay here until I have to go back home. Why? Eager to see us all gone, already?" Claudia finished with an amused grin. "No. Just wondering..." Tomosada let the rest of his sentence hang in the air. They were both quiet for a moment and then Claudia said, smiling a little wistfully, "I can't believe how fast the past two weeks have gone... But it was fun." As she saw the look Tomosada gave her she continued her statement. "Well, for the most part, at least." "I suppose it had its moments", Tomosada allowed. "Oh, come on, Tom." Claudia's eyebrows rose at his not so enthusiastic response. "You enjoyed the Conversion Day party, admit it." "I guess it wasn't as bad as it could've been", Tomosada said keeping his features carefully neutral but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed him. "No, it wasn't bad at all." Claudia gave him a wide smile. "And you were having a blast at Chris and Heather's Wedding Ceilidh." "I probably wouldn't use a word 'blast' myself, but..." "But nothing. You had a great time and we both know it." The truth was they *had* had a blast at the party. The bride had been beautiful, the groom handsome and they'd both looked very, very happy together. And just like the rest of the guests, Claudia and Tomosada had partied well into the morning. In fact, they'd found themselves faced with a bit of a problem as they'd been ready to leave since the sun had already risen. Fortunately, they'd found a friendly Addict, whose car had a big enough trunk space for Tomosada, who'd given them a ride back to the Raven. "All right, the party was okay but I wasn't too thrilled about the trunk trip back here", Tom gave in finally. "No, I suppose you wouldn't have been. Guess it just goes to show that mortality has its benefits." Claudia grinned. "Few and far between", Tomosada mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for Claudia to hear him. She merely gave him an amused look from the corner of her eye but said nothing. Then, glancing at her wristwatch again, she slid down from her seat. "Well, I think Anu should be up and about by now, so..." "Right. Well, you have a good time with your god-mother", Tomosada said. "Thanks, I will." Claudia checked that she had her purse and money with her and headed towards the front door. But she'd taken only two steps when Tomosada's voice stopped her. "Hey, Claudia..." He waited until she turned to face him. "If you'd like to try and be a night-person for a while -- I mean, while you'll be staying in Toronto, I could show you around to places tourists won't usually get to see." Claudia regarded him for a moment before a slow smile spread on her face. "I'd like that. Thanks, Tom." ***** The last week truly seemed to fly by and before she knew it Claudia was heading back home again. Tomosada had been as good as his word and he'd taken her to a truly unique sightseeing tour around Toronto. Night time obviously *was* the right time, since she'd had a marvelous time. Sighing, Claudia adjusted her blanket a little and tried to find a comfortable position on her seat. The plane was still at least five hours away from Helsinki so she might as well try to take a little nap. Closing her eyes she relaxed and continued with her reminiscing. The war had been fun and she couldn't wait until the next one, couldn't wait to see all the familiar faces again. She'd just left and she missed them all already. Luckily, such little things as phones and email were around so they wouldn't have to be totally incommunicado until they'd all meet again. Maybe the old saying 'All good things must come to an end' wasn't quite as accurate as she'd always thought.... The End - For Now -- Claude *NA**NatPacker**N&NPacker**HB* http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/index.html From - Sun Aug 29 15:58:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LB0u-0004Rm-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:53:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1189; Sun, 29 Aug 99 15:51:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4083; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:51:00 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:52:42 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole (07/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 61beaca35fb970f3b13e12b28d2163c9 WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole (07/?) by Patt Elmore When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Bombs away!" Egrus Toga rolled along the rim of the action, cheering and chirping as he went. "Where?" Somehow McLisa misunderstood the mechanical language and assumed *bombs* were Zombie Beachcombers. She grabbed up the squealing bot and began shaking his contents into her empty glass. Patt, still somehow untouched and basically on the outside of the fighting, felt a sudden twinge of guilt. "Errrr, guys. Do you really want to be fighting like this? You're all gonna wake up in the morning, stiff and sore. How about we call it a day, and head on home, huhh?" RevSam, hearing the cry of another who thought like a cleric, popped her head out from under a table and shouted her agreement. Then, Echo of the Vaqueras bolted by, and RevSam accidentally stuck out her leg and tripped her. Echo went sprawling, tumbling into Nite, who tumbled into Luke, the blonde ex-vampire construction hunk. Luke did a very attractive pirouette, but lost his balance anyway and fell to the floor, skidding several feet due to momentum. In his travels, he slid under the skirt of a very surprised Celeste. "You're not Jennifer!" Luke's cries were muffled by the folds of cloth now covering his face. "I want my Jennifer." Jules reached out and patted the Cousine's shoulder in a reassuring manner. "Almost the same thing happened to me at the pillow fight," the soon to be ex-HP commiserated with the Cousin. "Only in my case, it was a rat." "RAT!!!" Several addicts found solace on nearby table tops. "Please," LaCroix snarled at his shivering troops. "I had pink glowing rats on my head last year. Get off those tables and fight like an army, not a bunch of women." "But, we are a bunch of women," Caren pointed out. LaCroix stared at the togaed females. They stared back, then began to wave and smile. The General slapped his hands to his face, rubbed his eyes, then looked again at the women. They continued to wave and smile. One even fainted. LaCroix patted his pocket for the *special* bottle, then returned his attention to the brawl. Near the back of the room, Jesse and Arymede, the Sherwood Nunksister, debated (and Jesse is awfully good at debate, ya know) the pros and cons of hand-to-hand versus long distance weaponry combat. "I still prefer the *art* of fencing," Jesse thrust her epee into the crowd, and speared a trying-to-rise Cliff. The Vaquero yelped and ran from the source of his pain. "But, as you can see, hand to hand doesn't allow for spatial difficulties." Ary fitted an arrow into her bow and took careful aim at the fleeing Cliff. She let loose the shaft and watched it course toward its mark. It missed. For, at the moment it raced toward it mark, McLisa lifted her glass, satisfied that she'd drained the poor misused bot. The arrow struck McLisa's goblet, shattering the glass. "Uh, oh." Ary's face drew up in an expression of worry and angst. "Do you think she'll *no-post* me for that?" "Only if she figures out that you did it," Jesse said, grabbing the other addict and pulling her down. Devoid of drink, McLisa looked around the room, seeking a target. She noticed Erik, a former resident of CERK at war time, lounging at the end of the bar. "Why aren't you in on this?" McLisa demanded. Erik offered her a winning half-masked smile. "I am. I just pick my battles is all. Right now I'm doing quite well as goalie." "What do you mean?" McLisa said. "This." Supaige was suddenly tossed from the crowd, landing with a thump at Erik's feet. The Nunkamale lifted the blonde, pointed her in the direction of the fight, and gave her a little push to get her going. Supaige jumped back in and began swinging anew. "Well, I need a drink," McLisa reminded herself. "See ya later." She trundled off to the bar. "Guys!" Patt's plaintive voice sounded small among the brouhaha. "Why don't we stop this and all play nice? This is supposed to be fu . . ." Her speech came to a sudden end, however, as she spied Pectin chatting nervously with the GHP at the bar. Lights blinked and came on. "Pectin works for Laurie." Patt stared at the obscene couple. "Bingo!" Vachon shouted from the table he had taken, flanked by Melissa and Teresita. "About time you figured that out." "Pectin is the GHP's mole." Red flared in Patt's head. "Allow me." LaCroix slipped up behind the mature addict and inserted something into her hand. "Not your usual brand, I know, but I think you'll like it." Patt looked down at the green beer bottle she now held tightly. She looked back at Pectin and Laurie. She cried out and plunged forward for the attack. Laurie saw the Third Cousin's charge and nimbly moved out of the way, even through it meant giving up storyline focus. Pectin, however, was not so lucky. He sustained a minor concussion and several contusions, mostly concentrated in his groin area. "Ouch, that must have hurt," Vachon commented, wincing as he watched the mayhem. "But, you know what they say about a woman scorned . . ." The fighting stopped again, and everyone stared at the Spaniard. Vachon blinked. "What? What did I say?" The fighting resumed, with a few choice articles hoisted in Vachon's direction. A table leg smacked Melissa in the jaw, knocking her out of her seat. Felicia quickly moved into position at Vachon's flank, high-fiving with her VaqTwin. "Tell me again . . . why are we here?" Cindy looked at Kathy. The other FoD shrugged in reply. "We were invited to a bar fight. So, we came." "But, at least when we invited *them* to the scuba event, we put them in the story," Cindy complained, plopping her elbows down hard on the table. "We're just sitting here, being under utilized." "So, do you want to be nursing bruises in the morning?" Kathy queried. "Well, who better to do so?" Cindy pointed out. "At least at the deli, we have steaks to go on our eyes." "Okay, then. Let's rock and roll." Kathy jumped up, posing in boxer stance. "Who do you want to hit first?" "I don't care," Cindy replied, also jumping to her feet. "I just want in on the action." As the words left the FoD's mouth, Luke happened to pass by. Caught up in the emotions of war, Kathy popped the blonde ex-vamp in the nose. Tears sprang to Luke's eyes as he held his bleeding nose. "That hurt." He looked around, his expression one of sustained loss. "JENNIFER!" he cried. "Is that everyone mentioned at least once?" Patt consulted her list, with LaCroix looking over her shoulder. "You've neglected a segment featuring Allie and Bram," the General pointed out. "Would you like to do the honors?" Patt beamed up at LaCroix. "Absolutely," he beamed back. He reached into the skirmish and plucked the two Addicts out. Allie and Bram regarded LaCroix with alternate looks of rage and lust. "You, I need to confront those two seated Vaqueras," LaCroix advised Allie, indicating toward Felicia and Teresita. He loosened his hold on Allie, who headed immediately for Vachon's table. "And, you," LaCroix said, turning Bram so that she faced the fallen Spark. "I need a newt." Bram clapped her hands happily and sighed. "Finally." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 07/? patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 29 15:58:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LB33-0001wf-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:55:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0006; Sun, 29 Aug 99 15:52:45 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4199; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:52:45 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:54:38 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole (08/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9b2d5c2637bd5db9ccd63bb8b8b1aadb WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole (08/?) by Patt Elmore, with snip from Cousin Erik and major input from the GHP When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cousin Erik continued to prowl around the outskirts of the brawl -- not out of any sense of cowardice, but mainly because he noticed the majority of the participants on all sides were female, and (damn his father for teaching him to be a gentleman!) he wouldn't trounce in and beat up a woman. So he settled for making sure that his compatriots did. Whenever he noticed a stray fighter making her way out of the tangle of bodies, he'd quite calmly step in front of her. If she swung at him, so much the better, as he would catch her hand and use the impetus of the swing to whirl her around and toss her right back into the fray. Arymede notched another arrow and took aim at a picture on the wall. She skillfully struck her mark, causing the decoration to fall and strike a passing Sapo. The chubby construction worker yowled, and kept trotting. "He's fun to fire on," Ary decided aloud. With a quick glance for any sign of an irked McLisa, Ary set off in pursuit of additional male derrieres to target. Glennis and Dee, their sense of loyalty kicked into high gear, gave chase to Kriel, intent on solving Christy's plight. They were diverted, however, when LaCroix stepped into their path. Both women proceeded to go into pre-meltdown stage. "What are your battle plans?" LaCroix demanded of the women. "You can't just go charging the enemy without a set course of action. What is your strategy?" Glennis and Dee just stared up at the General, meltdown progressing nicely. LaCroix shook his head. "No wonder they aren't playing with the Cousins. They flunked the solid matter physical." He looked over, caught sight of Cousine Celeste by the jukebox and shouted. "Play Wagner! These warriors need incentive." Celeste nodded and dropped additional coins into the machine. Soon, Wagner's "Flight of the Valkyries" dominated the listening area. The Vaqs all stopped fighting and saluted the music. Those engaged in the fray received various cuts and scrapes from their battling partners for stopping and recognizing the brief interlude. "I refuse to have my position in this delegated to observer," Celeste decided aloud, to no one near enough to hear. "I have much to offer in the way of combatant skills, which I intend to demonstrate." Lifting her skirts, she waded in. McLisa, still staring at her broken goblet, stood there, dumbstruck. She'd just about had enough of this fight-- especially if it impeded her drinking pursuits. She finally tossed the shattered stemware away, and set out to find that damned blender again. "Give her another right, Bons!" Erik cried from the end of the bar. From his peripheral vision, the Alabama Addict caught sight of a crazed-eyed Vaquera approaching the Scribe from behind. "Look out--incoming Slacker stuffing." Bons whirled and poked two fingers forward, catching Echo in the eyes. The less than happy assailant shrieked, causing the petite redhead to make a hasty retreat. Erik swung his eyes to the left, noting KC caught in a rather interesting predicament. The Kissing Cousin was fending off an attack from two sides by swinging her trusty, and rather large, Snixco catalog. One rather intense Vaquera suddenly remembered that scissors beat paper, and produced a pair of shears from her leather boot. "Illegal weapon!" Erik cried. He looked around, spied a large paperweight near the cash register and grabbed the object. Hefting it quickly, Erik shouted to the blonde Arkansas student. "Duck!" KC looked upward, startled. "Where?!!" But Eric had no time to discuss the matter further. Giving the glass orb a well-aimed toss, Eric watched in satisfaction as the weight found its mark. It struck Melissa in the back of the head and Eric whooped, "Rock breaks scissors!" Yet, for every action, there is a reaction. The now dazed Vaquera lost her footing and fell forward, effectively covering the tiny KC. Seeing their comrade going down, Cliff, Rae and Tracy Sue ran to aid their friend, tripped over each other and joined the heap on top of the addict. From beneath the mass of black leather and motorcycle stickers, nothing stirred. Yet, if one listened carefully, you could identify KC's final resting place from the plethora of one-liners which emitted from the bar room floor, most of them concerning the Grand High Poobah. Although she enjoyed a good battle as well as the next person, Tiff bawled, grabbing up an empty green bottle from one of many at a certain back booth. She focused in on LaCroix's tall figure and advanced. "And there's no way Patt can stop me!!" The battle suddenly halted, with all eyes focused on the evil Addict. Tiff stopped and stared back at them. "What?!!" Everyone in the room lifted a green beer bottle, shaking the object at the film maker. "Patt's got dibs!" they shouted. "Oh, findell," Tiff said finally, tossing her glass weapon back into a booth. "It wasn't gonna be *that* much of a deal anyway. Just a little *oppsie.* Don't see why everyone wants to get so bent out of shape." Grumbling she changed course and headed into another section of the battle. The fighting resumed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 08/? patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 29 15:58:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LB3a-0004Wu-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:56:03 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1200; Sun, 29 Aug 99 15:53:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4265; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:53:47 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:56:43 -0700 Reply-To: "Shana N." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Shana N." Subject: WAR: DP: The Undercaffinated Poem To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 2d7b6c18fd56b053171c4b1997317810 ******************* WAR: DP: "The Undercaffinated Poem" Place: DP Mansion, sorta Time: sometime during 8/28 by: Shana Nolan ******************* "Hey, did you know we're out of your Pepsi?" "Oh, the horror! It cannot be!!" "Sheesh, there's always coffee... " "But I'm a child of advertising! I only have a few more collector cans left!! Maybe I'll run over to the store after I'm done typing this." "Typing what?" "The product of an overactive imagination, a lack of sleep, the beginning of classes, the need for less than 100 posts a day, the love of peace, the urge for the Perfect Bean, followed closely by Mountain Dew, a want for Godiva chocolate, a-- " "Sorry I asked. So, are you staying in TO again?" "Well, I finally got the custard out of the silk duvet, the rose bushes do need trimming and Fluffy needs to be fed his normal diet, so yeah, once more the DP Angel stays behind at the mansion with bleeding walls." "Cool." * * * All around in Mary's room The peeps were tossed and gone Their sugary bodies donated to science And the decaf coffee went along. Somewhere out on front lawn Teletubby fuzz filled the grass A little child screamed in horror And Mrs Hitchcock kicked some DP (oops, PG-13 war). Demon Burp played his game Exchanged his cloak and hat Jumping to yet unto another guise Trying next for "Bill the Cat." (note: Bill the cat is from Berkeley Breathed's "Bloom County") Fluffy the raven got back his fangs Even though birds have beaks Once more hating sun and seed Rats once more his tasty treats. All too late the card came back A belated RSVP, not too cool Lost the directions and potato salad both For Blackwood Arms and its pool. Errant thought crossed the writer's mind Like IRC with impending lag Knowing that she'd not be tortured For that horrid dark pink shag. And of Garth Brooks and henna The mineral oil was brought forth and slathered NIN fed to the "corrupted" Thug Watered down honey and feathers justly gathered. To Vee-bay do we actually come Of Uncle and a position of repose Many a prob did plague the auction And it wasn't about the roman's lack of "clothes." Dr. Natenstien and pink leiderhosen Brought on by Thugs playing a polka Whammied Cousins and their jail time Maybe next year we'll filk Elrod or Tolkien. And of Drusilla and Gregor Of the Nagus, Garak and Ducat Of the element pieces and a cube Rather like the search for the manuscript of Du Lac. The Thugs all gathered in the lounge Their enjoyments tried and true Gathered before a TV and VCR For the 29,876,903 showing of "Clue." And, ah, yes some had to go home Lives bound as they are to RL A return to peace and regular FK fic Back to CA, NY, and etc. al. But to all other factions was distributed >From the sunny and perky Perk Anne Her delectable and delish chocolate/java brownies An offering to her fellow fans. Feeling slightly guilty does this one feel Fell all behind and lost all heart Meant not to slight nor do no harm Made it not to Circle nor did her promised part. The author sits here at her computer As always typing away the night The Muse begging for his attention A willing servant to her forever Knight. And to the end we do come Of this short and trite little song Watching the deadline slowly creep up Chanting "Why can't we all get along?" ******************* Shana, dpangel@thegrid.net the Darth Perk Angel, DP 2IC Visi sunt oculis insipientium mori, illi autem sunt in pace. From - Sun Aug 29 16:04:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LB65-00032J-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:58:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0017; Sun, 29 Aug 99 15:56:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4372; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:56:23 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:57:45 EDT Reply-To: KnightGal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Cousin Jules Subject: WAR:NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole (09/?) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5452a20189d7758b3674c30289b5cc0f WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole (09/?) by Patt Elmore, with snip by Cousin Erik When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LaCroix's smile was almost worth the pain. Patt gave Pectin one more swift kick, then looked in the Poobah's direction. The Third Cousin hefted the Heineken, and moved towards the bar stool, where Laurie had resumed her perch, still unscathed by the combat around her.. "Not a good idea," Laurie shouted, clambering atop the bar. "I'm helping you write this epic, remember. Beta extraordinaire, since Bons had to drop out." "Not my fault," Bons cried from above. Everyone lifted their eyes ceiling-ward and noted the petite Scribe, suspended from a rather seedy looking fluorescent light fixture. "You really do display a blatant degree of height envy," LaCroix said dryly, his head following the Scribe's body swing. "Come down here at once," Jules snapped at Bons. "You're the head of this organization now, and it's high time you acted like it." "Wahhhhhh!' Bons cried, loosening her grip and allowing herself to fall downward. She had hoped Nunkies would move in and catch her, but it was Vachon who did the honors. The Spaniard looked down at the Scribe in his arms and smiled winningly. "I like women in power--very sexy." Bonnie looked up into Vachon's dark eyes. "How much megabytes do you take up, anyway?" Then she looked over to where LaCroix and Jules stood, arms crossed and toes tapping in disapproval. "Cute couple," Vachon noted. "Look here, Slacker," Bons said, her eyes pleading. "It's not my first choice, but it may be my safest. Which way to the nearest Well-O-Doom?" "Hmmmm," Felicia commented, watching as Vachon caught the falling Bonnie. "I wonder what that's all about?" "Obviously the writing of an Addict," Teresita replied, her eyes never leaving the couple. "If we were in control of this segment, he'd have just dropped the red-haired witch." "I find it extremely annoying." Felicia took another sip from her drink, but declined to move from her seated position. "As do I, VaqTwin," Teresita agreed. She leaned back further in her chair, eyes narrowed, as Vachon carried Bonnie out of the fighting area. The women were still engaged in observing the odd pairing when Rae ran by, holding Allie the Addict's head under her arm. "Are you two going to just sit there while that Bons person waltzes off with our Vachon?!" Rae cried indignantly. Teresita and Felicia looked at each other, shrugged and then faced Rae again. "What do you expect? We're slackers." "You're lazy, is what you are!" Rae shouted, popping Allie's head several times for effect. "I can't believe that Tracy Sue puts you in charge when she's gone." She looked accusingly at the VacAdj. "Hey," Felicia didn't stir, except for a twitch of her left eye lid. "I'm not the one who tripped Vachon with a stupid Nunkies ornament, am I? I'm not the one who held up the whole bar fight by not posting, am I? Hmmmm?" Rae, face red, released her hold on Allie, who, intelligently, scampered away. "That is that Elmore person's fault. She's who I want to kill, and she's who I'm gonna get." The Vaquera turned and stared into the mass of tussling bodies again, and, with a shout, jumped back in. "You have to admit, she has gusto," Teresita noted. "Yep, she sure does. And, she swings a mean booted foot," Felicia nodded. "You talking about our own dear Rae?" Tracy Sue came up behind the Vaq table and pulled up a chair to join the other women. Felicia and Teresita both held thumbs up to acknowledge their VaqMommy's inquiry. Tracy Sue grinned. "She's in there swinging for the glory of Vachon and doing us proud." Jules, now devoid of LaCroix, advanced on the reclined Vaqueras. "I can't believe you're just sitting here . . . letting your poor faction members take the brunt of the punishment without helping them. And, letting Bonnie walk away with Vachon. And, propping your feet up on tables in public places." The HP clicked her tongue disapprovingly at Tracy Sue's posture. "You're all just a bunch of jack-booted thugs." The three leather-clad women exchanged glances, looked down at their motorcycle boots and then back at the fuming High Priestess resignee. "So?" they chorused. "Hopeless," Jules said, throwing her hands up and walking away. "You'd better send all the Shrine furniture out of cleaning," Laurie called a little friendly advice to the maybe-HP. "You know they had those boots all over your divans and stuff." Jules looked to where the GHP was still crouched atop the bar. "Shouldn't you be looking for a better place to hide? I thought Patt was intent on doing you in?" "She was," Laurie nodded. "But she got kind of side-tracked. Bummer, huh?" The GHP eyed the HP evilly. "Hey, want to come over for a slide show? I've got some great fashion photos." Laurie leaned back, grinning at the melee unfolding in front of her. Thanks to her excellent beta-ing skills, she had so far remained untouched. Across the floor, Kriel was again set on stomping the mature Addict. With Christy slung potato-sack-like over his shoulder, the very large, ex-vampire foreman was growling and moving in on the Third Cousin. His path took him close by Erik, who was ensconced safely behind a floor to ceiling beam support. Luckily for Eric, Kriel did not observe him at first. Unfortunately, Christy did. "Hey, hero!!" the Florida addict shouted. "Remember that time you popped out of the tunnels to rescue me? How about a repeat? Now's the time." As emphasis of her plight, she pounded on Kriel's back. "Ummm, that feels good, Love Muffin," the foreman smiled at the tickling sensation. "As soon as I rip that liaison apart, we'll have more time to play." Despite briefly wondering if Kriel got his dialog from KC's bag of monikers, Christy ran her hands across Kriel's massive shoulders, then called back to Erik. "Scratch the deliverance again, Cousin Erik. I think I can handle it after all." Unfortunately, Erik's save-the-fair-damsel-in-distress mechanism had been activated. He moved stealthily toward the ex-vampire foreman, putting himself in imminent danger. "Hey, vamp-ape! Why don't you pick on somebody your own size?" Kriel gave the worrisome Nunkamale a shriveling stare. "Show me someone who is and I will," the construction man retorted. "Okay . . ." Erik straightened himself to full height. "How about same gender?" "That's acceptable." Kriel removed Christy from his shoulder and carefully sat his Love Bunny on a tall bar stool. He chucked the woman under the chin, promised to be right back, then looked around the room for his co-horts. Sapo and Luke came running, joining Kriel on each side. "Okay, pretty-boy addict!" Kriel bellowed at Erik. "I owe you from before!" Erik tried to maintain his dignity (frail though it was). "All right -- you and me! Tell your little cheerleaders to back off! Surely a big bad vampy like you doesn't need any help!" Erik smirked. "Oh, yeah, I forgot... you got your fangs clipped, didn't ya?" Kriel roared his fury and rushed Erik. The other two construction workers with the foreman took up flanking positions, ready to keep Erik from getting away until they were done with him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 09/? patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 29 17:17:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LBUc-00002k-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 16:23:59 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3250; Sun, 29 Aug 99 16:21:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5466; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 16:21:21 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 13:23:15 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs/Nothers--The Fine Art of Slacking To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d1bcbde0f33f214c79911db06adcbdde 27 Aug 1999 The Loft/Juan's Apt. Toronto, ON 2 pm Disclaimer: The Nothers used with their gracious permission. Eowyn and the Loft used briefly with permission. I don't own 'Murder in a Small Town'. Gene Wilder wrote and directed it, and I imagine that it is his property. No infrigement is intended. The Fine Art of Slacking By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia The Nothers gathered around the sofa and began to mingle with the already encamped Vaqs. Eowyn returned to the room and took in the sight. These people were too comfortable, and there were guest due to arrive. "Okay, guys, I'm sorry, but we've got plans and they don't include you." There was a grumble, but Tracy Sue and Fleurette rose. "Come on, guys, we know when to leave. Don't want to be rude guests," Tracy Sue said. She and the Nothers' leader began urging their faction memebers towards the door. "Oh, and maybe *all* of you could use the stairs this time, huh," Eowyn called out. There were more grumbles, but the herd of Vaqs and the Nothers started down the stairs. "Well," Nother Kat said, "we could go back to the Chateau." "Yeah, but I was looking forward to being *out*, ya know," Night Dancer answered. "Hmmm, well, there's the Church. Don't you guys have a television?" "Weeeell, I have one but. . .," Vachon started. "But it's not a big screen," Echo wailed. The group had reached the street and began walking, still trying to come up with a soloution. Juan and the Vaq Adj brought up the rear. They were discussing some historic trial, something to do with Italian immigrants accused of murder. Juan was explaining the circumstantial evidence that was used, when inspiration hit Felicia. "Wait! You're an attorney," she exclaimed. He nodded. "Well there's a monumental conclusion," he kidded. She rolled her eyes. "No, no, I mean, you must have resouces, ya know cash? Surely you've always wanted a Big Screen, huh?" The rest of the group stopped upon hearing this exchange and turned. There were several 'yeahs' and 'she's rights' and one 'why didn't I think of that?'. Juan looked at the group and sighed, knowing defeat when he saw it. "Okay, okay. Where does one purchase such an item?" Tracy Sue, Fleurette, Scott, and Echo grabbed Juan. "I know just the place," the sang. Vachon looked at the rest of the assembly and smiled. ********************************************************************** Several hours later, the Vaq-Nothers combo was ensconced in the plush surroundings that furnished the Inca's apartment. The television took up nearly a whole wall, and there wasn't a bad seat in the house. "I can't believe you live here," Vachon said. "See what having a real job can do," Juan teased. "Yeah, Javier, emphasis on the *real*!" Rae giggled and slung an arm around him. "It's okay, Jav, we're just picking on you." "We can't help it," Felicia added. "Yes. He makes such an easy target," Juan finished. With that, the whole room burst out laughing, and Vachon pretended to sulk. "Get over it, Javier. Who has the movie," Teresita asked. "Right here," Fleurette tossed the tape over. "I've not seen this one," Kat said, "is it scary" "No," said a disappointed Felicia. "It's good, though." She turned to Rae. "Well acted, for the m-m-m-ost p-p-p-art." The two cracked up laughing. "Okay. Start it up." The credits rolled, and the group watched eagerly. Shortly, there was a scene in which a hid in a closet waiting for his victim. Upon seeing her, he crept silently to her. He then spoke, with an exaggerated stutter. Eventually the camera pulled back to reveal that the two were actors at a rehearsal. "Hey," Fleurette said, "that guy looks familiar." "And he sounds familiar. I've heard that speech pattern before," Kat added. "Wasn't he at the Pitted Peach? One of the bartenders, right," asked Night Dancer. Felicia and Rae put on innocent looks. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 29 17:17:57 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LBwM-0005zp-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 16:52:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3337; Sun, 29 Aug 99 16:50:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6610; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 16:50:24 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 16:54:21 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack - Reconciliation To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 06da6efcb73d0837338fc1ac8266dc24 WAR: N&NPack - Reconciliation By: Susan B. & N&NPack Time: Sunday Aug.29 Afternoon Place: N&NPack HQ - - - - Susan, Soul, and Mysterie, were playing with Susan's dog, Nikki, when Tammy finally arrived. The other dark N&Ners had tried to comfort them, but everyone was so enraged by Tammy's seeming betrayal that their efforts had been useless. "How could she think having my dog sent here would set things right?" Susan wondered aloud. "I thought Nikki might cheer you up," Tammy said as she cautiously approached the group of glum faced N&Ners. "You shouldn't have done it, Tammy," Soulseeker scolded. "You shouldn't have tricked us into giving the elements back. Nick's future is only going to be full of more guilt and depression. Every time a vampire victim shows up, he's going to think it's his fault. He's directly responsible for recreating all these vampires, including himself. We could have withheld the elements and saved him from deciding the outcome of this lose/lose situation." "The other vampires had chosen to become vampires," Tammy declared. "Nick had no right to take that away from them." "Serena didn't *choose*!" Susan spat, "Alexandria didn't *choose*! They didn't all have that choice the first time around. Lacroix himself said, We choose for them!'.... and now..." "It was Nick's decision to make," Tammy said. "Why is *his* decision more important than ours!" Kevin shouted. He glanced around at all the sad faces in the room. "It's neither more nor less important," Tammy said, "but it's further removed from the epicentre." "It's a decision we could have made for him!" Carrie declared. "And thus saved him from a lot of future misery. And if he can't live with it..." Sitting quietly in the corner, Michelle and Mary started to sob. "Don't even talk about that," Mary whimpered, "and what then of Natalie?" This only brought more sobs from those surrounding them. "I'm surprised that's not what he did," Boomer flatly remarked, "end it." "And that would have been *his* decision too," Susan stated coldly. "But no doubt, he would have been severely chastized for even thinking it -- the old you can do anything you want with *your* life except end it because that's contrary to *my* philosophy' thing." Tammy shook her head and spoke softly. "If any of you had withheld the elements and made the decision for him, you would have been no different than Lacroix. You would have been acting just like Lacroix did when he smashed the Mayan mug into a thousand pieces, when he tossed the Abarat into the fire." "I suppose that should have been the warning sign," Michelle suggested. "We should have known that if Galen's cube was a real solution, Lacroix would have already destroyed it." The crowd of Nick&Natpackers silently contemplated Tammy's remarks. She was right, they all knew. They wouldn't have been any different than Lacroix. Chana soon broke the silence, "I think we could all use some cheering up," she said, "but I'm not quite ready for any FK episodes." Tammy, Laila, Angela, Marci and Wendy were unusually quick to react. "We have just the thing!" they shouted together. "Romantic movies!" Marci shouted. "Princess Bride! Ladyhawke! Romancing the Stone!" She ran off to set up the VCR. "And chocolate too!" Wendy added, as she dashed off towards the Kitchen. "But first," Laila announced. "I want to recite to you what was said to me by Galen's spirit." Laila repeated the words that she had heard -- that Nick must not give in to despair and that there is one who will aid and support him (at which point everyone gasped, "Natalie!"), and that he will eventually overcome his burden. The mood in the theatre was still sombre, but was most definitely improving. - - - Susan B. freestyle@idirect.com "That which you know, you ignore because it is inconvenient. That which you do not know, you invent." (Delenn, B5, TDoFS) From - Sun Aug 29 17:17:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LCFc-0001W0-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 17:12:32 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1454; Sun, 29 Aug 99 17:09:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8560; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 17:09:31 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 14:11:23 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR: Nothers/Vaqs: Better Late than Never 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ae2165a31bede20730edfd77d8a3ef85 Title: Better Late Than Never 01/01 written by: Fleurette B , Liz the Lucky Place: On the way t Nick's Loft, at the Loft Time: Friday, Noon-ish (slightly before, slightly after) after Vaqs "Cube of Unlife" Disclaimers: All Nothers (Me, Dancer, Kat, Liz, Jeanne & Elladara) used by permission. Eowyn of the Knighties used because this is a delivery post, and the Knightie leaders said she'd be there. The Vaqs... well, there were there when we arrived. ****************** {Chateau des Autres, 11:30 am} "Where is NightDancer???" Fleurette exclaimed, a scowl forming on her face. Se'd personally gone up to Dancer's suite and woke her up at 8 am. At the time, Jewels had rolled over, sat up, and blinked at her several times. Fleurette'd informed her of the need to get up and dressed, as they had to meet the Vaquera/os at the Church by 11. To which, NightDancer yawned, said "okay," in aslightly mumbled voice, and added, "Can youleave so I can get dressed?" And here it was, three and a half hours later, and she still wasn't ready to go. The phone rang suddenly, interrupting the silence. Fleurette answered it. Hanging up, she turned back to her faction. "That was Felicia," she said, sounding *very* angry. "The plans have changed. We're gonna have to meet them at the Loft, now." She paused. "*after* I go kill Julie." Her voice was grim and very serious. As she stepped towards the stairway, Liz and Kat caught her up in their arms. "Where you headed like that?" Kat asked. "I told you, I'm gonna kill her! You deaf?" Fleurette replied. She'd never spoken badly to Kat before in all the time they'd known each other. That showed how angry she was. or, maybe she was just tired of the War and wanted it over. "You can't kill Dancer," Liz said patiently. "No one dies, no one ever dies, remmeber? Why don't you send Mario after her? That should work." "Mario's not here!" Fleurette exclaimed. "Besides, he bugs me." "Yes, he is," Kat contradicted her. "He hasn't left yet." About that time, NightDancer came running down the stairs, shouting "I'm here! I'm here!" "Good, now we can get this show on the road," Fleurette said. "Sure," the other three shrugged. *********** {NIck's Loft} Eowyn let the Nothers into the Loft. Fleurette gave her the cube-thingie pendant. "Make sure Nick gets it," she said. "I have a feeling he'll know what to do with it." "Thanks," Eowyn said, taking it. "I will." She was about to show them to the door when Vachon noticed them. "Hey!" he shouted form across the room. "You made it!" The Nothers filed into the Loft, Liz and Kat bringing the refreshments with them. "Hey, food!" Vachon noticed, coming over to help. "What's on the trays?" "Veggies from the garden," Liz answered. "And cookies," Kat added. Jeanne and Elladara went wandering about the loft, looking at this and that while NightDancer and Fleurette joined the rest of the Vaqs in front of the television. Kat and Liz searched for some place to drop off their trays, finally settling on the counter next to the kitchen. Juan, the generic Inca, noticed the movie in Fleurette's hand. "What's that?" he asked. "_Murder in a Small Town_," Fleurette told him. "Is it good?" Juan asked. Fleurette shrugged. "I've actually never seen it," she admitted. "But I hear," she glanced at Vachon, flashing a wicked smile. "That one of the actors looks real familiar." ************* Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sun Aug 29 17:17:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LCHq-0001Zi-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 17:14:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3494; Sun, 29 Aug 99 17:12:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9338; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 17:12:37 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 14:19:36 -0700 Reply-To: "Laura K. Griffin" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Laura K. Griffin" Subject: WAR: DP: Rest in Peace 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 40178cecee20b1c71d0da42a06656cfd WAR: DP: Rest in Peace 01/01 by Laura Griffin Time: August 29, Sunday night just before sundown Place: Dark Perk Mansion "What are you doing, Mom?" John-Travis asked Laura. He'd found her in the backyard of the Mansion beside what appeared to be an empty grave. But it wasn't empty. Looking down into the rich soil, he saw a hatchet resting at the bottom along with what looked like strips of rope. "I'm just cleaning up a bit before we head out of Toronto. Here...get one of those shovels and help me fill this in." She sounded weary, but she actually had a smile on her face. John-Travis grabbed one of the spades and began pushing dirt into the makeshift tomb. "Burying the hatchet and getting rid of the loose ends?" "Yep." They fell silent as they finished the task. When the there was no longer a hole, a simple mound remained. "Okay...now stand that stone up." He looked where she was pointing and saw the old-fashioned grave marker that had been lying face down in the grass. He grabbed one end and shoved the thing to a standing position. Now he was able to read its inscription: "Here lies the DP remains of War 10. May they rest in peace." "Ready to go home, Mom?" "Yes, Son...I'm ready." "Then...Make it So!" And home they went. End-- Cousin Laura -- The Dark CERK Perk http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Portal/6866/Laura.htm "Even though you're refracted, you're still you." -- 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile' From - Sun Aug 29 17:30:44 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LCUg-0001y5-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 17:28:06 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3612; Sun, 29 Aug 99 17:25:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0595; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 17:25:52 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 17:28:10 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Just one more thing (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1bd1a6e2d54bf18195e0749d5a288a79 Title: Cousins LCL: Just one more thing (1/1) Date: Saturday, August 28, 1999 Time: Afternoon, Immediately following "Where No Tour Guide Has Gone Before (3/3)" Place: The Monastery By: Arletta Asbury "There's just one more thing," Madge said. "What?" Arletta asked with some hesitation. The Light Cousins had been exchanging phone numbers and addresses and other bits of similarly useful information with Madge, their newly hired Tour Guide. And Arletta sincerely hoped that nothing would interfere now. "Why haven't you arranged the furnishings by now? I mean, goodness knows, it wasn't necessary for the tours. And so *I* decided to leave things as they were. Safely stored away. But why haven't *you* arranged them by now?" "Huh?" Arletta and the other Light Cousins replied simultaneously. They all looked at Madge in puzzlement. Seeing their uncomprehending stares, Madge got up and opened an innocuous looking door to revealed a large closet stacked floor-to- ceiling with furniture. In fact, it was so full of items that all they could discern clearly was the overstuffed living-room set nearest the open door. Undoubtedly other goodies, lay hidden behind it. After a moment of stunned surprise, all of the Light Cousins burst out laughing. They DID have a HQ with furniture, after all!! From - Sun Aug 29 19:33:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LD9R-0003Eg-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 18:10:14 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3747; Sun, 29 Aug 99 18:07:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2313; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 18:07:56 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:11:01 -0700 Reply-To: J Jaxson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: J Jaxson Subject: WAR: DP Going on A Mission (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 05e24886f43f15119f0ccd2ede5e00ba War DP: Going on a Mission (1/1) Place: Toronto DP Mansion in particular Time: Friday Aug. 27th breakfast time By: JJaxson All people used with a sense of dread but willingly. 'Okay' This afternoon just wasn't going the way that June wanted. To top it off Peep had misplace her favorite shoes. Maybe misplaced isn't exactly it. More like taken, the little bugger. She wanted to go shopping and now she'd have to wear another pair. Oh well maybe she'd shop a little longer for a new pair. Hide those so maybe, just maybe they'd stay put for a few minutes. Still feeling light headed and not to sure how long she was going to retain a thought. June scrambled in the closet for another pair of shoes. Next on the agenda was to pick up her crystal pouch. Even though she thought she'd sleep off most of the effects of the afternoon. She still couldn't remember much. Come to think of it she couldn't seem to retain much either. Well enough babbling. Grimacing at the pink paint stains on her fingers. Okay pink was nice. But baby pink! Jeez, she hadn't worn that color since kindegarden. Couldn't even remember that. Yesterday she had to sacrifice her favorite jeans to the incinerator. A good excuse to go shopping today. That way she could be scarce and out of Mary's way. It wasn't just bad enough finding herself covered in pink paint. That could be explained and corrected. But they'd been attacked and the whole DP Mansion was painted an ikky shade of baby pink. At least she hadn't been to much into that scene. Although she'd had a look recently. It looked much better at night than the day. If she went shopping she could pick up some paint. Maybe a painting party. Cafe a la mode. Umm. First she had to get cracking. After dressing and putting on her shoes. The other ones still hadn't appeared. June finally made it down stairs. Making her way to the kitchen. As all good perks do upon waking. Picking the coffee pot up and pouring a cup, she noticed some of the other DP's sitting at the table, each drinking there own flavor of coffee. Maya, Martin and Jenn #2 looked up when she walked over to stand next to the table. 'Hey guys. Feeling better'. A course of mumbled 'ye' uh hu' and 'some' greeted that query. From the recently whammied trio sitting at the table. Other comments and statement came from the more coherent sitting, eating breakfast with relish. 'Look I was going to Home Stop for some paint and other stuff. Any of you wanna go.' Rose looked up. 'Sure. You could hear Mary clear down the block when she saw the Mansion. I'd just as soon be somewhere else if she still hasn't calmed down.' 'Ill come to.' Eric said standing up. 'Me too' Jenn#3 put in. 'If we get the Mansion back to a reasonable color she'd have to calm down wouldn't she.' Not to sure that the godmother would ever calm down. Coming in to find the DP Mansion a pink had been .... well you don't wanna go there. 'Lets go then.' June said turning toward the back door. 'How about money. I just remembered. Tracy will kill us if we use the card more.' Jenn#3 voiced the concern that was also on Eric and Rose's mind. 'Yeah, but she'll have a cow if she sees the Mansion like this. 'Andrea said coming into the kitchen. 'I'll go with you guys. You'll need someone that knows how to paint. Hey anybody come up with something to pay them back.' At the door June turned to the others. 'I have a plan.' Turned around and out the door they went. **later** Well they had finally arrived at the home and garden store. It had only taken the efforts of all four DP's to accomplish this task. With Eric driving they had reached the place without a mishap, barely. One wouldn't count the four near misses. Or even the gestures received. Different country, different rules of the road. June knew that from all the driving test she had administered to those Canadian snow birds. Getting a couple of carts and rejoining Eric and June. Jenny #3 and Rose almost had there own accidents involving a forklift. Barely swerving to avoid it they made it back to the front of the store. 'How about we split up and get the supplies and meet at the check out counter' Jenny#3 said looking to the other's for agreement. Being the one that was best with the task at hand it had been agreed she would be in charge of the materials needed, along with the task. Agreeing to meet back up front in 30 minutes they set off. Rose went with June and Andrea to get the paint brushes and trays. Eric and Jenny#3 went off in search of paint and drop clothes. Half way down the first aisle staffs where found and immediately Eric and Jenny#3 where into a battle. Parrying left then right to avoid a nasty blow Eric almost lost his feet when Jenny#3 made a lunge to his mid section. 'You're not half bad.' 'Wait and see you scoundrel, I'll have a victory yet.' 'Oh really. Not if I have anything to say about it.' Fifteen minutes later they had to concede a tie. **The other side** Rose almost couldn't move the basket it was so loaded. After picking the paint and having it mixed, the three DP's had been going through the wallpaper department when Andrea had spotted sponge kits for decorating walls. One such kit was an *imitation* Peter Rabit (tm) look alike. Looking at the kit, it had been pointed out how you could cut the sponge off at the head and the bunny would be headless. Giggling over that thought that kit had gone into the shopping cart. Along the way back to the front several other items had mysteriously appeared in there basket. The best being the pottery statues for the front yard. It had appeared that a shipment had come in cracked and the store was going to take a loss on them. Rose had talked to the manager and the DP's had become the proud recipients of a load of headless bunnies, frogs, and owls. At a rock bottom price. Eric and Jenny#3 had finished getting enough brushes and drop clothes to start there own business. Coming around the corner they crashed into the others. Sending a display to the floor. Everyone started picking things up off the floor when Rose took a good look at what they where setting back. 'Guys we can't pass this up.' 'Nope'. Jenny#3 said. Eric just grinned. 'Okay, but we'll have to get enough for everyone.' June said starting to count out how many she would need. And so the DP's came home with paint, drop clothes, brushes, decal kits, the pottery. Added was black overalls with smiley faces on the bibs that declared 'Perky Party in Progress'. June (^^)**MS**DP**MN**FKP**ETC... :-P THE BLONDE WITH BRAINS mrms_katz@worldnet.att.net "You're just jealous cause the voices only talk to me!" FK Faction Webring http://moonprincess.net/webring/ FK Backgrounds http://moonprincess.net/backgrounds/ From - Sun Aug 29 19:34:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LDR6-0005O7-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 18:28:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3801; Sun, 29 Aug 99 18:26:18 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3153; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 18:26:19 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 15:29:27 -0700 Reply-To: J Jaxson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: J Jaxson Subject: WAR: DP Streaks, Splats, and ......Dots? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d63572f64fbdf5d4b84dffdcc2a679c0 WAR: DP Streaks, Splats, and ....Dots? Place: DP Mansion When: Friday Aug. 27th Afternoon By: JJaxson All people used with a sense of dread but willingly. Toting cans of paints and various supplies to points around the house the mighty five musketeers had returned from their journey. Rose and Jenny#3 along with June had went to scavenge the kitchen for lunch while they worked on painting the house. Eric had braved the garage for ladders. Upon returning outside with platters and bowls of chicken salad, rolls, fruit, and juices. Mainly iced coffee. The group set upon opening and mixing paint. Spreading out with one person for every few feet they could work on a section at a time. Not to mention the same bucket of paint. Jenny#3 had given them stations like a drill instructor performing the march. I mean hut, two, three, four. Right away. Grumbling had been sparked with that. But the house had to be painted, not to mention upon agreement Jenny#3 had been put in charge. Somehow the thought went through more than one mind it maybe a long afternoon. Just as the cans of paint where being poured into trays Miranda came downstairs to inquire about the mess. Quickly going over the game plan Jenny#3 had assigned her to lunch duty, after which she could do the doors. Soon everyone was laughing and painting. Dressed in their duds which almost had to be forced onto Miranda. Till she got into the spirit of it. It didn't take long with everyone pitching in and helping with a section here or there. Suddenly from around the side of the house can screeching. Then a loud crash. Everyone raced around to see what happened. Coming to a sudden stop for there on the ground was Eric and Miranda amid a what can only be called a mess. 'What happened.' Shana said coming from the back where she'd been in the kitchen. Smiling Eric looked over at Miranda. 'It was an accident. She was practically walking under the ladder. I turned to warn her about walking under them and tipped the paint.' With paint streaming from her hair Miranda caught the gleam in Eric's eye. 'Eric you did that on purpose.' Going for the paintbrush she had dropped she proceeded to paint Eric's face. Not to miss anything the other DP's soon joined in. With paintbrushes welded like daggers and rollers like swords an all out paint fight was under way. It took June and Rose to notice Shana off to the side watching the fight. With looks to each other then signals to the others fighting paused. 'You know Shana I think your entirely to clean.' June said. Taking steps toward her, Shana turned and picked up an abandoned roller. Trying to hold everyone off, it was soon evident that Shana was way out numbered. As to what a DP would do when presented with this situation. Why fight them when you can join them!! June (^^)**MS**DP**MN**FKP**ETC... :-P THE BLONDE WITH BRAINS "You're just jealous cause the voices only talk to me!" FK Faction Webring http://moonprincess.net/webring/ June (^^)**MS**DP**MN**FKP**ETC... :-P THE BLONDE WITH BRAINS "You're just jealous cause the voices only talk to me!" FK Faction Webring http://moonprincess.net/webring/ From - Sun Aug 29 19:34:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LEG3-0002MK-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 19:21:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4004; Sun, 29 Aug 99 19:18:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7843; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 19:18:48 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 16:17:56 -0700 Reply-To: "Nancy A. Taylor" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Nancy A. Taylor" Subject: WAR: Knighties: Party Hardly?!? (1/3) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ee3037cec6f91abb98529711ec5ef7ad Title: Party Hardly?!? Part 1/3 By Stephers Jordan =20 Place: The loft Date:. Sat Aug 21 Time: early morning Note: heh.. all knighties were used with permission heh=20 ************************************** She wasn't QUITE sure how to repay these people. It was getting close to the end and she wanted to reward them all. After all, they'd taken her in right away and made her their own...OK so in being their own she tripped a lot and broke stuff, but she was still their own! And after planning secretly for about a week, she was going to give them all the deserved! "Where can I hide all this stuff? It's not going to fit anywhere!" She had gone out and bought streamers, party hats and some other off-beat stuff, but where could she hide it all? "Thank Goddess everyone is asleep. I couldn't bear for them to wake up with this mess here." She jumped up from her bed and picked up the sack which held all of her stuff. She quietly danced around the sleeping Knighties and attempted to hide the party favors. She first went to the bathroom where she took a zipper lock baggie and threw the hats into it. She then sealed it and threw it into the toilet's tank. Then she took the plastic table cloths and box of glitter confetti and slipped them onto a shelf up high in the shower. "Okies, hats and table cloths are cool, now what about all the rest of this stuff?" She then took out the smaller items (such as the streamers and napkins) and looked around for somewhere to hide them. "No, no... Hey when did I start talking to myself? And why am I waiting for an answer???" She just shrugged and walked towards the kitchen. She COULD put some stuff in here although Katrinka had been cooking a lot lately... Oh well. She then took the paper items and put them into an empty coffee jar. "Yep, that'll work. Now what about the food?" She had to make something wonderful, something unforgettable, something... "What I am thinking, let's just hope it's edible!" =20 Stephanie spent the next 2 hrs hours trying to cook stuff. The menu wasn't going to be very big after all. The only things she had learned how to make in Home Ec. last year were chili, quiche and a few other oddities. "I hope they like this stuff...what am I saying? I hope they can hold it down..." She thought=85 "Geeez cant anyone get any sleep around here?" Steph rolled over and heard the shouting from the roof. She forced herself outta bed and went down stairs see what was going on=85 "hmmmm," She looked around and saw." "ZOE CMON QUICK CMON ON" she said. Zoe shook her head and pointed to her ears. Steph frowned deeply and reached down and ripped the audio device out of the brunette's ears. "EEEEEEOOOOWWW!" Zoe squealed, "Dude! What did you do that for?!" "I said, we have a problem on the roof, something is going on with Roz!"=20 Zoe's eyes widened. She clamored outta her position, "Could have just said that instead of ripping my ears off, man!" With a glare, Steph ignored Zoe's whining and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the roof. With staggering speed they went up to the roof.=20 (To see what happenes read "Quote the raven nevermore") =20 At 11 30 steph rolled back into bed=85 It was around 12 30 and Steph needed to carry on with HER mission... The only thing stopping her was this pesky case of narcolepsy she had... Okay, maybe it wasn't narcolepsy but it was pretty close! Anyhow, she rolled out of her "bed" and onto the floor. Oh, how she missed staring at the ceiling at home. She gathered all of her strength up and did it... She stood up. As she looked around she noticed most of the other Knighties were awake busying themselves with this and that...=20 Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LEUI-0005nr-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 19:35:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0965; Sun, 29 Aug 99 19:33:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9200; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 19:33:32 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 19:35:58 -0400 Reply-To: g4akl@CHARM.NET Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Arletta Asbury Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: An Unexpected Visitor (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4ffbc0cf72b9e6712c9ceb04c7be4dcd Title: Cousins LCL: An Unexpected Visitor (1/1) Author: Arletta Asbury, with permission of all used Date: Saturday, August 28th Time: Afternoon, around 4pm, after "Donation (1/1)" Place: The Monastery The four of them sat in one of the twin parlors at the HQ of the Light Cousins. It was newly and very comfortably furnished with some of the discoveries revealed by Madge their new Tour Guide. They were enjoying the luxury of real actual living-room-type furniture as opposed to the hard wooden chairs that they'd been making do with thruout most of the war. Of course, the *other* rooms has yet to be dealt with as well. Shelley and Arletta had stood watching as Annette and Brandi struggled with the heavier items. "Are you SURE you can't help with this stuff?" Brandi complained. "Uh huh," Shelley said, brandishing her cane. "My back and all, you know." "Me neither," chimed in Arletta, trying not to smile. This was ONE time that having a bad back actually was an advantage.... "Sure," said Annette dubiously, and directed a dirty look at Arletta who didn't *appear* to have any problem except keeping a straight face while Annette and Brandi shoved furniture around. The mutiny when it arrived, hadn't been as bad as one might have supposed. Annette and Brandi had simply sat down in the parlor ON the furniture that they ALONE had moved, and refused to budge another inch. And eventually they had calmed down, cooled off, and begun to enjoy the situation. Shelley brought refreshments for everyone from the kitchen and they all had just begun to really enjoy their new furnishings when they became aware of another presence in the room. "Enjoying your new headquarters, I see," Lacroix said, "I trust that you don't consider your work finished." With that he turned and left. From - Sun Aug 29 20:24:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LFEL-0004B1-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:23:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4302; Sun, 29 Aug 99 20:21:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2536; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:21:09 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 18:18:34 -0600 Reply-To: Stormer Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stormer Subject: War: N&NPack: A General Statement of Approval To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: dbbed579fcb4d8329cde25655cbfd976 A General Statement of Approval By Rogue Cousin Tammy Time: Sunday Morning. After "Tying Up Loose Ends" but before "Reconciliation" LaCroix, Cousin Tserisa, and Isabella used with permission. ------------ Tammy sat out front of CERK for about an hour before she finally steeled herself, turned off the motorcycle and approached the door. She stepped through the door and addressed the receptionist, "Hi... I'd like to speak to one of the Cousins in charge." "Who may I ask is calling?" She asked suspiciously, as she set down her pencil on the pad of paper where she had been doodling fashion drawings. She sounded annoyed at the interuption. "Rogue Cousin Tammy of the Nick and Natpack," Tammy supplied waiting for the girl's reaction. To her credit, her only reaction was an arched eyebrow as she buzzed someone's line. "A *Rogue Cousin* Tammy to see someone in charge." Her voice carried a rather suspicious tone as she spoke into the phone. Another Cousin appeared from the back and approached the Nick and Natpacker, "I'm Cousin Tserisa. Can I help you?" "I hope so... I just wanted to check to make certain Uncle was alright... er, back to normal... Oh heck, a vampire again! After all I may need a new faction next time around after what I had to pull, so that Nick had the opportunity to make the right decision." Cousin Tser's expression softened somewhat as she started to speak then stopped when a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows. "Right decision?" His smooth voice asked without a hint of emotion. Tammy was somewhat awed at the elder vampire's sudden appearance, but soon rallied in typical Rogue Cousin fashion. "Yes. The right choice. Nick shouldn't be allowed to unmake decisions that people made about their own lives hundreds of years ago." "Quite." LaCroix studied the girl for a few moments, "You are the one who calls herself a Rogue Cousin, yet you run with the Nick and Natpack. Explain." Now Tammy was on familiar ground, it was a question that came up often, now it seemed that all of those explanations were just prepartory to this one. "I represent your interests there, which is to say that while I agree with the N&NPackers that Nick and Natalie should be together," LaCroix scowled at this, "I also think that Nick should stop trying to become something he's not. Mortality isn't going to assuage his guilt. He must learn to accept who he is and what he has done, only then will he find peace. If he accepted his vampire and brought Natalie across they could have an eternity." Tammy noted that LaCroix looked thoughtful and added, "And you would have your son back and a granddaughter to add to your family." LaCroix nodded, "Why would you need a new faction for the next war?" Tammy quickly related the events of the past day, where she used misdirection and reverse psychology to manipulate the Nick and Natpackers into giving Nick their elements. At this LaCroix almost smiled and nodded. 'This one has promise. She could be a useful tool,' was his thought as he spoke again, "You may continue to call yourself -Rogue Cousin-, Rogue Cousin Tammy." This was an obvious dismissal as he walked back into the depths of CERK. Cousin Tserisa smiled at the Rogue Cousin, "Just call if you need a new faction next year!" "I will," Tammy said smiling back, "See you next war..." The Rogue Cousin walked out of CERK feeling much better about everything until she remembered that she now had to go back to the theatre to relay the news of all the vampires' return to their former state. "Out of the frying pan..." she mumbled to herself as she mounted her cafe racer and headed for the N&Npack HQ. ----------------- Comments to: tabby_katt@technowizards.net From - Sun Aug 29 20:54:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LFgs-00053V-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:52:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4432; Sun, 29 Aug 99 20:50:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4435; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:50:37 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:52:01 EDT Reply-To: Knightwave@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: + All Subject: War: UF: And Away We Go! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 087e99d567bc6de1bfc525a1abf5cfac War: UF: And Away We Go! By: April Hackett & Susan Ellen Field Setting: The Hive Time: a couple hours before 'Wine and Honey' post "Susan? Are you ready?" April asked loading her few pieces of luggage into the Dakota. Susan hurried out of the Hive, carrying yet more bags, plus Cujo. "Where's Elfin? Doesn't she need a lift back to the airport?" April asked looking around. "I asked her, but she sorta looked at me funny and said that she would call a cab. I don't think she wants to leave until tomorrow." "I'm sorry about leaving now, Susan, but I really need to get going. It's a long drive back to Virginia." "I know. Plus my plane ticket says I have to be at the airport in Virginia Beach Monday morning. "Okay then, let's go!" April, Susan and Cujo took one last look at the hive. It had been a long two weeks, but as always, they enjoyed their visit with all their friends. Wistfully they thought back to the adventures they had. "Come on, it's a long drive back," April said wiping away a small tear. She started the truck up and began to pull out of the driveway when she felt a sudden jerk, followed by the truck sinking on the left front side. April climbed out and watched her tire rapidly descending into another flat. "Damn it! Susan, I can't afford another tire right now." She was sure that somehow it was Susan's fault. "It's not me, honest April! I left most of my stuff in the Hive! I learned my lesson about the luggage the first time round." "If it's not because of all your luggage, then what could..." April walked round to the front of the truck, and noticed that there was something shiny poking out from under her tire. "Susan, do you remember which pedal is the clutch?" "I think so, why?" "Scoot over to the driver's seat, and press the clutch all the way to the floor. *Don't start the truck!* Just step on the clutch, okay?" "Okay, April." April leaned down and pushed against the front corner of her truck, but it didn't budge. "Susan, press on the other clutch pedal," April sighed. "Oh, sorry. Okay." April gave the Dakota a push and it rolled slowly back a few inches. She bent down and jerked the tongs of a bent, sterling silver fork out of her tire. The sound of air leaking increased, as did the flatness of her tire. Walking around to the door, she bounced the offending item between her fingers. "Would you look at that? This little thing is what caused the flat." April watched Susan's eyes grow as big as saucers as the level of sarcasm, not to mention the blasted fork caught her attention. "I guess somebody must have left it in the driveway." "Ugh..." Susan cleared her throat and weakly said, "I guess it fell off the chain you were wearing, huh." "Hmm. I told you I didn't need to wear that stupid fork: that the silver chain on my amulet would have sufficed." April backed down a notch and sighed, "I shouldn't have let you talk me into going to that celebration, decked out like a service for eight." "You were so cute, though," Susan softly replied, sensing her friend wasn't really mad. A slow smile grew on April's face as she gazed at Susan. She reached in and gently pushed her back toward the passenger's seat. "Cute, indeed," she laughed. "Hand me that cell phone, would you? Climbing back into the truck, she took her cell phone and began to punch in a number she'd memorized early in this trip. Turning to Susan as it rang, April said, "I guess you'll be able to go with Leslie and the others to the Loft after all." The ecstatic scream that rang out in the truck nearly deafened April's right ear. "Thank you, April. Thank you, thank you very much!" Susan yelled as she jumped out of the truck and sprinted toward the Hive, Cujo clutched tightly under her arm. April smiled as a happy voice sang out, "Leslie! I can go and thanks to a fork," through the open front door. She turned her attention back to the imminent problem when a male voice spoke on April's cell phone. "Hello? Is this 'There's no business like tow business?" The End.... till Next War From - Sun Aug 29 22:27:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LH7f-0003hT-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:24:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2882; Sun, 29 Aug 99 22:22:23 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8534; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:22:23 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:24:12 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA/CGW: On the Trail (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e88017edf7d3f7d100cdd08b164f5e26 Title: On the Trail (1/1) Author: Christy Stillman Time/Place: The Fiendish Glow, Saturday, August 28, about 7 p.m. Notes: Everybody used with permission. As the week wore on and there was still no word from the MacCousin, the Addicts began to get nervous. This War had seen people mysteriously disappear from their ranks right and left, but they had always shown up again. Heather was breaking the cycle by not turning up, and foul (or possibly fowl, during Wartime who knew) play was suspected. There had been no demand for ransom indicating that she had been kidnaped by another faction (or even a Nother faction-- okay, I couldn't resist tossing in the pun, so shoot me), and no one had a klew what fate may have befallen their missing comrade-in-arms. So it came to pass that The Three Nunketeers (aka Glennis, Dee and Christy) were called upon to initiate an investigation. This wasn't necessarily because the three were particularly good at sleuthing or because they were incredibly stealthy. This assignment had been given them for two reasons: 1) *somebody* had to start looking, and two of the three were newbies, making them fair game for grunt work, and 2) it would keep them as far away from the Third Cousin's abused platinum card as possible. They now sat inside The Fiendish Glow, nursing soft drinks and taking in their surroundings while waiting for Brenda to finish up a few things in the office. "Nice place," Glennis said. "Yeah," agreed Dee. "I wouldn't mind hanging here for the rest of the War. At least it's quiet." That was when the Neanderthal (or possibly an incredibly large rat) carrying a large, wiggling tartan sack burst through the door. Wrapped in furs and brandishing a large stake, he shouted, "I am Dunbar of Wallace, and I have come to reclaim my place as lord of this manor!" The head waitress ran from the bar toward the office shouting, "Pen, Brenda, come quick!" Christy rolled her eyes. "So much for quiet." Dee turned to Glennis. "Maybe there'll be another bar fight!" The women grinned, eyes gleaming. "Why are they bringing out the cat?" Christy pointed a finger toward Lucius, Destroyer of Pens, who was even now clawing his way up the tartan sack. "Did I hear that sack mumble?" Mumbling sack or no, Lucius was intent on his goal. Leaping, he made for the stake still being held aloft, causing a domino effect knocking the fur-clad man, his sack, a table, a couple of chairs, and bystanders to the ground. A head of red hair emerged from the bundle and the black cat pawed at the wrapping to reveal.... "It's the MacCousin!!" Glennis crowed. "Why does she have that red rag stuck in her cleavage?" Dee wondered. "Does it matter?" Christy beamed. "Heather's back!" From - Sun Aug 29 22:32:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHAW-0003pU-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:27:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4794; Sun, 29 Aug 99 22:25:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8754; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:25:19 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:26:58 -0500 Reply-To: Annette Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Annette Subject: WAR: Cousins LCL: Saying Good Bye (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 08d84cece4f015a79e4e567b899a01b8 Title: Saying Good Bye (1/1) Date: Sunday, August 29, 1999 Time: Afternoon, 2pm by Annette Williams with permission from all used. The four Light Cousins all stood outside the Monastery each deep in thought over the events of the past two weeks Two cars and a Van sat loaded and ready to depart. While this trip had been chaotic and crazy, they would leave as usual with fond memories. "I just talked to John," said Shelley thoughtfully, "He agreed not to sell the kids if I'm home by tomorrow." "We need to drop off Edgar and Cordelia," said Arletta. "They're still acting a little weird," replied Shelley. "Edgar periodically dive bombs his tail." "I know," Arletta said, "Just keep the motor running while I drop them off. Ok last check, does everyone have everything?" "Frisky, Angel, Rascal, Check." said Brandi. "Star Trek episode guide, Check!" offered Annette. "Oh yeah, can't leave that!" Shelley said laughing. "Ok, group hug!" said Arletta as all four women hugged each other tightly. "Um, Annette, how about a Tour for the road?" asked Arletta. "Yeah, right!" Annette laughed, "Asymmetric Kanting, so there!" "I'm serious..." said Arletta, "Look." As Brandi, Shelley and Annette turned to look where Arletta pointed, they observed a van load of people pulling into the driveway in front of the monastery. The women all looked at each other stunned. Annette and Brandi ran to their cars while Shelley and Arletta stepped as quickly as possible into the van. A group of architectural students stepped out of their van and wondered what prompted the previous group to leave so quickly leaving a trail of dust and burnt rubber. From - Sun Aug 29 22:32:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHAx-0003qy-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:28:03 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4801; Sun, 29 Aug 99 22:25:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8826; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:25:44 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:07:18 EDT Reply-To: JKocich@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julia Kocich Subject: WAR: UF: Farewell from the White Room (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 408af21dac71b977419c8b92c16e899e WAR: UF: Farewell from the White Room (1/1) BY: Julia Kocich SETTING: The white room, the white chairs from Fat Pete's TIME: Now LAUREN: Where's Les? JULIA: I believe she's fending off inquiries from the Canadian equivalent of the ASPCA about a missing peacock. (to Lauren's reaction) Nah, don't worry: I don't believe it's an extraditable offense. LAUREN: I take it your law degree is signed by Perry Mason? LES (walks in, casually, and settles in her chair): So how's everybody doing? (sees their inquiring looks) Oh, that? I just directed him to the Warlock for answers to *all* his questions. (the three women burst into hysterical guffaws) JULIA (beat): So, how was your first War? LAUREN: Intense. Interesting. Frightening. Exhausting. Fun. Is it always this ... fraught? LES: Not in my experience, no. Each War is a form of communal madness, but this one seemed to be weighed towards "madness" and away from "communal." JULIA (thinks a bit, and perks up): But that's not the whole story, either! Look at the great job Marilyn and the War Correspondents did! I think it's the first time there was a coordinated effort, and she pulled it together after the War had officially gotten underway. (beat) And ... I don't *think* we violated the Premise, even though I still don't understand a word of it. (the three sit silently for a while, pondering War 10. "It's a Small World After All" begins playing in the distance, segueing into "It's a Long Way to Tipperrary") LAUREN: We made a silk purse out of a sow's ear ... LES: We were given lemons and made honey-sweetened lemonade ... JULIA: We didn't get banned ... (they fall back into an exhausted reverie) LES: So, do we meet here again, next War? JULIA: Only if you leave your smelly cigars at home. LAUREN: "I can't go on. I must go on"? LES (smiles): Something like that .... (fadeout) From - Sun Aug 29 22:47:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHNl-0000cK-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:41:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2949; Sun, 29 Aug 99 22:39:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9577; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:39:01 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:38:08 -0400 Reply-To: calliope Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: calliope Subject: WAR: NP: Food for thought To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: aa81cbc8fb3ab15254ad3953a7cdb5af NP: Food for Thought Wednesday afternoon by Sharon If anything, Natalie's apartment had become even more cluttered despite the best efforts of several NatPackers to tidy it up a bit. "Personally, I think all this crap multiplies while we're asleep," Sharon observed, dumping a pile of makeup sitting on the coffee table into a basket with one sweep of her arm. Meredith had insisted that Natalie sit this little endeavor out, observing that it was the least the group could do. Natalie had finally agreed, and was perched on the sofa leafing through a magazine. Everyone was joking and chatting amiably while they attempted to restore some sense of order to Nat's apartment. "Nat?" Judy asked shyly during a lull in the banter. "Mmmm?" Natalie said, glancing up over the pages. "Um, I was wondering...ah...Can I ask you a question?" "You just did!" several people yelled out. Natalie shot them a dirty look. "Of course," Natalie said, closing the magazine and placing it on top of the stack Jill was carrying as she walked past the couch. "Well...it's...I don't want to pry or anything, but I was wondering..." "Go on," Nat urged. "If it's too personal I'll just tell you it's none of your business. Not that any of you understand that, but I like to say it anyway." "It's just...how come, if Nick's mortal, you aren't spending more time with him? Isn't that what you wanted?" Tina dropped the stack of magazines into an untidy pile on the floor, which she didn't bother to pick up. "'Cause he's a putz!" Sharon yelled from the kitchen. "Sharon!" Natalie admonished. "Are you sure she's unwhammied?" James asked. Natalie sighed and shook her head, but a frown creased her forehead. "You know, I've been asking myself the same question," she said after a few moments. "Whether or not Sharon's unwhammied?" Betsy asked. "No!" Natalie said, grinning. "Why she hasn't jumped Nick's bones now that he's mortal," Sharon said, standing in the doorway. "Can I just walk over this stuff, or do you want me to cut a path?" "Cut a path," Jill said, and plopped onto the floor near the fireplace. Obligingly, Sharon began shoving things out of the way with her feet. "This is kind of fun," Sharon said, kicking a pillow in her path several feet into the air. "So, you want to talk about it, or should we just butt out?" Janet asked. "If you don't know the answer Nat, I do," Sharon added, finishing her path and plopping down next to Jill, handing her a bottle of Harp as she did so. "I'm sure you do," Natalie said. "And no doubt we'll hear all about them before this conversation is over," Debra Ann said. Nat leaned back against the cushins for a moment and regarded the group. "You know, I just can't get excited about this, and I really should be. I mean, it's what he wants, what we've been workig for." Natalie stopped talking and looked away for a moment. "What we've been working for," she added softly to herself. "Only you didn't cure him," Maureen said softly, joining everyone in the living room. "He just wakes up one morning, and poof! He's mortal. The cure just appeared out of thin air," Nat said. "And I am happy for him," she added after a moment. "It's just that...*I* wanted to be the one to find it for him, you know. I mean, what have I been doing all these years? It feels like I've just been wasting my time." Everyone seemed to realize that comments wouldn't be a very good idea Even Sharon managed to keep her mouth shut. "So I'm happy for him. Or trying to be," Nat said. "I'd never say this to him, but I'm...jealous, and I feel guilty for feeling jealous, like I shouldn't be, and..." Natalie stopped abruptly. "This is probably more information than any of you wanted." "Well, I think it's a perfectly rational reaction," Sharon said. "I certainly don't blame you. And in fact, let me just say that I'm relieved--" "It's also wartime," Judy said, cutting Sharon off before she went into a long lecture about the evils of Nick. Everyone, including Sharon, nodded. That statement sort of explained it all. "And there are all those women...Knighties...around him all the time. I suppose we could manage some quality time alone, but it would just be too weird." "Which is why I think he's probably not here," Lynn observed. "Given that we're all hanging out here," she added with a shrug. "So, the complex answer to your question is that there's just too much going on right now. It's all happening too fast, and I'm just not sure about things right now." Nat paused and bit her lip. "And," she added after a few moments, "There's a part of me that just doesn't believe this will last, you know? We've gotten close a few times before, but something always happens. I just...I don't know how many false starts I can take anymore." That answer seemed to satisfy everyone, even Judy who had posed the initial question. An awkward silence filled the room for a moment, only to be broken with a snort of laughter from Sharon. Everyone looked expectantly at her. "I just had a--" Sharon broke off into laughter. "What?" "Do you think Nick has eaten jalepeno peppers yet?" "Oh, I'm sure the Nicklet is porking his way across Toronto even as we speak," Jill added, chuckling. "Yeah, yeah," Nat said laughing, "but can you imagine a guy from the middle ages, who's probably never eaten anything but deer meet and cheese, and maybe some fruit suddenly horking down chili peppers?" "I did that once," Sharon said, sobering quickly. "It was not a pretty site." After a moment she added, "I don't even think I'd wish that on anyone. Even Nick." As everyone waited expectantly, some exchaning knowing glances, Sharon thought about it for another moment, then shrugged. "You know, on second thought..." From - Sun Aug 29 22:47:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHNr-0004Iy-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:41:24 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1714; Sun, 29 Aug 99 22:39:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9565; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:39:00 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:35:28 -0500 Reply-To: "Jesse F." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jesse F." Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 10/? To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0bbf0834e5acbea3c14b69c3a749929b NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 10/? by Patt Elmore, with snips by Cousin Erik, Nite and KC When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Meanwhile, Erik was managing to stay one step ahead of his adversaries. Accustomed as they were to vampiric speed and strength, they had been initially easy surprised by Erik's quickness and agility. But that advantage was becoming very minimal as they began to adjust to their present states. Erik scored a quick jab to Kriel's gut, but wasn't fast enough to evade the kidney punch thrown by one of his friends. To his credit, though, the Nunkamale was managing more hits on them than they were on him. Unfortunately, he was also a lot closer to going down than anyone realized. "Erik looks like he might be getting into trouble over there," Jesse said, spotting the action near the left exit. "I think we better go give him some backup." "Do you think he'll be offended by some women offering to help?" RevSam seemed genuinely concerned about male ego fragility. Also, being a cleric, it was against her nature to engage in combat. "Well, if he is, or if he isn't, it's not fair for him to hog all the action," Jesse announced, drawing her light-sabre out of its sheath. She clicked on the mechanism and held the laser aloft. "This is for Jennifer!" "Such a weird, rowdy group," Kathy remarked, her back to Rae as they both watched for wild punches. "The least they could do was offer proper refreshments for their battle weary guests." "These are Addicts," Rae explained to the FoD. "The only thing they put in their cups is drool." "Yuck!" Kathy made a face. "That's disgusting." "You want disgusting?" a now free KC cried. "Watch this!" The Kissing Cousin sent out a mental beacon, focusing in on LaCroix. Spying her buzz-cut love monkey, the small woman from Arkansas launched herself at him. Before a surprised LaCroix could defend himself, KC climbed up on his back and proceeded to inflict him with a scuffling head noogie. "How come she gets what she wanted, and I don't?!!!" Tiff wailed in protest. "She's *not* more evil than I!!" "But," KC cackled wickedly, still maintaining her grip on a thrashing Nunkies. "My idea didn't invade Patt's sacred territory. You have to be original to be truly evil!!" Laurie, still perched comfortably and safely on the bar, thought it was time to re-insert herself into the story. She had been watching KC and LaCroix with interest, particularly amused at the ex-vampire's predicament. As KC came within range, dragging the General along, the Poobah hollered in the Addict's ear, "You also have to have talent, you Nunkhead.". At that, KC spun around, releasing LaCroix, who almost, but not quite, shot the Poobah a grateful glance. Finally facing the most presumptuous MercBard, KC sneered at her (she thought) unworthy opponent. "So . . . think you can get by in Patt's post with those kinds of remarks, do you?" she scoffed. "Insulting Nunkies? In an NA post? Well think again, missy! And you have about as much chance of taking over the world as I have of joining the NBA! And just for the record, it's 'Muahahaha', not 'Bwhahahaha'!" What, your cut and paste didn't work right? Or don't you know how to read?" KC cried. The Arkansas Addict charged the smirking GHP, but instead hit Glennis. Laurie simply moved a bit along the bar, once again untouched, thinking She peered at the crowd. Across the room, Alliecat cried out a demand. "Break!!" The combatants in her general vicinity stopped and stared at the woman. Grabbing a mug of draft from a passing barmaid, Allie quickly chug-a-lugged the brew. She wiped the foam from her mouth and smiled in satisfaction. "What was that all about?" Ivy asked, elbowing Bram. "I think that's just Patt trying to honor all bar fight requests submitted by the Addicts," Bram shrugged. "That's why this has turned into an epic longer than 'Braveheart.'" At the mention of one of her favorite movies, Caren popped her head out from under an overturned table. "'Braveheart?' Is Mel Gibbers in *this* post too?" A quick glance around the room proved disappointing to the Mel-addicted NA, so she sighed deeply and dropped into her shelter again. Nite found herself still a bit groggy from the wild and crazed Conversion Day activities, having awoke with a trout under her head. Now she was faced with this crazy beer slinging shindig. She had stood around smugly, ducking UFOs's flying overhead, around head, all barely missing the sometimes quiet drill person. Then out of nowhere she was covered in beer and what felt very much like sand. It could have been salt, who cares this was war! If they wanted grit and grime, Nite would give it to them. She yanked a disgustingly sandy floor mat out from under another participant, not bothering to see who it was, and slung the scratchy thing across the room letting it land wherever. She shouted to her own compadre in total surprise but slight amusement when the nasty mat landed on KC's head, totally distracting the Kissing Cousin, who had extracted herself from Vaquera Echo's grip and was angrily peering around the room looking for the GHP, determined that the Poobah would not escape her vengeance." Uh Oh!" Nite prepared herself for the worst of what would surely follow. For a moment, KC only glared at the newbie. Nite began issuing profuse apologies, but all for naught. Nite's amusement soon turned to dismay when the veteran addict grabbed Nite by the melon and gave her a noogie that the youngster wouldn't soon forget. "I LOVE NOOGIES!!"the diminutive Arkansan cried out in glee. 'I RULE THE WORLD!!" Not satisfied with the current punishment, the slightly sandy KC hitched Nite by her kiester, and slid her across the bar. Seeing her coming, the MercBard jumped off the bar, once again avoiding injury. As his mistress slid by, Egrus Toga bleeped in display. He trailed her down the bartop, chirping encouragement as she cleared glasses and mugs from the surface. Meanwhile, back with Erik . . . It was all the Nunkamale could do to stay standing. He was deflecting the blows thrown at him, occasionally redirecting an attack at him toward another of his opponents, but couldn't garner the strength to land any attacks of his own. A foot kissed his face, and he was instantly on the ground, blood welling in his mouth. Kriel was on him in a flash, dragging Erik to his feet. True to his ex-vampiric nature, he gripped Erik around the throat with his forearm and pulled his head to the side. He whispered in Erik's ear, "When this mortality thing is all over, I'm coming for you. I'm going to rip open your throat and gorge on your blood." Erik craned his head around so he could look Kriel in the eye. Then he spat a mouthful of blood in Kriel's face. "Gorge away," he hissed as he sunk his teeth into Kriel's wrist. The GROUT-worker screamed and released his grip just enough for Erik to grab Kriel's arm and throw him into the nearest wall. In unison, Sapo and Luke grabbed pool cues and snapped them in half, brandishing the thick ends as clubs. Erik backed away slowly, sure that he had nothing left in him. Inexplicably, he felt a tug on his kilt. He spared a moment to glance down and noticed RevSam crouched under the table beside Erik. "When I say 'drop', she mouthed, "drop!" Erik nodded almost imperceptibly and returned his gaze to the two goons advancing on him. Just as they were in swinging range, a voice from under the table yelled, "DROP!!" Erik went down as RevSam came up, bracing the table with her back. Erik ducked under the table and together they supported the table as a shield and pushed the two ex-vamps into the pool table. Dropping the makeshift shield on top of the fallen foes, RevSam jerked her head toward the door. "Wanna get out of here?" Erik looked around at the rapidly diminishing foray around him. "Yeah. That'd be great." Ducking and dodging, Laurie skirted the edges of the crowd, locating and advancing on LaCroix, who had retreated to a corner to rest and watch the combat. "I told you that Patt couldn't finish it in ten," the GHP addressed the elder ex-vampire in a mocking tone. She extended her hand. "Pay up." Reluctantly, the General gave her back the NickPop. Laurie looked down at the confection, then back up at LaCroix, her brow knitted in irritation. "Hey, wait a minute. Part of him is missing." She gave Nunkies a stern look. "What happened to the best part of his anatomy?" "I rendered it to the correct proportions," LaCroix countered. Then he licked his lips and smiled slyly at the Poobah. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 10/? patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 29 22:47:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHPk-0004Nv-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:43:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4860; Sun, 29 Aug 99 22:41:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9729; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:40:54 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:37:08 -0500 Reply-To: "Jesse F." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jesse F." Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 11/? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c41fd3efb98d070c877fb223a9d68e58 NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 11/? by Patt Elmore, with filk and major input by the GHP When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As Erik and RevSam had noted, the fight gave several indications of winding down. Most of the battlers were weary, and had given up their chair legs and broken pool cues for a refreshing mug of their favorite beverage. More people now sat and stood around watching, rather than participating. "Times like this, you wish you were Klingon," Rae laughed, slapping Supaige on the back. "Such a damn fine battle." "Careful, there, Vaq," Supaige sputtered a warning. "No crossovers." Rae was non-plussed. "I thought Star Trek references were okay?" Supaige shook her head. Bons was quite enjoying her seating arrangements, which happened to be on Javier Vachon's lap. The Spaniard accepted additional drinks from the barmaid, and handed one to his petite armful. "Does this beat studying?" he asked politely. "Very much so," Bons replied, while taking a sip from her whisky sour. "Beat the heck out of exorcisms, getting deflated and dealing with family crisis, too. Thanks for the fun moments." "My pleasure," Vachon replied, nuzzling the Scribe's scarfed neck. When Bons flinched, he pulled back and grinned. "Remember? I don't bite . . . yet." "I wasn't really concerned about that," Bons explained quickly. "I just have a very sensitive area back there, kind of a blemish. You understand?" Vachon grinned. "Want to compare scars?" Bonnie opened her mouth to make a comment or protest, but Vachon smothered whatever she had in mind with a full- mouthed kiss. When he released her, the NA Scribe was blinking to rid herself of a rather glazed expression. "It's not Mary Sue, when someone else does it for you," Vachon whispered, hoping to allay the Addict's fears. "I just happened to read ahead, where you stated you wanted to spend time with me." "That was as drinking buddies!" the Scribe finally managed to sputter. Then she lowered her head demurely and said gently, "But this *was* very nice." Then, she noted her bare toes and her voice turned sad. "But, it would have been nicer if you'd taken into account my non-sensible shoe troubles." Vachon stood up quickly, unseating the petite woman, then reseating her in the chair he'd vacated. With a smile and a blown kiss, he walked to the exit, trailed by the Vaquera/os, in various states of disrepair. "Adios, Las Adictas. Hasta next guerra." "That was rather abrupt," Jules commented as she walked up to Bonnie's side. "Kind of like your announcement that you're vacating your post," Bons replied. "And, sticking me with taking care of *everything.* Almost makes one consider becoming a Vaquera." Jules and Bons looked in Patt's direction, taking note once more of the black leather jacket, biker boots and spandex trousers. The Scribe and HP looked at each other. "Nahhhhhh," they shook their heads firmly. Kriel awoke from his slumber and looked around. To his chagrin, Erik was nowhere around, but to his delight, he spotted Christy. And, about the same time, Christy spotted Kriel. "Uh, oh!" Dee and Glennis moved to Christy's side as the hulking foreman walked over. "What now?" Christy looked around and caught sight of Egrus Toga on the bar, hovered over his prone mistress. "Look, a dinosaur!!" the Florida addict shouted. Ivy, Ary, Bram and Glennis all cut and ran for the exit. Kriel, however, was not impressed. He continued advancing until he stood before the mouse-eared Addict, looming above her. "The kilted wonder is gone," Kriel flashed Christy a toothy grin. "I've come for my reward." He caught the Floridian by the shoulders and lifted her up till their eyes were level. "How about a kiss for Papa Bear?" "Meep!" was all Christy could manage. "Look," Dee began gesturing wildly toward the Third Cousin. "A Patt-asaur!!" Well, that got Kriel's attention. Growling, he discarded his true love on the nearest table top and headed after the mature addict. Dee, still thinking quickly, grabbed Christy's hand and pulled her through the trap door into the RatPacker tunnels. Jesse, rather disappointed that she'd not been able to assist Erik by brandishing her light saber, waited for Luke and Sapo to wake up. Luke's eyes flickered first, and Jesse immediately turned the laser beam on. It buzzed nicely, causing Luke to wake up with a start. "This is your destiny," Jesse chortled, waving the sword in the blonde construction worker's face. "What do you think of it?" "Could be worse," Luke replied, glancing once at the still unconscious Sapo. "I could be him." "Ahh, but it *is* worse," KC chuckled evilly, joining the group. "For you see, dear Luke. Sapo *is* your father." Luke screeched and jumped up. He disappeared through the left exit, next stop, East Coast. "Now what?" Jesse asked, touching the light saber to Sapo's nose. "He's out so cold he may never come back. Not much fun." Her voice was thick with disappointment. "How about some more Poobah bashing?" KC suggested. "That was sort of fun." "Ahhh, but Laurie has last editing capacity," Jesse noted. "She might not want to be bashed anymore." "Oh, poopoo on the Poobah," KC pouted. Then she brightened. "I forgot. I have a wonderful farewell finale planned. I don't need to engage in further battle with the Grand High Pitbull; I need to stay fit and fine for my upcoming closing number. I think I'll call this one a wrap." KC headed for the right exit, turned and waved merrily at the remaining troops. "Farewell, my little raisin waffles! I'm headed for bigger and better roles." Then, she vanished to the applause of her minions. "That's it?" Laurie looked around at the depleting crowd in frustration. "That's how this whole thing ends? With a big whimper? I've still got lots of attention to draw to myself! I want *everyone* but me to be totally black and blue! I'm highly disappointed!" The GHP stomped her foot. As she did, she set several things in motion. First of all, she shook loose a segment of the space/time continuum, one that had never ever ever appeared in any previous FK Wars, which resulted in a momentary tear in the known universe. This left in a small hole, allowing an alternate reality to emerge. Still fond of old idioms, what happened next was close to following the saying "raining cats and dogs." However, for plotline purposes, the resulting precipitation was more like, "raining non-sensible shoes." And, down they came. Tons and tons of the things. Heels up to six inches, spikes and stubby; box toes, pointed toes, leather, suede, man-made material; straps and slip-ons. They continued to fall for several minutes, effectively covering the barroom floor. If anyone had been intent on continuing the brawl, all such activity ceased immediately as those still in the bar dove for cover from the invading non-sensible shoes. Only Bons chose to remain standing amid the flood of footwear. Holding a bar tray over her head, the gleeful Scribe danced amid the bouncing booties, singing ala Gene Kelly to the tune of "Singing in the Rain": "I'm kicking up my heels, Just kicking up my heels What a glorious feelin' I'm well-shod again. No loafers for me Won't fit like a glove Oxfords don't look smart And the clogs you can shove. Let the fairies deplete Birkenstocks from my feet Come on with the heels Now I am so complete. I will do cartwheels For my footwear ideals Just kickin' Kickin' up my heels. Clickin' up my heels Dee-ah dee-ah dee-ah Dee-ah dee-ah dee-ah I'm well-shod again! I'm kickin' and clickin' up my heels!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued 11/? patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 29 22:47:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHQh-0000ik-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:44:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1740; Sun, 29 Aug 99 22:41:56 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9839; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:41:56 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:38:08 -0500 Reply-To: "Jesse F." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Jesse F." Subject: WAR: NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 12/12 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 250e0d1bb7630f65b8d52e1108074430 NA+++: A Little Visit to the Local Watering Hole 12/12 by Patt Elmore, with major input by the GHP When: Thursday evening, August 26, 1999 Where: A non-descript bar in an overlooked section of Toronto Everyone used with permission of themselves or their factions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "See, Patt couldn't finish this thing in eleven, much less ten," Laurie complained to LaCroix, from beneath the table the pair had retreated to when the rain of shoe terror had begun. "You need to send her to some classes on tight writing." "I beg to differ," LaCroix replied, giving the GHP a harsh look. "Considering she was writing a story line which involved thirty-eight characters, that roughly comes to using three people-plus an arm per each twelve of the posts. I think she did admirably well." "You're just saying that because she's your Addict," the GHP grumped. "Yes," LaCroix said, a small twinkle in his blue eyes. "She's *my* Addict." "She sure doesn't dress like one. And, don't look now but *your* Addicts may be in mortal danger from one of *your* employees," Laurie pointed out gleefully, watching as Kriel came out from under a table and continued his quest for Patt. With quick precision, LaCroix slipped his fingers into the GHP's pocket and withdrew her envelope of Personal Tranquility Device coupons. He withdrew one of the tickets, returned the envelope to the gaping Poobah, closed his eyes and made a wish. Almost immediately, Laurie's personal evil FanFic Fairy, F. Hugh, *poofed* into existence in front of Kriel. The foreman looked at F. and snarled, "Damn bugs are everywhere!" F. Hugh barked something in Fairyese, and dashed a sprinkle of gold dust into Kriel's face. The foreman's shape shimmered and, in a millisecond, he was standing on the nearly empty dance floor, clad only in a tutu. "We do love to make fashion statements," Laurie said approvingly, then turned on LaCroix. "Hey, what gave you the right to steal one of the PTDs I was hoarding for the next war? Just who do you think you are? A vampire or something?" "The knowledge that if it were not for my Addicts, you wouldn't have the PTDs in the first place, let alone a staring role in the bar fight storyline, gives me the right," LaCroix said smoothly. Laurie started to argue further, but a loud growl drew her attention back to Kriel. The foreman, obviously enraged, snatched F. Hugh out of the sky, stuffed the fairy into his mouth and swallowed hard. To the GHP's horror, all that remained of her evil fairy was a loud *burp* and Kriel's outbreath of gold glitter. "ARGGGGGGGGG!!!" the MercBard cried, preparing to jump out from under the table. LaCroix caught her and pulled her back. "Let this be a lesson, Laurie," the ex-vampire said, his voice full of cautious warning. "When little evil confronts big evil, little evil often gets bitten." The GHP looked at LaCroix, garnered her best *go-to-heck-I-ain't-scared-of-you* bluff face and scrambled out from under the table. "Tell it to your evil little puny Addicts," the MercBard called over her shoulder, intent on a stiff drink to drown her sorrows over losing F. Hugh. LaCroix just offered her a smooth smile. Kriel was about to continue his search for Patt, when LaCroix decided it was time to intervene. He caught the foreman by the shoulder, applying slight, but very firm, hand pressure. "The business of you and your associates at the Shrine is finished," the elder ex-vampire said, handing Kriel a handsome check. "I understand that our . . . affliction isn't present outside the confines of Toronto. I also understand that Nova Scotia is very nice this time of year . . ." Kriel nodded. "I already have a job lined up for my crew in Calgary," the foreman stated. He helped a groggy Sapo to his feet and headed for the door. "If you see Luke or Spark, tell them that we're finally shed of this place." "I will," LaCroix replied pleasantly. Once the ex-vampire construction men exited, LaCroix allowed his eyes to flick toward a small lizard perched on the jukebox. "Oh, I most certainly will." Patt rose up and looked around. "He's gone? It's over?" LaCroix nodded and relief washed over the Third Cousin. She got up, walked behind the bar and helped herself to a much earned Budweiser. Patt looked over to LaCroix and held the bottle aloft, an unspoken inquiry as to whether he cared for one himself. "No," LaCroix shook his head, then smiled. "But, I would like my Rye now." As Patt went round the corner of the bar, beer and Rye in hand, she encountered Kathy and Cindy, their arms loaded. "The bar owner has decided to sell," Kathy explained, as Patt looked quizzically at the stock the FoD carried. "Yeah!" Cindy grinned. "Gave us a terrific deal on slightly damaged merchandise." The FoDs happily exited the little bar, headed back to the Happy Souvlaki. "Well, this was an interesting evening," Cousine Celeste commented as LaCroix walked to her side. "Yes . . . and most invigorating," the General agreed, casting Jules a suggestive look. In turn, the HP pointedly turned her back. "It's amazing how young I feel again. And, that said," he turned back to the Cousine, "isn't it about time you and McLisa returned to CERK, to attend to cousinly business?" "Probably," Celeste agreed, looking around the room. She was suddenly puzzled. "Where is McLisa, by the way?" "Probably on her way home as we speak," LaCroix said smoothly. Celeste nodded and, with a final glance around, headed for the exit. LaCroix, feeling rather smug, headed for his booth. As he walked across the room, a sudden spritzing of sparkling water caught him across the back. Turning in surprise, he found himself facing Tiff. "Is there an explanation for this assault?" the General asked quietly. Tiff shrugged. "Patt said I couldn't hit you with a beer bottle, and suggested I use seltzer," she replied. Then she grinned lasciviously. "You had the *let's get naked* contest at your bar; why not a *wet T-shirt* at this one." "Since I'm not clad in a T-shirt, the point is moot," LaCroix noted. "I understand that you are considering a different faction alliance next war, Ms. Petherbridge. That sounds like a wise choice." He turned on his heel and continued to his chosen sitting place. As he prepared to seat himself, something moved under his table. LaCroix stooped, and found Caren withdrawing herself from the cubby. "I wasn't hiding, really," the Louisiana addict explained as she smoothed her dark hair. "I was just trying to fetch these little guys." She pulled Watson and Fred out from under the table, lifting one dog in each arm. "They're great rat catchers." "And make tasty appetizers," LaCroix commented. Jules ran forward, gave LaCroix a nasty look and snatched Watson from Caren's arms. As the Louisiana woman was also retreating, LaCroix's voice stopped her. "What is that around your neck?" "Just a pendant that a friend gave me," the Addict said, her eyes growing starry. "He was at the C-Day Celebration the other night, and then again at Jenny Schanke's pet party. His name is Mel Gibbers--perhaps you've heard of him? He's a famous action performer." LaCroix thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No . . . I don't associate with actors that much." He extended his hand. "May I see it, please?" Reluctantly, Caren handed LaCroix the element, which he examined and palmed, substituting an impressive, but sterile, copy. Caren, a slightly puzzled look on her face, retrieved Watson from Jules and, carrying the two dogs, disappeared through the trapdoor. "I saw that," the GHP called from the bar. "I see everything, in case you haven't noticed. I see London, I see France . . ." LaCroix shot her a *so-what* look. "It was necessary, as you well know, MercBard. I *had* to have that element." "Like you need this one?" Laurie dangled her own element from her fingers, smiling wickedly. "It would be nice, but not necessary. The wrap up post will drop with or without the participation of you *or* your element," LaCroix replied thickly. "I suspect that piece is *tainted* anyway." Laurie finally gave into temptation and stuck her tongue out at LaCroix. The General raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Laurie," Patt asked with false sweetness, from right behind the Poobah's back. The MercBard, startled, turned to stare at the Addict standing behind her. "Want to tell me about Pectin?" The GHP opened her mouth to comment, but was speechless for once. The Third Cousin lifted her now empty longneck and tilted her head for better aim. Her intent was clear. Those still left in the bar turned to look with interest. Laurie had managed to remain unscarred through 11 and 1/2 posts, but now she was facing off against the author. This could get interesting. Laurie knew exactly where Patt was heading. "HOLD ON A SECOND!!!," she roaredto those watching. "You think you're just going to sneak this in, right at the very end of the story? You can't hit me with a beer bottle!" Annoyed, she turned back toward Patt. "I'm the GHP. I'm not allowed to look foolish or silly in a post. And, I'm certainly not allowed to sustain any bodily injuries." Patt just stood there glaring at her. Laurie's voice became higher. "Paa-aa-aa-tt!! You promised! Besides," she said suddenly, "I'll just edit it out." The Third Cousin had one simple response to that. "Sorry, Laur, I'm posting *this* part myself." She took aim. *THUD* The Grand High Poobah of the Mercenary Guild slid silently to the floor. Suddenly panic stricken, Patt glanced over toward LaCroix. The former vampire's usually stoic face broke out into an approving grin. "By the gods, I wish *I* had done that," he announced to the addict. LaCroix sat down, finally, in his booth. As he held the element, examining it, Egrus Toga rolled up with the pendent formerly possessed by the GHP. LaCroix took it and nodded at the little bot. "O father," Egrus bleeped, quoting a line from Shakespeare's 'A Lover's Complaint,' "what a hell of witchcraft lies in the small orb of one particular tear." "Indeed," LaCroix replied absently, his focus on the elements in his hand. "Indeed." "Is this where they're holding the bar fight?" A black clad biker chick, whom Patt recognized at Tabs, walked in. She carried a stick which she thumped methodically against her hand. "I want in on the action." At that moment, McLisa popped up from behind the bar. She peered around. "I feel like throttling someone," she announced. Spying Tabs now leaning against the bar, McLisa reached up from behind and started strangling the Vaquera. As she did, she kept repeating: "Venting is good for stress. Venting is good for stress." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The end. 12/12 patt79ad@juno.com From - Sun Aug 29 22:52:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHTg-0000na-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:47:25 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2992; Sun, 29 Aug 99 22:45:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0150; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:45:09 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 19:48:15 -0700 Reply-To: J Jaxson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: J Jaxson Subject: WAR: DP GoodBye: Coupe de Grace 1/1 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d0c5bbe8c1c5dc5a57d9179e86ed6cf5 WAR: DP: Coupe de Grace (1/1) Place: DP Mansion Time: Saturday Evening By: JJaxson Sighing June sat at her desk next to the computer. Making entries into her notebook she tried to put into words her thoughts for this war. Things had changed that was for sure. The once vamps had returned to being vamps. The factions had all returned to their prospective forums. Most of the DP's had gone home. Several remained in the house, straightening out last minute details. For the most part the house was quiet. Making last minute arrangements herself, June was writing things down. A leisurely drive south was planned for her return to Phoenix. Driving had always soothed her. Seeing some of the country was an added bonus. Although she was getting sleepy she staid awake. Things need to be done. Logging on to the computer, she went to the site she had previously picked and set about sending flowers, roses in particular to all the factions. Getting a laugh at the thought of some expressions when a DP sent flowers. Maybe next time she would send 'chocolate candy'. It might be interesting to see if anyone thought it was an attack when in fact it would be just a form of thanks. Finally finishing up by sending out postcards she logged off and went over to turn on the bedside lamp. It was time to get some rest. The next few days promised to be peaceful. Then she could head home. After being away from home for so long it would be good to get back. With Halloween just around the corner she had a lot of things to do before then. Already in the future she pulled back the covers and crawled into bed. Reaching to turn out the lights she then settled under the down cover and watched the moon through the windows till she fell into a restful sleep. (Side note) Virtual flowers can be viewed at: Someone's been thinking of you! A Virtual Flower Bouquet(tm) has been created for you by JJaxson, compliments of the Virtual Florist(sm). You can open and view your Virtual Flower Bouquet any time during the next 30 days at the following address: http://www.virtualflorist.com/pickup/?qab2329mqc or 1. Open your web browser (such as Netscape Navigator or Microsoft's Internet Explorer). 2. Surf to the Virtual Florist home page at http://www.virtualflorist.com 3. Click on the 'pick-up' tab in the upper right-hand corner of the Virtual Florist home page. 4. Enter your Virtual Flower Bouquet code: qab2329mqc Nature of a Rose With every rose there is grace, beauty, and elegance. But alas there are thorns that prick. Through the shear grace of life we came together in a war. Through the beauty of friendship we fought for our factions. With the elegance of promise we remain with our cause. Thorns prick our fingers and we laughed in grace. Thorns marred our beauty and we still stood with elegance. For this I give thanks to you for a war well fought. Friends that can still be there. Through thick and thin. Thank you for participating in War 10 and hope to see you again. June (^^)**MS**DP**MN**FKP**ETC... :-P THE BLONDE WITH BRAINS mrms_katz@worldnet.att.net "You're just jealous cause the voices only talk to me!" FK Faction Webring http://moonprincess.net/webring/ FK Backgrounds http://moonprincess.net/backgrounds/ From - Mon Aug 30 06:14:53 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHaI-0000y7-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:54:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3025; Sun, 29 Aug 99 22:52:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0637; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:52:01 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 19:48:29 -0700 Reply-To: Glennis Lyke Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Glennis Lyke Subject: WAR: NA: Hooray for Hollywood To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b4fb49f06e00bfd18355ebab576defd7 Hooray for Hollywood (1/1) By Susan Nix Time: After Conversion Day Place: The same park where KC was abducted last year KC walked despondently through the park, kicking the stray feathers that still littered much of Toronto. She had re-inflated Bons, did a disgustingly good deed, added her own little flair to the Church, liberated a blimp only to have it blow up, gave a great gift to a bride-to-be, and explained her need for world domination. What was left for the addict? "Nothing," she said to herself. "At least last year I went out of the war in an interesting manner. I'll be lucky if I get picked up for jaywalking here." KC wasn't paying much attention to where she was going, wallowing in self-pity and all. She soon slammed into a great bear of a man who took the same route as KC, only coming from the opposite direction. "Oof!" KC said slyly, collapsing to the ground. The stranger immediately picked her up and began apologizing profusely. "Hey, watch the hands!" KC warned when the stranger's hands meandered where they oughtn't while picking feathers off the addict. "I'm so very sorry," he said sheepishly. "I didn't mean " he drifted off and looked intently at the diminutive dominatrix's features. "Say could you turn your head to the left a little?" he asked of KC. She complied, though she was a little confused at the request. "That's exactly the face I'm looking for!" he said, delighted. "Sorry, but I'm using it right now," KC said warily, backing away slowly. "You can visit it on the weekends if you want " The stranger reached inside and pulled out a card, handing it to KC. It read: Steven Terentino Big Shot Director Hollywood, USA KC was quite impressed. "You're a director? Why the interest in me?" "You see, I'm casting a movie about a young female college student bent on taking over the world. And you seem exactly the type I'm looking for! Young, mischievous, evil " Steven replied. "Well, you're right about that, my little tater tot!" KC beamed. "Say you wouldn't be available to come to L.A. right away, would you? I mean, you don't have any obligations here?" KC thought about it for about half a second. "I'm there, compadre!" she said, taking his arm. Together, they walked to his limo waiting outside the park. "By the way, do you have any acting experience?" Steven asked casually. "Well, I was in a high school play, and I took an acting class as a freshman in college," KC replied. "Do I not have enough experience?" Steven laughed. "In L.A., that's as good as studying at Juliard!" Time: A few days later Place: A Hollywood sound stage "I'll get you, vile fiend!" a young unknown actor like KC said dramatically as he shook his fist at the young lady, who was back in the red jumpsuit. "Cut!" Steven yelled from his director's chair. "That's lunch!" The camera team took a break, as did the hair and make-up team and the rest of the crew. Steven walked up to KC and Ben, the actor and KC's film foe/love interest. "That was really great, guys," he said. "I just know this film will do great. The buzz about you is great already!" He pulled out a copy of Variety and showed the headline to KC. It read: "Nix to Fix Pix" "Hm .I knew I'd start dominating the world someday. Why not start with Hollywood?" KC muttered gleefully. "What was that?" Steven said supiciously. "Nothing!" > > The End! > From - Mon Aug 30 06:14:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHcv-00013f-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:56:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1804; Sun, 29 Aug 99 22:52:14 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0671; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:52:14 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:57:03 -0500 Reply-To: Jill Kirby Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jill Kirby Subject: WAR: NP: Salon: Behold! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4b5c295120d86de37ed6e750c1a35bd6 NP: War: Behold! By Maureen Wynn and Jill Kirby with significant help from Sharon Time: some time after "Beauty is in the Eye..." and all the individual NatPack/other Salon posts... *** The coiffed, rubbed, manicured, polished and styled NatPackers were gathered in the lobby of the salon, chattering enthusiastically (or looking almost catatonic with relaxation), while Jill tried to find Dr. Twit. "Dr. Twit?" She checked in the coat closet, throughout the lobby (a tougher task than it sounds, given the sheer number and volume of NatPackers in the lobby), but no luck. She looked around, perfectly manicured hands on her hips in puzzlement. "Where she?" Janet smiled. "Have you looked under the desk? That's where they usually seem to end up. Allegedly." "They?" asked Debra Ann. "The receptionists that we drive insane." Janet said this as if it were a perfectly logical fact, and the NatPackers present accepted it as such. Debra Ann ducked her head under the desk, checking. "Bingo!" A scream reminiscent of bad horror movies emanated from under the desk. "Back! Back! You are Little Albert!" "Last I checked, I was Debra Ann. But this is War, so who the heck knows who I might be tomorrow?" A stream of barely coherent babble spewed from under the desk, causing most of the NatPackers, even the fearless ones (who might also be termed "self-preservationally-challenged"), to back slowly away from the desk. "Gack! There's a clothing psychosis indicative of blue developmental buildings psychosocial maladjustment!" James, although looking extremely relaxed, looked even more confused. "Huh?" Sharon was listening, hard. "Some of the words make sense... but not the context." Dr. Twit's head came up just enough over the counter so that her eyes were staring glassily at the assembled NatPackers. "I see psychopathology as a byproduct of glue! Exclusive use of positive punishment might transpire carpeting, or possibly oriental rugs and shock-induced avoidance flower automobile behavior!" Having reduced two receptionists to hysterics, the NatPack thought they had seen it all. But this was something new, and it reduced them to absolute shocked silence. (Note: this possible, and is not just a vicious rumour. Rare, but possible. The NatPack has been known to be silent for as much as five minutes at a time. This phenomenon been witnessed and documented.) Melissa leaned over and whispered into Debra Ann's ear. "Let's just give her money and get out of here before we start thinking she's making sense." This seemed like a good idea, so much cash was pulled out of pockets, purses, shoes, undergarments (no details needed, because as we all know this is a PG-13 War!), and day planners and tossed onto the desk in front of Dr. Twit, who was brightly conversing with a carnation. "You see," she confided, ignoring the money raining down in front of her, "It's obvious that animal cognitive treatments might involve purple alternate deconstruction of maladaptive paiper-mache personal mythology resulting in videotapes and social phobia..." The British librarian poked his head out from the back and looked puzzled. "Tabitha?" he asked, every cute little syllable infused with that adorable British accent. Maureen immediately started burbling, and Betsy began fanning herself. "Her name is " asked James incredulously. "Tabitha Twit?" "Don't ask," Meg replied. "Let's just go." She scooped up a nicely-trimmed Sidney and headed out. Jill grabbed Maureen's arm. "Say good-bye to the nice man, Maureen." Throwing down a last large bill (the Wartime salon trip was pricey, but no one minded the cost because of the obvious returns) Debra Ann started shooing people towards the door. "Grahthruptybbthhh! Prwad gyrthgyd!" Maureen burbled, turning around to wave to Mr. British Librarian. Walking backward to keep him in sight as long as possible, she was towed out the door by her friends. *** *the blissful end* Jill Kirby ** kirby@enteract.com NatPack ~~ ABotCoS ~~ MFL http://jillkirby.webjump.com George W. Bush says he's a "compassionate conservative." Isn't that like a "vegetarian cannibal?" --Joy Behar From - Mon Aug 30 06:14:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHn0-0001NC-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:07:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2111; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:05:05 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3780; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:05:05 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:08:36 -0500 Reply-To: Jill Kirby Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Jill Kirby Subject: WAR: NP: Hasta la Vista To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8d2a8b76cc1191ce1072e8d523950875 Hasta la Vista By Jill Kirby and the NatPack Time: Late Sunday afternoon Most of the clutter was out of Nat's apartment-- loaded into cars and taxis and minivans, sent via mail (the world's largest bookstore in Toronto, and is a very dangerous place), carted in shoulder bags-- but gone. Natalie could see her floor again. Though it was always good to have one's privacy back, it was also always a little sad. Wars were crazy, but they were fun-- she'd met some wonderful new factions and people in this War, as well as revisiting old friends. Lynn sighed. "I think we've got everything." "My toothbrush!" Kim ran towards the bathroom. "It looks like we're nearly out of your hair." Robyn surveyed the room, looking for forgotten items or pets. "Thanks for putting up with us." Nat slung an arm over her shoulders and squeezed. "No 'putting up' was necessary..." She trailed off as she saw several raised eyebrows from the NatPackers around the room, who could spot her in a lie twenty miles away and blindfolded. "All right. A little. But it was fun, for the most part." "You got to play pictionary with Nick," Judy chirped. Melissa smiled. "And the morgue got trashed..." "And you got kissed by Screed." Jill laughed as Meredith threw a book at her and Lady Angst made choking noises. "Hey, I kinda like Screed." "That's just because you have a thing for bald guys," Maureen yelled out on her way to the kitchen to put leftover takeout food in the fridge for Nat. Meg snorted. "Look who's talking!" "Speaking of Nick..." Debra Ann looked hopeful, as did Judy. Natalie shrugged. "I'm going over to talk to him after all of you guys head home. I just want to see how he's doing now that... Well, now that he's back to his old self." Everyone looked serious at this comment, even Sharon. "At least he had a couple of weeks as a mortal," Betsy said philosophically. "Yeah, but it was Wartime! It's not like he was able to live a 'normal' mortal life," James mumbled, not entirely sure he liked this monster called War. Janet nodded. "What's normal?" asked Tina innocently, and everyone burst out laughing. "When you find out, let me know," smiled Natalie. A half hour worth of hugs later, everyone was gone. Sidney walked around the empty apartment, his tail twitching. Everything was back in order. His human was standing at the window, waving furiously to the mob of people and animals that had finally departed. She was smiling, but he thought there was sadness in her eyes. He could fix that, he thought proudly. There was nothing like a good curl-up-in-her-lap-and-purr to make his human smile. *** kirby@enteract.com http://jillkirby.webjump.com From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LHqP-0000jO-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:10:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2183; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:08:29 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4489; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:08:29 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:10:26 PDT Reply-To: Lisa Harvey Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Harvey Subject: WAR: CotK: Until Next Time (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0a2fe915c446b20934a29ef1cd9de262 WAR: CotK: Until Next Time (01/01) Written by: Margie Hammet, JL Kerr, Anjali, and Lisa Harvey Time: Evening on Sunday, August 29 Where: The Comfy Cottage As Margie packed the last of her things and prepared to head home to Real Life, she realized how hard it was going to be to say good-bye to her CotK friends. In spite of all the worries, she'd had a good time during the War. She'd even gotten to like Mr. Spitz. She shook her head, thinking back to what they'd had to go through to get their piece of the icon away from the llama puppet on Friday afternoon. Morgaine had used her PTD coupon to obtain something that they'd hoped would be equally attractive to the puppet. It had taken quite some time and all of the faction, but they'd achieved their goal. Kyer had informed them that Mr. Spitz didn't like his new gift as much as the icon, but he did think that he looked more like a Star Trek character now. At least she'd been able to keep her appointment with her friend, Eowyn. It had been nice to see her friend and catch up, but more importantly, she'd been able to return the icon to the Knighties where it belonged. There was a knock on the door, and Lisa peeked her head through the half-opened door. "I'm all done, how about you?" "Just about," Margie replied as she motioned for her friend to come in. "Did Kyer leave?" She had said her good-byes to Kyer -- and Mr. Spitz -- before Kyer had finished packing this morning. "Yep. She left to go meet the Inka." She dabbed at her left eye with a tissue. "Are you crying?" "No...well, yeah. As Kyer was about to go, Morgaine yelled 'group hug' and Mr. Spitz kind of shot me in the eye. I was a little teary anyway," Lisa admitted. Margie nodded in understanding. "Everything is cleaned up too. Want me to help you bring this stuff downstairs?" Not waiting for an answer, Lisa picked up a suitcase. "Sure. Thanks." Margie picked up her other bag and took one last look around the room to make sure she hadn't missed anything before following Lisa out the door. ~~~sometime later~~~ Anjali smiled to herself as she packed away her stuff. It had been a good couple of weeks and she had enjoyed meeting her CotK friends, but it was going to be good to get back home. She didn't like staying out of the country for too long. She seemed to miss all the good episodes of Due South whenever she did that. The lightsaber was last to go and she frowned as a shadow loomed over her. She turned to see Morgaine, lightsaber raised in 'ready to kick a**' pose. 'Uh oh' Anjali thought, gripping the handle of her own lightsaber in case self-defense was necessary. "I have come to finish what I started." Morgaine said, seriously. "You'll never take me alive, Maul!!!" Anjali screamed back and jumped up in time to defend herself from Morgaine's first strike. "I'm not being Darth Maul, again!" Morgaine complained, ducking as the plastic weapon's blade sailed toward her head. "Okay fine, *Qui-Gonn*" Anjali replied diving over her bed to avoid another blow dealt by Morgaine and rolling over, this time to avoid her friends feet as she leapt over after her. "What's all that shouting and giggling going on upstairs?" JL asked as she reached the ground floor, coming up from the basement. "It must be Morgaine and Anjali duelling again." Margie told her. "Morgaine!!" Lisa shouted, "Come on! I've put everything into the car!" "Anjali, you'll miss your plane!" Margie called up. There was more crashes and giggling before the two teenagers came racing down the stairs. Anjali grinned widely, seeing everyone in the same room at once and quickly hugged them all and said sincerely, "I'm going to miss you guys." "Me too," agreed Morgaine. Anjali grinned for a few moments more before letting out a squeal as she glanced at the clock on the wall. She was going to be late *again*. One last wave and she was out the door and on the way to the plane back home. Lisa sighed; she'd finally met someone that got places even later than she did. "I hope she doesn't miss her flight." Smiling, Margie replied, "She won't; her flight's actually leaving a half hour later than I told her. I didn't want her to miss it." ~~~much later~~~ Now that the war was over and everyone had departed, JL descended to the basement to coordinate the shutdown and removal of most of the electronic and computer equipment. No point in keeping it here, for by the time there was another war, if ever, everything would be obsolete and need to be replaced anyway. She would spend the next couple of days doing this, before heading for Pearson Airport and home. The End Lisa -- lmharvey@hotmail.com Cousin with Light tendencies/NA/CotK/Valentine/NNPacker/DarkNN http://tatooine.fortunecity.com/darkknight/79 "Complain. Complain. That's all you ever do." -- Lacroix ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LI1U-00014o-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:22:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5241; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:20:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5237; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:20:04 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:24:48 -0600 Reply-To: Kimberly Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Kimberly Subject: WAR: RAVENETTES: Aftermath To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5f6bf9783190565b3447373c15dec25b "Aftermath" Part 1 of 1 takes place at The Raven at the end of the War Janette and Kimberly were busy admiring the antique seed pearl earrings and bracelet Janette had just pulled out of her jewelry box. Soon, it would be dark, and the vampires would be out to play. Janette still was not sleeping the day away yet. She had been busy saying goodbye to her faction members that were leaving. Kimberly helped with the back buttons on Janette's dress as Janette slipped the earrings into her ears. The beautiful lady vampire was most ready to entertain her normal clientele once more. Still, she was glad that a few of her ravenettes were staying in town for a while. Janette and Kimberly walked to the door together, and Janette turned to her and smiled a most radiant smile. "We will have a few more nights of fun, yes, before you leave?" Kimberly was thrilled to see that wicked gleam in her eye. "Most definitely!" Kimberly replied enthusiastically. Together they headed down to the bar area of the Raven, ready to greet the night and the revelers that would soon be arriving. Alexander was at the bar with Miklos and Alma. Janette walked behind the bar, and Miklos held up a bottle of what was obviously a very special vintage to Janette. She nodded to him quickly, and he carefully opened the bottle. Alexander got Kimberly a drink, and the five of them settled in for a small, private celebration before the place got crowded. Alexander was not able to sit back down and start drinking right away, however. For just as soon as he was about to sit back down on his bar stool, Lorna and Leeann came into the Bar. Having had hosting duties perfected from his stay at the Raven, Alex quickly got up and made drinks for the two Ravenettes. The talk went to sight-seeing and shopping and what they all planned to do while they played tourist for a few extra days. The lists of desired activities got quite long and ambitious. Tomorrow, they would have to realistically pare it down a bit. For now, nothing was on the Ravenettes' minds except making the most of an extended stay in Toronto........ End -- Kimberly Ravenettes faction leader, war 10 aol im kimmertom icq #9306895 http://members.tripod.com/LeeAnnP/raven/index.htm http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LI3d-0005dr-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:24:34 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3371; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:22:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5335; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:22:12 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:27:35 -0700 Reply-To: Anne Jensen Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Anne Jensen Subject: WAR: DP/PERK: Tying up a few loose ends (with bright yellow string) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7a13f33ebfa5bf67656fe3d35314c623 WAR: Tying up a few loose ends (with bright yellow string) Place: The DP Mansion Time: Sunday afternoon/evening, August 29th By: Anne Jensen (ajensen@west.net) Anne tucked away the copy of _Miss Nelson Is Missing_ in the library, taking care to pull it out to the precise edge of the shelf. It wouldn't stay there for long, of course, but she could only try. This had been a far too busy war, and between the 300 pans of brownies she'd baked as presents for the other factions last night (or was it two nights ago? she couldn't keep track anymore) and then the "Teletubby" attack and its aftermath, she hadn't had more than five hours of sleep in the last 48--or was it 72?? She'd read to the horrified children for hours just to calm them enough so that they wouldn't have nightmares about their heros (and why couldn't they pick Sesame Street characters for their heros, anyway?) being carved like Christmas geese. (Which was a strange enough image by itself since her family tended to have turkey or roast beef for Christmas dinner.) All she wanted was to lie down on the floor and sleep. But first, there was one thing she had to do. "Tracy?" she asked, coming across her faction's figurehead in the hallways. "Do you have a minute?" Putting down the bucket of dark pink paint she'd been using to help cover up some of the multiple repaintings of the house, Tracy said, "Sure. What's up?" "Not another attack," Anne assurred her. "Just a question that's been bugging me for a while." "Ask away." Pondering how to phrase this the best way, Anne paused. "Do you know what happened to the Perks the war before last? PartlyK and everyone dropped out in the middle of the war and haven't been heard from since." Tracy blew a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Whew. You don't ask the easy questions, do you?" Anne smiled. "The complicated ones are always more fun." "The truth is," Tracy said, over coffee in the kitchen, "I have no idea what happened to them. I wasn't even in Toronto that war." "Oh?" At this point, the coffee was all that was keeping her awake and Anne had no intention of missing out on this explanation. "I was having a lot of trouble putting my life back together after I--died. I'm still not sure what happened to me, then. How I survived those injuries when the hospital declared me dead. And finding out that my partner was a vampire and that neither he, or Vachon, or Nat, or even my own faction, had trusted me enough to tell me felt a little like betrayal." Anne started to pop up with an explanation, but Tracy shook her head. "No, I understand *now*. I probably would have done the same thing myself, but it was something that I had to come to terms with. Counseling wasn't helping--this wasn't the kind of thing I could explain to a therapist, and without knowing the problem, there wasn't much she could do to find a solution. So finally I took off on a camping trip, just by myself, to think everything over. "I came to some hard realizations those couple of weeks. I'd spent far too much time worrying about what others--like my father--thought of me, and not enough time actually enjoying life. I'd almost *died*, and what did I have to show for my life except 'being a good cop'. That's *part* of what I want, but that's not *all* of my life. And I can't blame Nick, or Vachon, or even my father for my own inability to break out of the shell I'd build around myself. "I decided then, that I wasn't going to let anyone--or anything--stop me. Dawkins, the shooting, Nick's being a vampire. I *was* going to get through the emotional haze I'd found myself in, and I wasn't going to take a back seat to life ever again. "That's when I got this." Tracy pulled her shirt away from her shoulder and revealed a tattoo of a phoenix. Seeing Anne wince a little (and knowing the token perky Perk's feelings about actually *getting* tattoos), she laughed. "A lot of the ones since then have been henna, but I wanted to get a phoenix as a permanent reminder that I was going to rise from the ashes of all of my adversities. I see it every morning when I step out of the shower, and, the first couple of days, it was the only thing that got me through the day. But it did get me through those days, and the days after that, and the days after that. It's been a rough ride, but I've learned to cut loose a little more, and actually have a life outside of my job and my family. And that's been more than worth a bit of colored skin." She slipped her shirt back over the shoulder. "Getting back to your question, though. When I came back after my camping trip, I found out there had been a war, but no one could tell me what happened to the Perks. I'm just as clueless about what happened to them as you." Anne was still thinking about it as she packed her things and prepared to go home. She hadn't had a chance to get behind that mysterious brick wall this war, but maybe next time... Anne Jensen ajensen@west.net Perk, DP, NNP, T+Vpack PS. Seriously--brownies for everyone! From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LI4A-00017g-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:25:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5250; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:22:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5374; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:22:51 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:25:19 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: NA/CGW/UF: Step We Gaily, On We Go... To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3d374ed8cc2e99aeaed1b5f6a2425c96 WAR: NA/CGW/UF: Step We Gaily, On We Go... (1) by Brenda Bell Follows: "'Dunbar' Wallace" Strikes Again MacHeather, Chris, Lucius, Brenda, Pen, Lora, and Megan are real and are used by permission. The Atlanteans are a fictional contemporary-Celtic band. Any similarity to any real band or band members is purely coincidental. The rest of the Fiendish Glow staff, as well as FG "regulars" Kerrigan and Father Andrew, are fictional and belong to the Fiendish Glow (Celtic Glow Worms and Tequila Fiends). ********************** The Fiendish Glow, Saturday 28 August, about 2000 or perhaps a wee bit later "There." Pen finished pulling the last banner from the printer just as Brenda finished the last call to the other factions. As is typical for War, some were in, some were not, and it was hard to tell with the others. While the celebration was last-minute, she hoped that at least Heather's sister NA members (and those Glow Worms Warring with other factions) would attend. In the background, the Atlanteans played some traditional fiddle tunes while table and chairs were re-righted and the wait staff brought the next round out to the amused patrons. As the two women stepped back out of the office, they met a familiar pair of faces. "Lora! Megan!" they chimed, rushing to greet the UFfish Glow Worm and her UFfish friend. "Glad you could make it!" "What happened? Lora asked. "Weren't they supposed to tie the knot in Texas, what was it, next week or the following?" "We don't know," Pen told them. "What'll you be having?" "Atholl Brose(2)," Megan said, anxious to try another honey-inspired alcoholic creation. "Preferably something that *won't* kill rats," she added, remembering MacHeather's attempt at making the brew. "Killian's Red," Lora told her. "I intend to party 'til the ravens fly home... preferably somewhere *out* of town!" The women chuckled, having read of the exploits of Janette's male adorer. "There've been tons of them in New Jersey," Brenda told them. "Not counting the logo'd stuff we got the last time we were down to Virginia Beach.(3)" "Hmm... that's an interesting business idea. Fiendish Glow logowear," Pen said -- as if she'd never had the idea before. She'd been thinking about expanding the line beyond a handful of T-shirt designs -- several of which were restricted to staff use. She got an evil twinkle in her eye. "What do you think about a 'Fiendish Glow'-logoed hip flask?" she asked as Siobhan came around with the drinks. "Only if 't's bullet-proof," a familiar Irish voice whispered in Lora's ear. She turned around and glared at the bouncer... for over a *year*, she'd been trying to ward him off... and for over a year, he still pursued her. She growled as her only response. "Ronnie -- quit bothering Lora," Pen scolded. "Uy'm no' botherin' the lass, just tellin' her how lovely she looked o' the evenin," the redhead smiled. Lora rose from the table. "Liar!" she growled. "Ye know you're lovely when you're mad," he leered. "That's it!" she growled, moving her chair back into the bouncer's torso. Eyes wide, he crumpled over in pain. "Scots' attire is ae mair useful i' tha' respect," a voice came from the back. "Lora? Megan?" the accompanying voice cried. Spying two more of her friends, she ran to them, hugging them and exclaiming, "I'm sae happy tae see ye!" "What happened?" Lora asked. "Why'd the date get moved up?" Heather looked back at Chris, who hung his head sheepishly. "It's a long story," she said. "We have all night," Megan added hopefully. "Before you two sit down," Pen said, "now that you're properly cleaned and dressed..." She crossed to the stage and said a few words to the leader of the band. At the end of the number, the band members put down their instruments, and the kilted bodran player addressed the audience. "Laidies, Gentlemen, lads an' lassies," he said. "The Management o' the Fiendish Glow wud luyke ye all to hailp celebrate the mairrage o' their manager, MacCousin Haither, tae 'er sweetie, Chris Doonburr... Fer the rest o' this e'enin', everythin's on the 'oose. Ait, drink, an' be mairry! An' drink tae th' hailth o' Chris an' MacHaither!" At a signal from the leader, the band picked up their instruments and began to play "Hielan Lassie". At the nudging of the Glow Worms, the newlyweds took to the dance floor in the slow, deliberate shuffling of non-dancers unaware of the most basic box-step. As is typical of most weddings, anybody who noticed this deliberately failed to bring it to anybody else's attention, choosing instead to cheer, leer, toast, and bang spoons against glasses until the newlyweds were forced to kiss just to quiet the crowd. ************* At the table by the door, two men remarked the celebration under weigh. "You dinna," Kerrigan said. It was more a question than a statement. "Aye, Uy did," the former cleric admitted. "I's no' as if Uy ever renoanced muy vows," he said. "But the provincial authorities?" "Doan wairry," Father Andrew told him. "I have it on very guid authority that it will all woard oat in the aind." ************* "There's maire o' the Glow Worms here ye need tae meet," MacHeather -- now sporting a MacDuff plaide that clashed horribly with her MacIntyre glow -- told the impeccably kilted man squiring her around. "Not tae mention the rest o' the Addicts." "The *addicts*," Chris muttered under his breath, vague memories of the past week floating unanchored somewhere in his brain cage, while his new wife dragged him over to a table where three women were sitting, still agape at the turn of events. "Glennis!" the CiP squeaked. "Christy! Dee! Sairy I am t've missed ye this waik. This is my husband, Chris." The reluctant peacock bowed graciously and kissed each woman on the back of her hand. "Felicitations," they wished her. ****************** An hour or so later, Pen decided she'd waited enough -- and if the scuttlebutt on the Internet was right, they'd have enough of a crowd control problem at midnight -- so she walked up to the lead singer, whispered a few words, exchanged a few nods, and grabbed a spare mike. The band started up the familiar strains of Enya's "Athair ar Neamh"(4). "This is for MacHaither an' Chris," the singer said as Pen's ethereal voice began to fill the room. After the first stanza, the rest of the Atlanteans came in one by one, until by the end of the song, the room had the hush of a cathedral upon it, and MacHeather had tears in her eyes. When everyone had recovered enough to speak again, toasts to the couple rang through the pub, and the band picked up into a series of lively Scottish reels. Everyone who could, joined each other on the dance floor, while those who couldn't clapped their hands, stomped their feet, or banged their flatware to the rollicking music. The ceilidh was well under weigh. ************************ NOTES: ********************* (1) This is the opening phrase to the traditional song, "Mairi's Wedding". It's a lively piece in which the whole town gathers for the wedding of "our darlin' Mairi" and wishes her all sorts of good fortunes. (2) You can buy bottled Atholl Brose. Dunkeld, and Gordon & MacPhail, both bottle Atholl Brose for worldwide distribution. These -- unlike MacHeather's concoction -- are safe to drink in usual moderation. (3) There is a real restaurant in Virginia Beach called "The Raven"; it has been around long before FK, and possibly even before Janette created or took over the fictional Raven. They sell lots of logowear -- some of it even online. If you're interested, check out http://www.theraven.com (4) As a licensed establishment providing live, recorded, and karaoke music, the fictional pub/cantina "The Fiendish Glow" has the appropriate SOCAN (http://www.socan.ca/ ) blanket licenses along with its Department of Health and provincial alcohol commission certificates. The blanket license means we can play any recording or perform any song for which SOCAN manages royalty distributions. I can't find any info that specifically says that SOCAN agents copyright/IP management for other umbrella organizations (such as ASCAP http://www.ascap.com and BMI http://www.bmi.com -- the two largest such organizations in the US -- or their counterparts abroard), so we may have other blanket licenses as well. In addition, the musicians hired to perform at The Fiendish Glow probably have specific licenses to perform the work of other artists as required. This doesn't mean that we have licenses to reprint music or lyrics, or that the writers of this fanfic have licenses in real life. Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LI4C-0005f1-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:25:09 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2236; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:22:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5391; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:22:52 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:26:48 -0400 Reply-To: Susan Bennett Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Susan Bennett Subject: WAR: N&NPack - Curtain Closing To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4cbe0abf9b3ce280ddbb136ce6cc3a8c WAR: N&NPack - Curtain Closing by Susan B. & N&NPack Time: Sunday, Aug. 29, 11:30 PM Place: N&NPack Theatre - - - - Soulseeker sat in her office tidying up her own desk while the rest of the Nick&Natpackers were gathering in the auditorium, having finished their own cleaning and packing. The last few days had been an emotional roller-coaster for her, for all of them really. The events surrounding Nick, the events that had unfolded within her own faction, and spending three consecutive weekends involved in the War had drained everyone. It wasn't easy to pull together a group of people with such different visions for Nick and Nat to a common cause, but she also realized that through diversity comes strength. Even after movies and chocolate, some of her faction members were still a little morose, but she had a final gift to present to her troops that would lift everyone's spirits, albeit in opposite ways. Knowing the time had come to present that gift, she picked up her list of names and headed for the theatre. Soul walked up onto the stage. "Okay, everyone!" she said. "I'm going to call out some names. Everyone whose name I call, I want you to stand up." She started rhyming off the names, "Carrie, Michelle, Cheryl, Mary, Susan..." until a crowd stood. She glanced at them, "I want you all to say your goodbyes to those remaining in their seats and then head down into the secluded room. You will wait there for further instructions." Somewhat perplexed, but not about to question their leader's motives, they did as they were told. Soul waited for a few minutes until the last named person was safely out of earshot. "Okay, Tammy, Casey, and the rest of you. I know some of you still have mixed feelings about Nick and Nat's situation, but I also know there is a common link among you. I want everyone to leave this War feeling *good* and so I am presenting to you, the Addicts among us, this..." Soul quickly drew the theatre curtains closed for the first generally known time since the War started. Draped across them was the infamous tapestry, Lucius in Repose'. "It's a mutiliated fake!" Casey shouted out in horror. "Look! There's something hanging from his nose!" "It's not a fake!" Marci exclaimed. "That's Amanda's cat, Sammy, clinging to the tapestry!" Monique, famed among the Pack for rescuing animals in need, quickly raced up onto the stage. "My God! That poor thing must have been hanging there ever since the Ravenette attack. Amanda told me that her cat had a phobia about big black birds." Monique gently tugged at the heavy red curtain until she was in a position to rescue the cat. "Poor little thing," she whispered. "Get out of the way, girl!" Casey shouted at Monique who was blocking the view. "I don't want to miss an inch!" Monique instantly complied, and carried the cat back with her to her seat. Soulseeker looked at her watch. "You have ten minutes to enjoy this," she said, "and afterwards I want you gone. And I want your word - none of this is ever mentioned to those I sent downstairs. They just wouldn't... understand." The audience eagerly swore their agreement, and among sighs and whispers of "he's all ours," Soulseeker left them to bask in their ten minutes of glory. In the meantime, on their way towards the secret room, Carrie discovered a small box and a bouquet of roses had been left just inside the Lobby. She quickly opened it and peeked inside. "Mmmm... looks like the DP's sent us a gift... chocolate/java brownies. We'll take them downstairs with us." "The DP sent us roses?" Mary asked. Once settled in the secret room, the group enjoyed the brownies while discussing what might be going on upstairs. "Why were we sent down here?" Mary wondered aloud. "What's the common thread?" Her eyes suddenly wandered over to two cloth covered notebooks that were sitting over in a corner. "And what are they?" Susan walked over to retrieve the books. "Oh, I'd forgotten about these," she said. "We can take our minds off Nick and Nat's predicament by humbling one of Nick's new vampires -- LaCroix. It's one of my favourite pastimes anyway." She opened one of the books and displayed it to the others. It was full of scribbled lines. "I've been compiling a list of LaCroix's best speeches," she said, "only to discover that the ideas, not to mention the words, were either stolen from the works of famous writers or involved the retelling of tales passed down through the generations." Carrie cast her a strange look. "What are you trying to say? He lacks originality? He can't come up with his own metaphors when it truly matters?" "Look what happens when he tries," Susan replied eagerly. She opened the second book and started to recite the only line therein, "Life is a gift. As sweet as the ripest ... scratch that... freshest peach." The door suddenly flung open and Soulseeker appeared. "You can come up now," she said. "I have a surprise for you." She led the group upstairs into the now empty auditorium. "What are these for?" Mary asked as Soul started passing out bucketfuls of darts. "Some fun!" Soul replied, "but you must swear never to tell any of the others." After passing out all of the darts, Soul made her way up to the stage for the second curtain closing. The crowd was hyped up from the brownies, and the darts had started flying before she even finished. "Whoa!" Soul screamed as she dodged another one, "let me get down from here here first!" "What's *he* doing in *our* theatre!" Michelle yelled as she tossed off another volley, surprised at how good that simple action felt. "I wish I had a basket of rotten peaches!" Carrie cried out joyously. Soul was immediately at her side to fulfil her request. Soulseeker watched the rest of her people have their ten minutes of fun. The whoops and cries of joy elated her. "Yes you can please all of the people," she muttered, "as long as you do it at different times." When the ten minutes were up, she and Susan said their goodbyes to everyone and were left alone in the theatre. "That was great!" Susan said to Soul. "A real pick-me-up! Thank you!" Soul winked. "I thought you would like it," she said. The two of them stood staring at the tapestry, now barely recognizable. "There's just one problem though," Susan commented. "I don't think I can go home knowing *he's* still here. I'd never be able to sleep nights." "Neither would I," Soul agreed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a golden ticket. "That's what this is for." "You're going to redeem the PTD?" Soul looked at her watch. "We still have time." She held the ticket up before her and exercised her option. "I wish for the fanfic fairies to spotlessly clean and then re-weave this tapestry into something more suitable. A larger than life image of Nick kissing Nat in front of the fireplace just as in NiQ. And emblazoned across the bottom, I want the words In Love and Faith There is Forever'." And as it was wished for, so was it done. -- The End -- Susan B. freestyle@idirect.com "That which you know, you ignore because it is inconvenient. That which you do not know, you invent." (Delenn, B5, TDoFS) From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LI6B-0005il-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:27:11 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2248; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:24:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5543; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:24:53 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:26:50 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR: Nothers/Mercs: A Nother War Over (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 28db7898f9e1430087beb058ee5a1457 Title: A Nother War Over (01/01) By: Liz and NightDancer Date: Sunday, August 29, 12:00 noon Place: Le Chateau des Autres Disclaimers: All Nothers used by permission of themselves, Daf and Harry belong to the faction, and Katya appears by permission of Kat. Liz opened the door and ran outside, going over to the picnic blanket and flopping down on it. "Hey everyone, did you hear? The vamps are vamps again." "Really?" a disembodied voice asked a little worriedly. "Is that good or bad?" "Good," Dancer answered blithely over the lip of her IBC Root Beer bottle, ignoring the voice's lack of origin. "It means the War is over and we can all get some rest." "Hi Harry," Liz greeted the invisible magician. Fleurette tore off a piece of her sandwich and handed it to Rosie, one of the ducks who had come over to investigate from their new home in the pond. "Still invisible, I see," Liz remarked. "Yes," the voice admitted. "I still can't reverse it." "Oh," Liz said. "Why not?" "I don't know--I just haven't succeeded yet," the magician admitted. "You can have some of my ectoplasm," Katya offered. "I haven't used any of it yet." "Liz, haven't you gotten rid of her yet?" Kat asked. "Nope," Liz/Katya answered. "We like it here." "I could take care of that for you, if you like, Liz," Elladara offered. "Why?" Liz asked. "She's nice." The other Nother shrugged, a dubious expression on her face. "All right." "And it's not like I'm forcing Liz to host me," Katya added. "If she wants me to leave, I will. But it's nice having a body sometimes." Dancer stretched out on the grass with a smile. "Why would she do that? Her best known character is possessed, why wouldn't she want to be?" "Exactly. It's research," Liz agreed, grinning. "Speaking of Elaine," Kat began. "If the War's over...." "We can bring the clones back!" Dancer exclaimed sitting up again. "Oh, good! And the crossothers too!" "Party time!" Fleurette agreed. Kat and Liz looked at each other. "Party! Party! Party!" Liz began. "Toga! Toga! Toga!" Kat continued. "Oh, no, do NOT go there!" Dancer cried. (Too late.) "Orgy! Orgy! Orgy!" Liz finished. "Not in a PG-13 War," Kat scolded. They all laughed. "But the War's over," Liz pouted. "I wanna write smut!" "One more day won't kill you," Dancer admonished with a grin. Liz stuck her tongue out at Dancer. "What are you doing that for?" the other girl retorted. "I'm not the one who threatens to catch it." "Never hurts to try," Liz teased. "Kat, you finished with lunch yet?" "Almost. Why?" Kat answered. "I thought we could go down to the cellar and let everyone in," Liz shrugged. "Oooh, can I come?" Dancer asked, her eyes lighting up eagerly. "Of course." Kat swallowed the last bite of food. "The more the merrier." Dancer grinned wickedly. "That's what you told me when I asked for twenty clones in the first place." Daf frowned and for once went unnoticed. Darn, the competition was moving back in. He wouldn't have the three of them all to himself anymore. The three girls scrambled to their feet, Fleurette watching and shaking her head with an amused smile. "I hope they didn't get in too much trouble." "This is Richie, what do you think?" Liz said. "And Mulder and Scully," Dancer added, "Not to mention Chance!" "So trouble is inevitable," Fleurette admitted. The four looked at each other, then ran to the cellar. THE END ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:03 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LI6v-0005jw-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:27:57 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3389; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:25:04 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5567; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:25:04 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:21:03 -0500 Reply-To: Lisa Luksus Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Luksus Subject: WAR: CUZ: Alone at last! To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e5cb59701bf010691c57d763ad2a5df6 Alone at last! by Cousin Tok Time: very late Sunday evening (8/29), after most people are gone Place: CERK Tok sighed in relief -- another War over and done with. She looked at her crumpled and wrinkled PTD coupon, smoothing it out on the dresser. Then she looked at the catalog again, finally knowing what she wanted and needed. "I just hope this thing hasn't expired yet," she told the Cousinly kitties. Addressing the air, she said, "I want ... no, I *need* ... THIS!" Her index finger pointed at her choice on the peanut butter stained page in the bath accessories and supplies section. <***POOF!***> Moments later, a bathrobe-clad Tok padded into the bathroom. Over her shoulder was a soft, fluffy towel. In her robe pocket was the latest Nora Roberts novel. Clutched in her arms was the large economy sized bottle of Tranquility-Enhancing, Serenity-Restoring, Super-Duper Aromatherapeutic Bath Salts. "Thanks, Bons!" she said as she closed and locked the door. -*FIN*- Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LI9U-0005qC-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:30:37 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2272; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:28:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5769; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:27:57 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:31:26 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: The Knighties Depart (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 99451f0fae72b61433d20ceb38b155ea WAR: The Knighties Depart (1/2) by the Knighties compiled by Sandra Gray Everyone used with permission. ******* by Chris Forward Chris, the Knight Nurse, awoke early for a change. She looked over the loft, at the other Knighties already tidying up and packing. Her eyes were swollen still from the events of the past few days. Slowly she sat up, feeling exhausted, more so than from any other war. She gathered up her medical bag and stuffed the few clothes she had brought into a bag and stood up. She walked over to Nick, took his hands, now cold, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "War can be hell, you know honey. At least you didn't have to go through it alone." And with that, she gave a wave and slipped out the door. She hated good-byes. ******* by Katrinka Like all good things, this war had came to an end. This had been a fun war. Katrinka thought. She had spent her entire visit to Toronto creating mayhem in the kitchen. Nick had greedly gobbled it up. She wondered if the vampire would be able to loose the weight he had gained. Seeing Nick actually enjoying his humanity and food was a gift Katrinka would never forget. Perhaps someday Nick would become mortal again. She was grateful for Nick sending on all those things she had bought at the teacher's store. He had assured her that they would be there when she got home. THere was only one thing. Katrinka hated saying good-bye. She had this bad habit of crying unstoppable at goodbyes, so she advoided them. She waited until everyone was occupied with other things. then she gave one last look at the loft, and sliped out. In the lower level, Katrinka went near the door. "Are you leaving Kat?" Katrinka turned to the voice. "It's time, isn't it?" Nick walked out of the shadows. "You can't just run off without saying goodbye!" "I'm bad at leaving." She admitted. "I cry. I *hate* crying." "It only means your human." Nick grabbed her hand. "Tell you what, I'll come with you." Tears stung at Katrinka's eyes. She turned, as tears began to fall. Nick gave her a handkercheif, and took her upstairs. "How did you expect to go home?" Nick asked. "I thought I would take a bus?" Nick's Six looked a tad peeved at Katrinka leaving. Adriana crossed her arms and glared at Katrinka. "After all we went through, how could you run out on us?" "I couldn't say goodbye!" she admitted. "Don't be too hard on her. I understand how she was feeling. I did the same thing too, many times." Nick told Adriana. Stephers on the other hand walked up to the crying Knightie. "We'll miss you." Katrinka looked at Zoe, Gemsong, and Mindy. "I'm sorry I got you arrested." "That was a week ago!" Mindy said. "It wasn't your fault! It was mine, I am the one that attacked the cop!" Zoe said. "Big huggie!" Nick said. The seven people moved close into a large hug. When they where finished, Nick called for a cab for Katrinka. When the cab arrived, he gave her a large hug, and a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for showing me the pleasures of food. It's something I will miss." "You'll get eat again!" She vowed. "I know you will!" "I hope so." Nick smiled sadly. The cab driver honked. "YOu better go!" Katrinka went to the cab, by the time she got there, Nick had closed the door to the sun. ******* by Stephers Jordan Stephers is getting ready to leave. She has packed up her things and is about to leave. All of a sudden she realizes she hasn't written in her journal in over two weeks. Dear QuangyJane, Ive spent the 2 weeks doing things no normal 17 yr old would do. I ve gotten arrested, gone to a party full of drunken "singers" fought with birds and tripped a lot. Ok I know that's all normal for me. Hehe very funny but I ve also made a lot of new and wonderful friends. And I finally met Nick >:) heh They wait was definetly worth it! Anyhow I have to go now, I m on my way back home. So I ll write again later. (I hope I get to do this again) Love Stephanie As she closes the blue spiral book she looks around at all of the people she will be leaving behind. All who have made the last few weeks work!(literally) . So instead of saying good bye she leaves them each a tape she had made the pervious night. It was a full recollection of the past two weeks events and her thoughts on it. As she gave them to each knightie she gave them all hugs and promises to call when she got in. She then saw Nick. Another she didn't want to say goodbye to. But she got up the nerve and just went over and gave him a heartfelt hug. She then picekd up her suitcase and walked through the elevator door. ******* War: Knighties: And To All A Good Knight Date: August29th Time: as the war ends Author: Knightie Gemsong Gemsong surveyed the loft. There was much activity at the moment. Knighties everywhere, packing up and preparing to leave. Most seemed melancholy, Gem knew she was as well. This war had seemed so cruel at times, much hardship and bitterness were endured by all involved. The worst of all was the Knighties beloved vampire. To have finally achieved mortality, only to have it snatched away, it seemed a horrible joke. Gem felt the tears well up in her eyes and brushed them and the disturbing thoughts aside. True to her favorite movie, GWTW, she would think about it tomorrow. Spying her new friend Mindy across the room, Gem went over to her. "I can't believe it's really over," she said and Mindy agreed. They both promised to keep in touch and then hugged good-bye. There would be no bouncing on this day. Gem took one last look around, to be sure she hadn't forgotten anything, then headed for the door. Looking back across the loft, she saw Nick off in a corner by himself. "I can't leave without saying good-bye," she thought to herself. She approached him with some caution. "Nick," she said softly, "I came to say good-bye; and I want you to know how special these two weeks have been for me, thank you." She hugged him gently as he was lost in thought and not answering her. He gave her a quick hug and kissed her cheek. She again made her way across the loft to the door and the waiting taxi below. ******* by Sandra Gray In her quiet corner of the loft, Sandra finished packing the last of her clothing and zipped up her suitcase. She had said goodbyes to her fellow Knighties and reiterated apologies to those Knighties she had been sharp with during her stay at the loft. Now it was time to go again. She wondered if she would ever be able to come back. Seeing Nick mortal, seeing it taken away again... Her eyes filled with tears. "Sandra?" he said. Sandra blinked rapidly and brushed away the moisture on her cheek. She pushed up her glasses and looked at Nick. "Thank you for being here." His gaze was serious. "I know what a sacrifice it was for you to stay." Sandra was surprised, then remembered his earlier comment of making it a point to know about his Knighties. "He understands," she replied. "You're lucky to have someone who understands," he said. "So are you," she said. Nick's brow creased. "Goodbye, Nick. Take care of yourself." "Goodbye, Sandra." Sandra picked up her suitcase and headed for the elevator and home. Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net ******* Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:04 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIBa-0004pK-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:32:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2287; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:30:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6016; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:30:22 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:33:54 -0400 Reply-To: Sandra Gray Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: The Knighties Depart (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d8e872f6877d5030788ed0ee8fdc620a WAR: The Knighties Depart (2/2) by the Knighties compiled by Sandra Gray Everyone used with permission. ******* War: Knighties: Good-byes Are Not Forever Date: August29th Time: as the war ends Author: Knightie Mindy ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mindy watched as the Knighties busied themselves, packing, cleaning up the war zone that is Nick's loft. It was so hard to believe the war was over. As she sat reminiscing, Gem spied her and came over. They'd become good friends during this war. She couldn't believe that war was really over either. With a promise to keep in touch and hugs, they'd said good-bye. Mindy returned to her seat against a wall and watched as Gem approached Nick, to say good-bye. A smile curved her lips as she remembered the party, and Nick getting sloshed, the lightening fast exit, and putting Nick to bed. The smile broadened as she recalled Gem's B-day, and dyeing Chris's hair. "Club Red," she giggled. And then there was the infamous 'Nick's Six'. That was something the'd all have to add to their sig files. Yes, she thought, this was the most fun she'd had in quite a while. She'd watched several other Knighties say their bit to Nick, now, it was her turn, she decided. With a sigh she got up and approached Nick. "Nick?" She paused until he looked up at her from his perch on the floor. She knelt down so that she was eye to eye. "I couldn't go without saying bye." He smiled weakly at the Knightie, who'd gotten herself in much trouble, but proved her heart with the speech she'd given him as he'd pondered suicide. "Promise to stay out of trouble?" Mindy simply donned 'innocent puppy' smile #143. "Me?? I don't know what trouble is." "You really have that down all too well." Nick laughed. That was her goal...Nick needed to laugh, this war had been so hard on him. "I learned it by watching you." Mindy quipped. She leaned forward and hugged him, and received a kiss on the forehead. Eyes shining with unshed tears, she whispered, "I have to go." With that she stood and took a few steps, then paused, turned and smiled. "Never give up Nick, never give up." And with that she grabbed her luggage and exited the loft. She knew she'd be back someday, readied for the forces of War. _end_ ******* by Eowyn Nick was sitting at the kitchen table. His shoulders slumped a little. The worries and cares of the last week seemed to have added a line or two to the handsome face. Eowyn walked up behind him and put her arms around him for a hug. She just as quickly removed them, remembering that he was once again a vampire and the proximity of humans was uncomfortable for him. She moved to face him. "Nick, you made the right decision to reassemble the staff. You have to know that." "Yeah, I know but I don't have to like it." He stood up and took her hands in his. "You're leaving then?" "My plane leaves in a couple hours. The taxi will be here soon." Nick bent to kiss her. "Thank you for being here," he whispered in her ear. "Always Nick, I will always be here anytime you need me." "Gem liked her birthday party and so did I. I never had a birthday party when I was small. You helped me feel young again." Eowyn looked at him and saw a smile creep over his face. The twinkle in his eye was beginning to return. As usual she felt like she would melt into a puddle when she saw that smile. "I have to go before this gets too mushy." "Good-bye." She heard the honk of a horn that signaled her taxi was waiting and left, knowing her favorite vampire would be all right. ******* By Nancy Taylor Time: Sun., Aug. 29 Place: The Loft Nancy and Vickie packed their bags and prepared to leave. This war had not gone as they had hoped. They had been elated for Nick when they first arrived and found he had gained his coveted mortality. Now he was a vampire again. The road had not been an easy one. Nick stood in the center of the room, watching the maelstrom as Knighties gathered up, packed and said their good-byes to each other. Nancy walked over and flung her arms around his shoulders. Surprised by her uncharacteristic display of affection, he wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'm so sorry, Nick," she began, tears welling in her eyes as she looked into that immortally young face. "I never wanted to see you hurt like that. It was a cruel thing, and unfair." Nick sighed and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "But I did enjoy the time I had," he said, smiling softly at her. "Yeah, it was kind of fun seeing you trying all those different foods. The feast the Unnamed Faction brought in was terrific!" Nick's eyes took on a wistful glow. "Yes, that's something to remember for the next 800 years." "Don't say that, Nick," Vickie walked up to stand beside her friend. "You were mortal for two weeks. If you could do that, there's bound to be another cure out there...without the side effects of this one!" "Whatever you do, Nick, never give up. Never stop looking," Nancy pleaded. He wrapped them both in his arms, drawing Vickie into the group hug. "With supporters like you two and the rest of the Knighties, how could I ever consider giving up?" Another small smile graced his lips. Vickie thought she had never seen anything so precious. It had been a *very* rough war. Nick had gone through hell, but he was back. A bit battered, perhaps--beaten, but not defeated. There was something immeasurably Heroic about this man, this vampire. He leaned in to give each woman a parting kiss. "Until we meet again," he whispered to them. "Take care, Nick. We'll miss you." The two Knighties reluctantly picked up their suitcases and headed for the elevator...and home. ~fin~ Nancy A. Taylor War 10 -- Knightie Co-Leader ******* Story Name: Bittersweet Afterthoughts Author: Zoe Time/Date: Sunday, August 29th Place: Airborne over Toronto >From her comfortable window seat, she gazed at the tiny metropolis below. It almost seemed foreign, a concept left best to dreams. Her lips curled into a slight smile. But it wasn't a dream - it wasn't an alien notion. All of it was real, all too real. The grueling two weeks had finally come to a close. The war was fought and the battles won. Zoe had survived her first war, and her uneasiness was now replaced with love and friendship from those she now called friend. She shifted slightly in her seat, her green eyes moving to face the front of the airborne vehicle. Battles won. She sighed and shook her head. What battles had be won? Nick had been returned to his previous immortal state, as well as the rest of his kind in the Greater Toronto area. But was it really a victory? Perhaps for some. But for Zoe it was bittersweet. She *was* a Dark Knightie, and the thought of Nick returning to his seductive vampire nature would eventually enchant her once again. But right now, it was a hard idea to put an emotion to. She had seen the rays of the sun glint on his hair, she had heard his laughter, and was captivated by his smiles, all because he had finally attained that which had eluded him for centuries. The mortality that, only a few short hours ago, had been taken from him - ripped once again from his grasp when his own hands had reassembled the staff. She knew deep down that the reasons were just, albeit far from fair. But, Nick was still around, his hand did not take his own life. (I *would* have mourned, Nick, I would have grieved with everyone else. I lied.) There would come another time when he would walk beneath the sun, she knew it. Zoe let out another sigh, pushing the melancholy memories of Nick's tragedy back into her brain. Her thoughts lingered on happier memories. Ones with her new found friends, her war-mates, her sisters. She smiled once again. She had learned many things. Some hard lessons, but also some good ones. All of them important. She leaned back, and shut her eyes. Home. In five hours she would once again enter her mundane existence, her quiet life in the city of Calgary. But she would always be changed because of her Knighties, and the blonde vampire with the boyish smile and azure eyes. Zoe begn to drift into sleep, with thoughts of cookies and ravens danced in her mind. (Maybe I'll take a cooking course, or paint a piece about the Knighties, or maybe learn about ham radios, or, lilies, or.........) And she slept. ~Fin~ ******* Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIHy-00066e-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:39:23 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5378; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:37:07 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6942; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:37:07 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:38:26 EDT Reply-To: Nsvestal@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Lisa Clevenger Subject: WAR:NA/CGW-Ticket to Ride To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7873463a940e1d60715e24c2df8893d4 NA/CGW-Ticket to Ride By Sukh Tuesday, August 24th During MacCousin's Kidnapping/C-Day stuff With help from MacCousin and Brenda All Buff Slave Boys and creatures real and stuffed used with permission ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Is that tight enough Lady?" Roy asked as he tied off the cording of the leather corset. Sukh patted the Victorian style leather corset. "Yep," She breathed as she took shallow breaths. Old fashioned dress was a showstopper, all in black leather, with a red leather ruffle border of the apron of the skirt, the small bustle and the sleeves. She had a riding hat with a black net veil to hide her red blonde hair and riding gloves on. Roy was dressed in snug beige breeches, a high gloss pair of knee boots, white shirt, an elaborately tied caravat and black cutaway coat. "MacHeather said she'd meet us down at the party." She took Roy's offered arm and went to join the party. ~~Two Hours later~~ "Roy?" "Yes, Lady Sukh?" "Have you seen MacHeather?" "No, my lady." "Well, crap. Let's go to her room and get her." In Heather's shrine room, chaos reigned. The kitty carrier was open and fur was everywhere. A small plastic puck like thing was sitting in the middle of the floor trilling intermittently. "Lucius?" Sukh called as Roy moved toward the back of the dark room. Something screeched and darted into the closet. "Lucius!" Sukh and Roy were on hands and knees looking into the darkness of the closet. "I can't believe you stepped on his tail." She paused and sucked in a breath. "I can't believe I'm crawling around on the floor in a corset." "Pardon moi, but it was an accident." A scrap of paper fluttered past Roy and he grabbed it and frowned. "What does it say?" "It's nothing, just scribbles." He reached back for the unhappy kitty, sitting on his mountain of pilfered writing instruments, glaring at him with yellow eyes. Something sharp dug into Roy's wrist. "Ouch!" He pulled his arm away and found himself face to face with Vampbear Nicholas. "Please Roy, it's a stuffed animal." She snatched up the vampbear and hugged it. "Hey!" She dropped the furball when she felt two sharp pinpoints of teeth on her not so PG-13 cleavage. "A pervert bear, great." She handed it back to Roy. "I have a cat to catch." She tried to chase Lucius, only to stop, panting, a few moments later. "You think I can't catch you in this getup," Sukh snorted and managed to corral Lucius, despite her tight corset. She stuffed him into the carrier and Roy stuffed the vampbear in to join the very perturbed black cat. "I'm going to take them to my room and change into something I can breathe in. Meet me in five ." ~~Five minutes in Sukh's room~~ Sukh pulled her black turtleneck on as Roy knocked. Lucius's growling grew louder and the carrier rattled as he leapt on Vampbear. Sukh picked up the carrier and shook it gently. "Can it, you two." Roy had on snug black pants, a black turtle neck and a black suit jacket. He took the carrier from Sukh as they slipped out of the shrine and headed to the stables. A few minutes later, two riders emerged from the courtyard of the stables. Roy had Lucius's kitty carrier in the saddle, and the vampbear was tied onto the front of Sukh's saddle. "To the Glow, then we have to find the General's chariot and the missing horses, or I'll have my Not-so-Vestal-breastplate taken away." Sukh wheeled one of the Friesian's around and Roy followed her into the dark Toronto streets. They clattered to a stop at the Glow and dismounted. Sukh held Nicholas the Vamp Bear at arms length. "this little sucker kept trying to bite me the entire way," She grumbled as she started into the pub. A flash of a gold covered wheel caught her attention. "Roy, make sure they both get to Brenda. I think I saw something." She tossed the vampbear at Roy, who caught it and tucked it under one arm. "Be careful." He stepped into the Glow as Sukh swung onto the Friesian and galloped off. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIIZ-0002M9-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:40:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3520; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:37:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7015; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:37:44 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:40:39 -0700 Reply-To: Liz the Lucky Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Liz the Lucky Subject: WAR: Nothers/Mercs: A Nother Lazy Day (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0d7135c8c648b47c2df43b9477119dcf Sending this in for NightDancer. Title: A Nother Lazy Day (01/02) By: NightDancer Date: Thursday, August 26, all day Place: le Chateau des Autres All real people used by permission, Daf and Harry are the property of the Nothers. "And where are you going?" Kat asked as Fleurette wandered through the great hall apparently dressed in nothing but a baggy t-shirt. The Nothers had been lounging around the room trading funny stories, since there wasn't really anything to do. "I was going to take a dip in the pool," the faction leader replied, waving her beach towel in their direction. "Swimming's good exercise when you're pregnant." "We have a pool?" Dancer asked. Kat and Liz both stifled grins. "Yeah, we discovered it when we took Nat on a tour of the Chateau at the opening," Liz informed the sometimes klewless co-founder. Then a thought popped into their shared brain and the cybersibs turned to look at each other. "Hey, Debbie, can we join you?" Kat asked. "It's a free swimming pool," she answered with a shrug. "Oh, yes, a swim sounds wonderful," Elladara agreed, although not for the same reason. "Great!" Liz exclaimed cheerfully. "How about we get changed and meet you down there?" About ten minutes later, the entire faction plus Daf was in swim wear and bare feet in the room that housed the indoor pool. Kat and Liz settled themselves into two lounge chairs, the former slipping off her shirt while the latter relaxed. "You're not coming in?" Fleurette asked, bobbing to the surface in the middle of a lap to greet the new arrivals. "Kat is, I'm not," Liz explained. "I can't swim--I don't have any eardrums." "Oh, okay." She then caught sight of the faction stableboy where he was entering the pool area clad only in purple swim trunks, with a towel thrown over one muscular shoulder. "Somebody say something about a pool party?" Fleurette grinned. Kat, Liz and Dancer waved eagerly at him and he crossed to them, obviously enjoying the attention. He spread his towel out next to Kat's. Jeanne, Fleurette's mom, wandered over to the edge of the pool and sat down, her feet dangling in the water. "Feels nice," she commented. "Yes, it is. Aren't any of you guys going to come in?" "I will in a moment," Dancer said dubiously, studying the water with something akin to wariness. "It's not going to bite you, Jewelz, and I know you don't have any excuse not to come in," Fleurette teased her. "How about I don't like diving--" "Then don't dive." "--or chlorine." The faction leader rolled her eyes. "Uh huh." She was about to say something more when NightDancer let out a shriek, spun around, and stumbled backwards into the pool, landing with an enormous splash. Thankfully, she was at the other end from where Fleurette was, so the splash didn't irritate her friend's asthma. The Nothers were still rolling with laughter when Dancer emerged, spluttering, from below the surface. "Ha-rry!" she wailed. "What did he do?" Fleurette managed to force out between gulps of laughter. "He PINCHED me!" Liz was gasping as well. "He goosed you! Oh, Harry, bravo!" "Sorry, ND," the invisible magician's voice apologized, although he sounded more amused than sorry. She growled. "Where are you, you little imp? I owe you for that!" Kat laughed. "Oh, don't take it so seriously, Dancer. You should have seen your face." A second later, she jumped. "Ack! Liz--PG-13, remember?" she scolded, turning to her cybersib. "Why are you telling me this?" Liz asked. "I didn't do anything." Harry laughed nervously, then sneezed. "Bless you," Fleurette stated calmly, still grinning. Kat rubbed her gluteus maximus, grinning. "Jealous of Daf, eh, Harry?" "Speaking of Daf..." Liz gave the stableboy a little push towards the pool. "Get in there so we can enjoy the sight of you dripping wet." Daf grinned and swept a melodramatic bow. "Your wish is my command." With that, he raced to the end of the diving board and cannonballed into the water. All and sundry shrieked with laughter, even those shielding their arms against the spray. NightDancer swam over to him and draped herself over his shoulders. "Hey, Kat," she called. "If you're not in here in ten seconds, I'm not sharing!" "Far be it for me to ignore a challenge!" Kat retorted, and dove in. She resurfaced next to the other two, grabbing Daf by the hand and pulling him away from Dancer. While they fought playfully over the young man, he enjoying every minute of it, Elladara climbed gradually into the shallow end, sitting down on the steps with a smile to enjoy the spectacle. "Hey, Kat," Liz suggested from her seat on the sidelines. "Try pantsing him!" Daf grabbed the waistband of his shorts before anyone else could. "Hey!" "PG-13!" Fleurette reminded them in warning. "Oh, fine," Liz pouted. "He does look pretty damned good even *with* the trunks." "Just Daf?" Kat retorted. "No, you look gorgeous too, love!" was the reply. "And the rest of us are chopped liver, right?" Dancer asked, then held up a hand. "No--don't answer that." Liz did anyway. "Well, I wouldn't say chopped..." NightDancer sent a wall of water in the direction of the shorebound Nother, soaking the tile around the edge of the pool. Liz laughed. "Gang way!" Harry's voice called and a second later the diving board began to shake. The water exploded in all directions as a man-sized hole suddenly appeared in it. Within minutes, the occupants of the pool were engaged in a water fight, Fleurette staying out of the thick of it because of her asthma. Finally, NightDancer crawled down to the shallow end to rest on the steps, while Kat threw herself on Daf's back and he picked her up piggyback style. "I wonder what it would be like to play Marco Polo with an invisible man," she wondered aloud, looking at the space in the water where Harry was. "Well, I certainly wouldn't mind finding out," the magician's voice answered. "Hey, that's cheating!" Dancer exclaimed in dismay a few minutes later as Harry tagged her. "How do I know if he had his eyes closed or not?" Kat laughed. "That didn't bother you when we suggested Harry be 'it,'" she pointed out. "You're just mad you're the one he caught." Dancer shrugged, grinning. "Guilty. Okay, but if I catch you, Harry, you can't get out of it by claiming you weren't really there!" He laughed. "Whatever you say, ND." Play continued and after a very long time Dancer finally tagged Daf. "Got you!" she crowed, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Gee," Liz teased from the water's edge, "If she holds on to him like that, does that count as him tagging her back?" Having no interest in continuing to be 'it,' Dancer released the stableboy and the others laughed. "That was a mean trick, Liz," she complained, smiling. "Just making sure everybody shares," Liz replied innocently. "After all, Kat has to play with him twice as much, since I can't." "We'll see about that," Daf decided with a grin, hauling himself out of the water and crossing to where Liz was sitting safe and dry. He scooped her up in his wet arms and began to carry her towards the pool. "Daf, this isn't funny!" Liz exclaimed in real fear. "I really can't swim!" Shushing her gently in a soothing voice, the stableboy set her down gently on the steps in the shallow end, which Elladara had abandoned to swim a few laps. "There," he told her quietly with a dazzling smile. "You're perfectly safe, and you're closer to the action. 'K?" She laughed, relieved, and leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek. "Thanks." "Anything for my ladies," he whispered back and returned the kiss, then returned to the game. To be continued... (01/02) Hugs and Kisses, Liz the Lucky FoD Merc luckyliz@mindspring.com Nanette Nother http://www.mindspring.com/~luckyliz Official Story Titler of the Nothers From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LILp-0006Hz-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:43:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5398; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:41:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7252; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:41:04 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:43:01 PDT Reply-To: Julie Jekel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Julie Jekel Subject: WAR: Nothers: A Nother Lazy Day (02/02) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 73e36bf297394e906ff7f20efabfe279 Title: A Nother Lazy Day (02/02) By: NightDancer Date: Thursday, August 26, all day Place: le Chateau des Autres All real people used by permission, Daf and Harry are the property of the Nothers. A few hours later... Although they'd enjoyed the pool, the group had eventually tired of it and scattered in search of other things. Fleurette had suggested it was about time she started doing a little shopping for the baby, and Jeanne, Dancer, and Elladara had eagerly offered to come along. Liz and Kat had declined in favor of taking their horses (and Daf) out for a little exercise on the Chateau grounds. The shopping party changed clothes, piled into the van, and drove to the mall. When they arrived, Fleurette admonished them all to remember where they were parked, then led the little troop out of the parking garage and into a nearby department store, making directly for maternity. "You know, I usually avoid this department," NightDancer mused. "I'm always afraid people might think *I* needed it." "Well, I think they can tell the clothes aren't for you this time," Fleurette returned, lovingly patting her burgeoning belly. She led them over to a rack of jeans and overalls, rummaging through them to find her current size. "Hey, Deb, isn't this cute?" Jeanne asked, holding up a charming blue-flowered nightgown she'd spotted a few racks over. It was white flannel trimmed with ribbon the same cobalt blue as the flowers, and looked a little reminiscent of a shirt her daughter already owned. "It is pretty," Fleurette agreed. "Bring it over and I'll go try it on in a minute." Between the four of them, they managed to pile up quite a collection of nice clothes, which NightDancer then helped the faction leader haul into a dressing room. She modeled each piece to the ooohs and aaahs of her fellows, then made her choices and Jeanne bought the two outfits she'd picked out as a baby gift. Next they wandered out into the mall and found their way to the Disney Store, where they zeroed in almost immediately on a line of "Classic Pooh" baby clothes, dishes, etc. Unfortunately, they were a little out of everyone's price range and they emerged again empty handed. Their next stop, at Dancer's suggestion, was the record store. "Mikey's birthday was last week," she explained. "And I've been promising for months to send him a tape of Michael W. Smith, so I thought I'd see if I could find one of his albums." "Who's Mikey?" Elladara asked. "He's the listdaddy for a list that Liz, Kat, Dancer and I are on in another fandom," Fleurette explained. "And he's also the person who saved the FKFIC-L FTP archive." "His full name is Michael W. Smith," NightDancer added with a grin. "So I thought he might like to hear the guy everyone mixes him up with." Unfortunately, the record store was currently out of Michael W. Smith so they again moved on. A few hours, several shops, and a late dinner later, they headed back out to the van, their arms heavy with bags and a host of satisfied smiles on their faces. Tomorrow was a big day, as they had plans to deliver the pendant Fleurette had received to the Knighties, so the Faction leader had suggested that they all (expecially Dancer) turn in early so they could get up in the morning. END (02/02) ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:07 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LINg-00055L-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:45:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3543; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:43:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7386; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:43:03 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:41:06 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: CUZ: "Lobsters and Chowder and Crabs, Oh MY!" (5/6) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7d4324e7ed8506e51411d531d2cf89c6 "LOBSTERS AND CHOWDER AND CRABS, OH *MY*!" (5/6) By Cousine Celeste and Cousin Lisa Input by GSS Agent sHolmes Date: Saturday evening, August 21st, perpetually A few hours after "I'll Get You My Pretty... And Your Little *Lobster*, Too!" Where: at The Barking Crab of Toronto McCousin McLisa McDavid appears because she goes where she wants to go. Everyone else appears because they were hungry and wanted a free meal. "Well!" said Cousine Celeste, scrubbing her hands with a WetNap, "that was yum *and* 'lish. No?" Everyone was either happy and drunk enough to agree that the dinner *had* been both yum and 'lish. "Is that it?" asked LaCroix. "Have we finished?" He reached for his glass of Sangria almost wistfully, as if he wanted to meal to continue. "Nope," said the Cousine. "We now face the ritual of the coffee-and-dessert." "Does it hurt?" whispered LaCroix facetiously, then both he and Cousinly Leader Tok fell all over each other laughing in a fit of those silly giggles that drunks who crack themselves up so often succumb to. Celeste pointedly ignored them. "What would *you* like for dessert, Agent sHolmes?" Cousin sHolmes looked startled for a moment, then smiled. "Why... I think I'd quite like a tarte tatin." That stopped conversation for a moment or two. "A... *what*?" said LaCroix, reverting to his waspish ways. Cousin sHolmes looked a bit non-plussed at the attention. "A tarte tatin. French apple pie. It's delicious." LaCroix turned his gaze on Celeste. "I want one of those." The Cousine grimaced. "You cannot have a 'tarte tatin'! Are you forgetting the kind of place you are currently having dinner in? I mean...," here, Celeste picked up the edge of the plastic tablecloth and gestured downwards, "the floor's concrete! They wash the layers of filth down into the canal with a garden hose when the flies get too thick! Hey, who threw all those lobster claws down there?" Lisa spoke up at this point, hoping to distract everyone from the under-the-table evidence of her earlier crime. "General, you get a choice of the Death by Chocolate Hunk 'o Fudge Cake, the Big Pan 'o Chocolate Chip Cookie with whipped cream, the Mighty Moose Pie with marshmallow bits, the Toronto-Please-Cheese-me Cake with raspberry preserves, or...." and here she took a breath, "the Key Lime pie." She was reading this from a great, big chalk board set up over the waiter's station. 'Key Lime pie' was written in electric-day-glo-green chalk. "Key lime pie! Now there's an idea!" said Celeste. "Light. Airy. Piquant. Just the thing after a big meal!" McLisa craned her neck around, trying to see where Lisa was reading from. "Have they no catnip? Have they no Mouse Guts pie? What, are they prejudiced against felinoid-Americans?" LaCroix glanced at her for a moment and, even in his drunken state, reminded himself that he needed to have a talk with this *felinoid* Cousin. "Hey, I don't ever want to *hear* the phrase 'Mouse Guts pie' again for the rest of my life, do you hear me?" said Lisa. She turned to the Dessert Board once more. "They do have a 'mousse'... how's that?" "Close enough," said McLisa. Lisa wanted the Death by Chocolate Hunk 'o Fudge Cake, Cousin sHolmes went for the All-Amurrican Apple Pie a la Mode as a near approximation of Tarte Tatin, McLisa ordered the Dreamy-Creamy Glop 'o Mousse-in-a-Cup, and Celeste convinced LaCroix to go with the Key Lime pie, which she ordered, too. Tok was head down, asleep, on the table at this point, so Celeste took a stab at it and ordered the Rainbow o' Jello for her: a block of 6 different colors and flavors of fruity gelatin, many with chunks of actual, real fruit in them. "There's always room for Jello," reasoned the Cousine. "And coffee... all around. Do you have hazelnut?" "Aren't Cousins sweet when they're asleep?" said LaCroix, stroking the sleeping Tok's hair out of her face in a fatherly gesture. "...and at no other time?" said Celeste. This time she joined the General in a fit of the giggles. TO BE CONTINUED WHEN THE DESSERT IS DELIVERED. ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIOP-0002ZD-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:46:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5428; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:43:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7539; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:43:45 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:42:59 EDT Reply-To: Third Cousin Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: NA: Wedding Wishes To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e46dc70579f54de0616839e8da098308 NA: Wedding Wishes by Patt Elmore When: Saturday night, August 28, 1999 Where: The Fiendish Glow ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was a good night for a rest. A rest won from hard fought battle and best shared in the company of good friends. Patt had been delighted to receive word that Heather had been found, though she had only learned on Friday that the MacCousin had been missing since the Conversion Day Celebration. And, to learn that her reason for being missing was cause for celebration in itself, was a greater joy. Now, Patt, Bons, Ivy, KC, Caren and Supaige were sitting at a table at the Fiendish Glow, enjoying the warmth of the establishment and basking in the celebratory air. "Does anyone know exactly what happened? Why Heather came up missing?" Patt asked over the strains of the music. "I think it had something to do with Chris getting angsty about Heather's addiction to LaCroix, and thinking the General might have first dibs on the bride," Caren replied, a twinkle in her eye. "Ahhh," Patt took another swallow of her Budweiser as she watched the newlyweds dance by. "I can understand why the young man might have a *Nick* moment, in that regard." The Addicts laughed and sat back, listening to the lilting sound of the Celtic music which filled the room. "Much better than the last bar we were in," Supaige smiled. "Especially, since we don't have a Poobah to deal with," KC growled. Then the Kissing Cousin grinned appreciatively at Patt. "Wonder how her head is doing?" "Knowing how hardheaded Laurie MercBard is," Bons said, taking a sip of her sour, "she's doing just fine." That brought another round of laughter to the table. The music changed, the soulful melody now telling of the plight of love lost, then won again. Heather and Chris were dancing close now, lost in each other. "They look so happy," Ivy said. The other Addicts sighed. "I'll be darned," Supaige suddenly spoke up. "There's Mel Gibbers again." Caren's head shot up, her eyes searching the room. "Where?!!" "Over by the bar," Supaige continued. "He sure is making all the parties this week . . ." But, by now, Supaige was talking to air. Caren was already leaning against Mel, chatting contentedly. "You gonna let her have a dance with him?" Bons gave Patt a questioning look. Patt just smiled. Bons looked back toward the dance floor, where Caren now floated in Mel's arms. [ Happy birthday, Cae! ] "Ain't love grand?" Patt grinned. She held her longneck up to the other Addicts at the table, an invitation to toast. The others lifted their glasses and clinked them together. "May the newlyweds know only bliss. May their strifes be simple to solve and a blessing to forgive. To Heather and Chris--long life, good health and love--Forever." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the end 01/01 patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIQC-0002cJ-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:47:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5442; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:45:36 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7703; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:45:36 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:47:31 PDT Reply-To: Felicia Olivier Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Felicia Olivier Subject: War:Vaqs--Welcome Back to the Land of the Not-Quite Living To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f263f10365911a71000e1fdd5d1791de 29 Aug 1999 The Church Toronto, ON 12:00 midnight Saturday-Sunday Disclaimer: Urs used with Trish's kind permission. Welcome Back to the Land of the Not-Quite Living By Vaq Scribe #3, Felicia The Vaqs and Juan were laying around in relative quiet. The only sound was Carmecita's constant yowling. Vachon held the cat, stroking her silky fur gently. "Que pasa, mija," he cooed. The cat blinked several times and yowled. "Something's not right with that cat," Scott said impatiently. "She's never meowed so much before. "I can't figure it out. She usually calms down when I hold her." Vachon released the cat, who scurried away, tossing frustrated cries ovet her shoulder. Just then, a sudden cloud burst errupted over the Church. The tarp, which was still blocking the hole in the roof, did not keep out the rain. Vaqs spread out in all directions to gather buckets to catch the stray drops. The rain came hard and fast, and the buckets filled quickly. The Vaqs took turns emptying them. Carmecita had parked herself in the middle of the floor, as cats usually do. It was Cliff who tripped over the small speed bump and his bucket, now full, doused the cat liberally. The yowl that filled the Church was horrific. "Ack," Cliff shouted. "I didn't meant to!" "Oh, it's okay. We can dry her off." Teresita scooped up the cat and carried her off to the Evil Pink Bathroom. She dried the cat, using a towel and finally a hair dryer to warm her. When she returned, she set Carmecita down and annouced, "Good as new." Carmecita was indeed better, and she calmly sauntered over to her master. She allowed Vachon to pet her, and rubbed against his legs. "I can't imagine what was wrong with you," he told the cat, "but I'm glad you're acting like your old self again." The door opened, and a voice called out, "Javier, are you here?" "Urs!" Felicia rushed over to the woman, who smiled warmly. "Hey, Feleesh! I almost forgot you'd be here. Ca va?" The petite Cajun smiled in return. "Ah, oui, ca va bien, et tu?" "I'm alright, I suppose," the ex-New Orleans saloon girl said. "I'm still not quite used to this mortality thing." "I have a feeling it won't last long, Urs. We gave over our pieces of the puzzle to the Knighties a couple of days ago." Tammy looked at Vachon's fledge. "It could reverse at any time." Urs sank into the sofa. "Really? This war has just been full of surprises." Vachon cocked an eyebrow at her. "Surprises, hmmm? So, the rumors are true?" Urs feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about Javier." The Vaqs exchanged knowing looks and nodded. Felicia slid her index finger across her throat indicating for Vachon to stop the line of questions. He actually interpreted it correctly. "Okay, well, it's good to see you. How've you been?" "Oh, well, you know, I spent most of my time at the Mansion." "Yeah, I know. That would be why I haven't seen you." "Right." Teresita looked from one to the other and jumped up. "Okay, so who's up for charades?" There was a murmur, and then an extremely loud crash of thunder. "Y'all, did that sound *too* loud for normal thunder?" Tracy Sue faced her Second in Command. "I didn't like the sound of it." The two leaders rushed to the door and their faction followed. "Hey," Melissa said, "there's a lot of lightening over there! What building is that?" Rae sighed. "That would be the loft." Tabs whispered, "So he's doing it." The group re-entered the Church and faced the three soon-to-be-vamps. "Javier, where is it," Tammy asked. He just blinked. "Where's what?" The Vaqs sighed. "Your supply, Jav," Emma supplied. "You know, many green bottles. . ." "Usually strewn all over the floor." "Hey, yeah! They're not in the normal place. Okay, who cleaned in here?" Felicia wore a sheepish look. "Um, sorry y'all, that's the DP in me." She hurried to a corner and lifted a crate. The bottles were neatly tucked in their slots. She placed the crate in the middle of the floor. "There are six more crates in that corner." "Oh, good gravy! She dusted them," Scott was exasperated. Felicia glared. "Yes I did. And I polished the crate, too." Juan laughed. "Hey, I do that, too!" Felicia beamed. "But I don't feel any different," Urs protested. "Maybe Nick's spell isn't working." "Better safe than sorry," the VaqMadre said. "Yeah, Stephanie said. "We're just being safe." Vachon looked dubious. "Okay, you guys are probably right, but I don't feel different ei. . ." His voice trailed off and he doubled over. "Oh, geez! It's happening!" Cliff looked worried. "Wow." Scott moved back from the three morphing vampires. "This can't be a good thing." "Relax, everyone. It'll be okay." Felicia watched intensely for signs of danger, and seeing none, approached each vamp with a bottle. "Here, let me help ya, Twinks." Teresita was ready with a second for each. "Don't mind me," Melissa said. "I'll be back here." A few Vaqs nodded and moved off with her. When the change had occured, the skittish Vaqs came in to look at the vampires. In fact, they stared. "What? We look the same, don't we? Have I suddenly grown a second head," Vachon was puzzled at their odd behavior. "No, no. Just the fangs and glowing eyes, is all," Scott supplied. "Oh, sorry." They fought briefly for control, and soon the three looked normal. "Whew. I'm glad that's over," Juan said. "I'd forgotton how vulnerable mortals are." "Yeah," Urs agreed. "Even I'm glad to be back to nor- well, back to the way I was." "I'm exhausted. Must've been the change. I've got to sleep," Vachon's eyes were drooping even as he spoke. "Okay, vamps to the basement. We'll crash up here." Tracy Sue motioned Juan, Vachon, and Urs toward the stairs. They filed out of the room, and the Vaqs prepared to sack out. In the morning, the Vaqs awakened to find they were being watched. The three vampires sat quietly, waiting for the mortals to stir. They slowly began to move, one by one, and were surprised to find the vamps up. "I expected y'all to sleep all day. What's up," Felicia asked. "I knew you guys were leaving. We wanted to say thanks and good bye," Vachon said. "Ah, yes. We've got to go. The Warlock's orders, you know." "I know." The Vaqs speedily tidied their quarters and gathered their things. The lined up, and Teresita passed a pair of red shoes to each. Vachon, Juan, and Urs passed down the line, giving a personal au revoir to each. Then it was time. "Okay, people. Everyone put on the shoes." They did. Teresita said, "Everyone repeat after me while clicking heels. 'There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home.'" The Vaqueras and Vaqueros did as instructed, and with a whoosh, they and all of their belongings, pets and all, disappeared home. Vachon sighed. "I'm really gonna miss having them here," he said softly. Juan slung an arm around him. "Me to, Javier. Fun group." Urs joined the men. "Oh, Javier. I wouldn't worry. They'll be back soon. I'd bet on it," she said with a smile. Vachon looked around the empty Church and remembered the events of the last two weeks, from the grand entrace of his V-Troopers, to the Church Trashing, the Headquarters-switching fiasco, the CERK takeover, and the barfight. He realized Urs was right. He smiled. Felicia Vaquera Adjutant General, Kenpo Queen, Scribe #3, VWT2, Vaq Brat Extrordinaire (and lovin' every minute of it!) Y'all think we've been thug-ish? Just wait. . . . . ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LITr-0002it-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:51:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5472; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:49:22 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7997; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:49:22 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:47:44 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS: Threads Unraveling (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5cba8ca73a2e6d14530da4f70bc5e9e6 WAR: MERCS: Threads Unraveling (01/01) by Laurie MercBard, with input from Bons, Jules, and Patt filk by Laurie MercBard, Max LaBoy and Vicky Cernos PLACE: Merc Central TIME: Saturday after midnight, several hours after LaCroix has regained his powers LaCroix used with permission Merc Central was exceedingly quiet, as the Poobah headed to her office, singing her latest filk, to the tune of Maria from The Sound of Music. How do you solve a problem like Nicola? How do you make a son obey his dad? How do you fight the demons of Nicola? He worships the sun. He will not drink blood. He's mad! Many a time you know you'd like to stake him Especially when he's messing up the plan. But how do you make him see? A mortal he'll never be? Doesn't he understand he'll never tan? Oh, how do you solve a problem like Niccola? How do you keep a vampire in the clan? As she approached her closed door, with no warning whatsoever, LaCroix appeared out of thin air. She hadn't heard a thing. Just like a ... uh oh. "Good evening, Laurie," he addressed her, a small smile playing across his face. The Poobah drew a deep, steadying breath. Still, she managed to present a collected face. Gambling he wouldn't rip her throat out on the next to last day of the war, she replied, "Lucien." Her tone indicated she knew he was once more a vampire, and her eyes had an unmistakable look of appreciation at that fact. LaCroix raised an eyebrow at the use of his first name, but recognizing her satisfaction, he chose to ignore it. For now. "I am here to settle a few dangling plotlines," he announced, "Shall we go into your office and discuss matters further?" "Umm, my office is quite a mess right now. Why don't we talk in the main hall?" The Poobah almost grabbed LaCroix's arm, but remembering his renewed powers, pulled back at the last moment. "This way." The vampire started to follow her, when a loud *THUD* was heard from behind the closed office door. LaCroix stopped, listening. "What was that?" "Fanfic fairies moving furniture?" In one fluid movement, the vampire opened the door and entered the Poobah's office, catching four busy Fanfic fairies attempting , not very successfully, to hang the Nunkies in Repose tapestry on the GHP's wall. Laurie waited for the coming vamperic explosion. Caught red-handed, she didn't have a leg, fanfic fairy or human, to stand on. To her surprise, LaCroix, catching sight of the tapestry, turned to her with a smile. "Well done, my dear MercBard. You have more than exceeded my expectations. With seemingly no hopes of retrieval, I wanted the tapestry destroyed. But you have somehow succeeded where twenty plot ideas could not and recovered the merchandise. You have most assuredly earned your fee." Laurie tried desperately not to grind her teeth, though inwardly she was fuming. LaCroix thought the Merc tapestry was the one the DPs possessed! He was going to take it back. He was going to waltz into Merc Central and retrieve it, without a shot being fired. And there was nothing she could do about it, without exposing her own culpability. In which case, he would not only take back the tapestry, but likely take her throat out as well. She would have to make the best of a bad situation. There must be some way to turn this to the Mercs' advantage. "Speaking of my fee ... you know, it didn't include tapestry recovery, only destruction. We need to renegotiate." LaCroix almost laughed. "And if I refuse? You will do what? Come up with another plot solution? On even shorter notice? I think not. This one was hard enough." He stared at her coldly. The newly-restored vampire was right. She had written herself into a corner. Although she had long ago, in one of her first posts, given herself a small out. Just in case. For she now had more than 100 first rate copies, indistinguishable from the originals, stored in the Merc tapestry manufacturing plant. Upon her command, Nunkies in Repose tapestries would flood Toronto's market, driving down the value of any already out there to next to nothing. In the end, the Mercs would make their profit - and have the last laugh. She might as well bow out graciously. "Very well," she said grudgingly. LaCroix gathered up the tapestry and prepared to leave. "Oh, and Laurie?" "Yes, Lucien?" She tried to keep her tone mild. "Your attempt to infiltrate my Addicts' storyline is now over." That got the MercBard going. "Well, it wasn't exactly an *infiltration*," the peeved off Poobah retorted. "I didn't hide it. I posted the stories under my own byline, and loudly announced my presence in every NA post I was in. Besides, it was that 85th cousin of yours who put me in charge.Blame it on her. And that leaden High Priestess. Hey, speaking of the HP, want to take a look at my photo album?" So much for peace in our time. "And besides," she added smugly, "They gave me permission. I have it in writing." "Permission is now rescinded," the vampire replied icily. "Fine. I get the message," the Poobah muttered, adding under her breath, "I'll get those Nunkheads next war, that's all." But of course, LaCroix heard the comment clearly. "Next war?" he queried, his voice silky with malice. "My dear Poobah, somehow I think you will have a great many other things to worry about next war." And he was gone. - finis- Laurie MercBard, lschlag@reporters.net Mercenary Guild GHP, Head Troublette; First One, Clan Knotwell "Being right all the time is a heavy burden, especially when you're wrong" - GHP Pearls of Wisdom From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIVt-0006WP-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:53:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5486; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:51:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8158; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:51:19 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:48:03 -0700 Reply-To: Teresa Stevenson Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Teresa Stevenson Subject: WAR:Ravenettes: A Graceful Exit To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1d88bb8ea31bfd168f85f80bd975d8f7 This is a multi-part message in MIME format. --------------B213D69D1231DDF009A9C8F9 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Teresa took a final survey of her room at the Raven. Nothing was out of place, nothing personal was left. It was ready for the next stray Janette chose to take in. Teresa took a deep breath and apsted a smile on her face. She picked up her carry on bag and headed for the rear door to catch her ride to the airport. Alex met her with the van. Her suitcases were already loaded. There was no excuse to linger. She had said Good Bye to Janette and the other vampires last night. She had left a proper Thank You note and a small gift of earrings on Janette's desk. She dredged up a little extra brightness in her smile for Alex and climbed into the van. "Real Life is calling. Let's go forth and do battle." Alex grinned and put the van into gear. -- Teresa Stevenson "It's always a good idea to know what the other side is up to." Nick Knight --------------B213D69D1231DDF009A9C8F9 Content-Type: message/rfc822 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Disposition: inline Received: from onelist.com (pop.onelist.com [209.207.135.229]) by sparrow.prod.itd.earthlink.net (8.9.3/8.9.3) with SMTP id TAA23567 for ; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 19:14:32 -0700 (PDT) Received: (qmail 24622 invoked by alias); 30 Aug 1999 02:13:47 -0000 Received: (qmail 24609 invoked from network); 30 Aug 1999 02:13:44 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO gull.prod.itd.earthlink.net) (207.217.121.85) by pop.onelist.com with SMTP; 30 Aug 1999 02:13:44 -0000 Received: from earthlink.net (pool0858.cvx21-bradley.dialup.earthlink.net [209.179.195.93]) by gull.prod.itd.earthlink.net (8.9.3/8.9.3) with ESMTP id TAA21956 for ; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 19:14:23 -0700 (PDT) Message-ID: <37C9E77A.77125396@earthlink.net> Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 19:07:54 -0700 From: Teresa Stevenson X-Mailer: Mozilla 4.04 [en] (Win95; I) To: Ravenette War List Mailing-List: list ravenettes@onelist.com; contact ravenettes-owner@onelist.com Delivered-To: mailing list ravenettes@onelist.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Reply-to: ravenettes@onelist.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Subject: [ravenettes] WAR:Ravenettes: A Graceful Exit From: Teresa Stevenson Here's my Going Home story. I think it a little to short to justify dropping by itself. Why don't those of you who want to do a final post add a bit and we can drop it as a group? Teresa took a final survey of her room at the Raven. Nothing was out of place, nothing personal was left. It was ready for the next stray Janette chose to take in. Teresa took a deep breath and apsted a smile on her face. She picked up her carry on bag and headed for the rear door to catch her ride to the airport. Alex met her with the van. Her suitcases were already loaded. There was no excuse to linger. She had said Good Bye to Janette and the other vampires last night. She had left a proper Thank You note and a small gift of earrings on Janette's desk. She dredged up a little extra brightness in her smile for Alex and climbed into the van. "Real Life is calling. Let's go forth and do battle." Alex grinned and put the van into gear. -- Teresa Stevenson "It's always a good idea to know what the other side is up to." Nick Knight Of course, I watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- ONElist now has T-SHIRTS! For details and to order, go to: Click Here ------------------------------------------------------------------------ A glass of the House Special, perhaps? --------------B213D69D1231DDF009A9C8F9-- From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIWG-0002mF-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:54:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3587; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:49:30 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8037; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:49:28 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:51:02 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA: So, I Ain't a Toastmistress...(1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 7b5fe130c8a29943bdeb3fc5ad47bf17 Title: So, I Ain't A Toastmistress... (1/1) Author: Christy Stillman Place/Time: Saturday, August 28, The Fiendish Glow, During the Wedding Reception Follows: Step We Gaily, On We Go.... Notes: Everybody used with permission. "Congratulations, you two," Glennis said to the glowing (figuratively, not literally) couple. Hugs were exchanged among the sister Addicts. "I must say you look better in a kilt than you did in that rat costume," Dee teased Chris. The poor man blushed profusely. "He looks good in everything," said Heather, who was kind enough to drop the accent, knowing that Christy couldn't type it. "Or noth..." "PG-13, MacCousin!" Christy reminded her with a smile. "We were just happy to see you safe and well. May you have a long and happy life together! Now," she gave the couple a little shove, "go out there and dance again. Enjoy." They watched as the two floated away, lost in one another's eyes. Glennis sighed. "Remember when we were that young and in love?" "Young? I was young?" Christy replied in mock surprise. "Crud. I must've missed it." The Atlanteans started a lively number that soon had their toes tapping. As she was clapping along with the music, Dee was pulled from her chair by a lovely pair of calves in a kilt...er...a nice young man. She once again proved her prowess on the dance floor by jigging with the best of them. Glennis was soon claimed for one of the slower numbers. Being a great fan of kilted males, she was ecstatic about the experience. As toasts rang out in between dance numbers, Christy was shoved to her feet by the other two Nunketeers. "You're writing this," Dee whispered. "Offer up a toast to the bride and groom." "I'm NOT good at that," came the answer. "Why don't you let Glennis do it?" "Because you didn't think to ask Glennis to write one to put in the post, and this puppy's gotta drop soon. You're just gonna have to wing it." A sudden silence filled the room and Christy realized that all eyes were upon her. She had a momentary flashback of having to give a presentation in front of class back during her high school days and almost ran from the room screaming. Instead, she gulped and forged ahead, raising her glass. "To our sister Addict and her new husband. May your life together be one of joy interspersed with just enough adversity to make you cling to one another even more closely than you do tonight. May you never take one another for granted and always live to make your spouse happy. May you not forget that you are never alone, for you have your best friend by your side and in your arms. And may you...um...live long and prosper," she said, raising her hand in a now-famous salute. Sips were taken from glasses as Christy sat down. "Live long and prosper?" Glennis asked with a grin. "Hey, if it's good enough for the pointy-eared logic-lovers, it's good enough for Chris and Heather," she answered, blushing. "Besides, I couldn't think of a way to end the darn thing." Sitting back, the three sipped their drinks and drank a silent toast to their own longsuffering mates back in the world of RL. From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIXc-0002pU-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:55:32 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5503; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:52:58 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8300; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:52:58 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:51:04 -0400 Reply-To: gozer@CHANNEL1.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Celeste Hotaling-Lyons Subject: WAR: CUZ: "Lobsters and Chowder and Crabs, Oh MY!" (6/6) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 928634113f2aa7c87f38c5920df51a62 "LOBSTERS AND CHOWDER AND CRABS, OH *MY*!" (6/6) By Cousine Celeste and Cousin Lisa Input by GSS Agent sHolmes Date: Saturday evening, August 21st, the night that never seems to end A few hours after "I'll Get You My Pretty... And Your Little *Lobster*, Too!" Where: at The Barking Crab of Toronto McCousin McLisa McDavid appears because she goes where she wants to go. Everyone else appears because they were hungry and wanted a free meal. It was just a special moment on one of those special nights, when everyone has eaten well, and the company is congenial and the conversation alternately interesting and silly, and everyone is having a great time. Lots of laughter. Lots of insults, well meant and as well taken. A warm and gentle breeze blew through the open-air restaurant, bringing with it the salty smell of the ocean; the only thing that would have smelled even better would be freshly brewed coffee.... ...which was delivered on that thought, hot and steamy. The desserts showed up moments later, Bob the waiter doing his usual balancing act. There was almost a moment of tragedy when the Rainbow o' Jello nearly bounced off the plate and into the lap of the bemused Tok ("What is this? I ordered *this*? How drunk *am* I?") but Bob the waiter recovered beautifully and it rebounded off the rim of the dish, jiggling in a self-satisfied fashion. The Key Lime pie was a lovely, inviting pale green, with a top crust of lightly browned meringue. Simultaneously, in a sort of Olympic Synchronized Eating event, LaCroix and Celeste each took a bite of their respective pies. Mmmmmm. It was tart and sweet and delicious and, and, and.... LaCroix closed his eyes and began to hum. The table fell silent and the Cousins could not help but stare in awe, as yet another in a series of new and different Uncle phenomena took place. The tune was hauntingly familiar to Cousine Celeste, and she was not a bit surprised when, to everyone else's amazement, LaCroix opened his eyes and began to sing the following: (Sung to the tune of 'Pure Imagination' from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) "Eat with me and you'll be in a world of culinary elation. Take a bit and you'll imbibe in a culinary elation. We'll begin with a sip, drinking in the world of my libation What we'll ingest will defy explanation...." Apparently the evening and the meal had been such a fabulous experience that LaCroix felt the overwhelming urge to share the joy in his tummy with the rest of the world, specifically those within hearing-distance of his voice. Moments later, when Cousine Celeste climbed onto the table where the frat-rats were still eating their lobster dinners (which had only just been served) and began singing with LaCroix, the Cousins attributed it to the Sangria, but they could not have been more wrong. She'd only had one glass of wine, and had merely lost one or two little inhibitions because of it. The fact was, Cousine Celeste had always harbored the secret, hidden wish to live her life as if in a wide-screen, Technicolor movie. When she shopped in stores and soft-rock muzak played over the speakers, she saw herself in a kind of Debbie Reynolds-Gene Kelly musical, often walking to the beat and singing the words in her head. She loved the street musician who played the drum solo over by the train stop she got off of at work, because she could make believe she was in a sexy crime-caper flick, like Gambit or Charade. And so, when LaCroix began singing a filk based on one of her favorite movies, it was nothing for her to leap delicately to the next table, in the process of which she ended up liberally soaking the entire table and several frat boys with cocktail sauce. Ignoring their piteous cries, she threw her arms wide to fill the big screen, and began to sing: "If you want to taste paradise, simply grab it up and taste it. Anything you want to, chew it. Want to eat the claws, there's nothing to it." With that, she reached down onto one of the college guy's plates, ripped off a claw and sucked the meat out of it. Then she continued: "There is no food that I know to compare with boiled crustacean. Eating here, you'll be full, if you truly wish to be." Stepping down off the table, Celeste went to stand behind LaCroix to join him in the final chorus, placing the empty claw on the table as she moved, and they sang together: "If you want to taste paradise, simply grab it up and taste it. Anything you want to, chew it. Want to eat the claws...? There's... nothing... to it." LaCroix was on his feet clapping ecstatically even as they finished the chorus. The rest of the restaurant was on its feet running for the exit before they were completely finished; they had obviously had quite enough Cousinly entertainment for the evening. LaCroix, however, felt the evening would not be complete without an ensemble number to go with the duet. So, he took his place on the picnic table, standing in the midst of Cousine Celeste's shell sculpture, one foot resting comfortably in Tok's uneaten Rainbow o' Jello, and beckoned his followers closer.... "Oh, what the hell," thought Lisa, jumping to her feet. (Sung to 'Candyman' from Willy Wonka) "Who can take a Knight-y, Bite him on the neck Suck out all his blood, but leave a drop or two. The General... The General can... The General can cause he does whatever he likes And makes himself feel good." "Who can take a sword pin Make the Cousins sigh Turn it all to darkness and watch the little children cry." "The General?" the Cousins chorused loudly. "The General can," he sang in agreement. "The General can cause he does whatever he likes, and makes himself feel good." Doing a little jig around the tabletop, he belted out. "Lucian makes.... everyone he takes, terrifying and all vicious, Talk about his fondest wishes. He can even be malicious." LaCroix did a flying leap off the table and walked from Cousin to Cousin singing, "Who can take the moonlight, Dip in a dream Separate all the light And make you be all mean The General...." "Lucian LaCroix can," the Cousins shouted. "The General can cause he does whatever he likes and makes himself feel good," he finished, grabbing up the pitcher of Sangria and drinking right from the spout. "I have your bill, sir," said Bob the waiter, presenting LaCroix with the evening's invoice. "If you leave quickly and take these women with you, and promise never, ever to return, I will pay it myself." "Done!" cried Cousine Celeste. She grabbed her dish of Key Lime pie in one hand and LaCroix's arm in the other and began unceremoniously dragging him towards the door. She knew a bargain when she saw one. Outside The Barking Crab of Toronto, everyone headed up the black-topped path, happily satisfied with full tummies and even fuller wallets, chatting amiably. Lisa sidled up beside LaCroix and said, "So, General -- about that bust you keep in your bathroom, I was wondering--" LaCroix threw his arm around Lisa, shook Cousine Celeste off his other arm and threw it around her as well, hugging them both as they walked. "Anything you little darlings want! Anything at all, dearest Lisa!" "Anything?" Suddenly the bust-in-the-bathroom seemed small potatoes. "Celeste," Lisa hissed at the Cousine across the General's chest, as if he couldn't hear every word she said, "Didya hear that? He said *anything*!" She grinned maniacally, her thoughts of what she could get out of good ol' LC running rampant. "Yeah. Anything. Cool...," Celeste shot back at her. "Which of course makes is a real pity LaCroix's not going to remember any of this tomorrow...." Lisa's face fell. LaCroix had been humming a familiar tune over their heads while they talked, and suddenly he began to sing the words: "Every death I cause, Every neck I jaw; Never do I pause, Each demise because I am watching you...." "He *does* look a lot like Sting," muttered GSS Agent sHolmes as she activated her miniature tape recorder. It was her opinion that some people should never be allowed to watch another musical again for the rest of their lives, but this was too good not to get on tape. THE END... FINALLY! (Sorry the Lobster Chronicles took so long to post: I think I'll make it a general rule for myself for all future wars, "Never get laid off from your job while taking Uncle out to dinner"!) ~~*~~ TOUJOURS LACROIX ~~*~~ A fanzine about Uncle, written for and by Cousins! ~~*~~ $20 + $3.20 S&H in the U.S. ~~*~~ Edited & published by Lisa Prince 360 Connecticut Avenue, PMB #208, Norwalk, CT 06854-1820 ~~*~~ litemoon@ix.netcom.com ~~*~~ "Leading Cousins is a lot like herding cats." ~~*~~ http://www.fanzines.com ~~*~~ From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIYu-0006bt-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:56:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2482; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:54:37 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8427; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:54:37 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:56:34 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: WAR: NA: Tied in Knots (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 54d87e16676ec8567c8ac94f05c33d65 WAR: NA: Tied in Knots (01/01) by Jules, Laurie MercBard, Patt Elmore, and Bons (yippee!) Place: The Shrine Time: Late Saturday evening, approximately 4 hours after LC returns following Mercs: Threads Unraveling to his vampire state Construction workers, mortal or immortal, sure didn't know how to clean up after themselves. As the hour grew later on Saturday night, several Addicts found themselves shanghaied into something new and different: clean-up duty. As they swept up the last of the plaster and dust that had been left behind, Ivy sneezed and Bram coughed. This being an NA story, not an NP story, no ventilators appeared. Suddenly Caren was struck by a thought. "Ow!!!" She rubbed her sore head with no small degree of irritation. "Hey, why are *we* doing this? Where are the Fanfic Fairies??" the Louisiana Addict asked, perturbed. "Don't you remember? They've unionized and are making outrageous demands," Ivy explained. "They're asking for things like non-sensible shoes. Now how many of those have we got lying about?" It was at this inopportune moment that Bons chose to enter the Shrine, replete with three large bags filled with pairs of that very precious commodity. "Our saviour!" blurted out Supaige, as a dozen Addicts rushed towards the unsuspecting Scribe in a full-blown stampede. >From out of nowhere, Patt appeared, waving a white flag. "Now where in tarnation do y'all think you're going?" she asked in an accusatory manner. "We need help!" Monica said. "We're tired of cleaning!" pled Nite. Egrus Toga bleeped in support of his mistress' statement. "The Fanfic Fairies won't come to our rescue unless we have a pair of non-sensible shoes to give them!" Caren added. "Well, they're not getting *my* shoes. They already got my left kidney in that 'Play ABBA For Me' incident," Bons interjected, sneakily trying to throw her faction off the scent. She of course didn't mention that, with the demise of F. Hugh in Kriel's stomach, she was now faction leader of the 4Fers, the fan fic fairy faction, and had implemented a new fee schedule, consisting entirely of non-sensible shoes. "But Bonnnnnnns," whined several Addicts. Bonnie turned to Patt. "Where's Jules? Did she give them grout duty?" the petite redhead asked. "Haven't seen much of Jules since she got back from the bar fight and packed her suitcase," Patt replied. "Besides, you're in charge now, what with her going on hiatus and the Nunkmommy not being here." "But I don't *wanna* be in charge. Not all the way in charge, anyway," Bons said in a plaintive voice. "I want to spend some quality time alone with my non-sensibles." "Too bad," said a velvety voice from behind them, causing the Addicts to jump back in surprise. "DON'T *DO* THAT!" the chorus of Addicts yelled at a rather bemused looking Lacroix, who stood there with what looked like a rolled up tapestry slung across one shoulder. Lacroix merely raised an eyebrow and started walking towards one of the Shrine alcoves and the Sacred Site of the Tapestry. After quickly glancing amongst themselves, the Addicts dropped their brushes and brooms and, as Addicts are prone to do, followed Nunkies. As LaCroix unfurled his bundle, a hush came over the room. "It's *the* Tapestry!" Supaige murmured, never removing her eyes from the thigh which now graced her sight. "It's lucious," Monica breathed headily. "Perfect!" Nite nodded, while Egrus chirped happily. "But, more importantly, it's back," Patt noted. At this, Bonnie began to clap. "And, I didn't have to mortgage my shoes again to buy it!!" "So, Sir, how did you come to be in receipt of our stolen property?" Patt asked, hoping her tone was properly respectful. LaCroix glanced at the Mature Addict, and gave her a thin smile. "I paid dearly for it," the General said. Then his smile widened, almost evilly cheerful. "But, I expect to be recompensed in kind." Patt shivered. Something was . . . different. Once the Lucius in Repose Tapestry was unrolled to its full size, Bons gave the wall a critical look. "I guess we need a ladder, don't we?" "You, most assuredly," LaCroix jibed. One of the taller Addicts held up her hand to volunteer, but LaCroix simply shook his head. The brand-new ancient vampire easily levitated from the marble floor and hung the tapestry himself, much to the shock of the Addicts. "He's re-converted," Caren whispered. "He's not mortal anymore," Monica added the obvious. "Either that or he's found some really killer anti-grav boots," Patt said dryly. The congregated Addicts somehow joined in a chant as full meltdown began. "He's back to his powerful, masterful, gorgeous, exquisite...." "Lucious!" Monica moaned. "You been taking lessons from Jules?" asked Patt, interrupting the droolfest. "I'm also happy to report," LaCroix continued, "that the Shrine no longer houses a division of Revenue Canada. As of this coming Monday, their branch office has been . . . relocated." Several Addicts cheered. Patt suffered a momentary twinge, thinking about Alfred Pectin, then she smiled wistfully. Lacroix turned to Bonnie and deposited a large file in her hands. "What's this?" asked the Scribe. "Payroll," replied the Ancient. "Even the immortal can't escape paperwork. Be sure to have that completed by the time you show up for work this evening." "This evening?" "Just be there before midnight, Bonnie. With the *completed* product," Lacroix warned her, then turned on his heel. "Oh," he added as he stopped and looked back at her for a brief moment, "I think we need pencils. Don't come empty handed." "No, sir," Bons replied, wondering what Jules had gotten her into. Normally, Bons wouldn't be caught dead doing accounting. Considering LaCroix's new state of health, if she didn't do accounting, she'd be caught dead. Funny how these unexpected career moves happen, eh? His final addendum for the Scribe was foreboding. "And make sure the pencils are recycled." "Is there any other kind?" Inwardly, Bonnie was panicking - working for LaCroix, and she didn't have Jules' pitching arm!!! What would become of her!?!?! "And Ms. Elmore?" Patt jumped, not realizing how nervous she had become. After getting used to a mortal LaCroix, having a potential death threat as her idol was rather disconcerting. Trembling, she waited. "I understand that the Grand High Problem had your official sanction to assume control of the NA war storyline while you engaged in a dalliance out of town, leaving your soul in the control of the Vaqueras. Is that correct?" Patt gulped. "Actually, it was business, Sir," she finally managed to say. "Had to go learn some legal stuff for the real life thing." "I see," LaCroix said, turning his gaze on the Scribe again. "I understand Bonnie was somewhat to blame, too, as she suggested Laurie as an alternate helpmate." Bonnie opened her mouth several times, but no explanation issued forth, leaving her looking like a landed trout. Suddenly, Bons began to babble. "She's really quite trustworthy for a being of unspeakable evil. Overwhelming greed non-withstanding, her Grand High Poobahliciousness has a vicious, goal-oriented streak that rather reminds me of of you, sir. That must be why NA can't keep away from her Mercenary Mightiness - she's the closest thing you get to a master vampire without being a master *or* a vampire..." Abruptly, and belatedly, remembering that she needed to keep her remaining kidney in the near future, Bons turned slightly green. "Did I just say that aloud?...Uhm, know where I can get some recycled pencils?" she said in a last breathless hurrah. LaCroix stared at the wordy Scribe for a long, cold minute. Finally, he said that one word that guarantees to send shivers down an addict's spine, partly in lust, partly in bewildered confusion because they don't know whether this word means 'A Good Thing' or 'A Bad Thing.' "Indeed." *shiver**shiver**shiver* LaCroix turned back to Patt. "As you all know, the construction is finished, but not up to the original specifications." "Yeah, I noticed the canal didn't come through," Patt commented. "Too bad. . . Jules really liked the canal idea." "Precisely," LaCroix intoned. "When my leaders fail me, they do not deserve rewards. When they please me, the compensation is memorable. Patt, I'm giving you the room that was reserved for Jules, including the Sacred Private Billiards Room." The Third Cousin's jaw dropped open in amazement. Bonnie opened her mouth again, as though to protest, but LaCroix silenced her with a glare. "Pencils," the Scribe mumbled. "Gotta remember the (recycled) pencils." "And, Patt . . ." LaCroix said. The Third Cousin swallowed hard. "Um, yes?" she stuttered. "Get that tapestry cleaned, if you would be so kind. I saw dust on my 'knee'." Patt leaned over to Bons. "How come I always get the good jobs?" she asked. "Just lucky, I guess," Lacroix whispered in Patt's ear. He'd moved with vampiric speed and was now standing behind the duo once again. Yes, things had returned to normal. Once their heartbeats had slowed down a bit, the General added, "There's no rush on it. That tapestry is looking a bit shop-worn, anyway. With the completion of the renovations at hand, I have decided to commission a new tapestry for this sanctuary -- one more appropriate to its renewed grandeur." "Ooooooo," said one Addict. "Ahhhhhh," said another. "Oh, mama," said Supaige as she elbowed Caren. "That's good news, isn't it? "Do you think he'll pose for it?" Monica whispered. "Can we watch?" She nudged Shele in the ribs. Shele turned her gaze back from the tapestry, which she'd been staring at ever since LC had hoisted it up. she thought fleetingly, immediately distracted by thoughts of Nunkies posing for a new tapestry. And, it really didn't matter if somewhere in Toronto others were gloating, thinking they had defeated the members of Nunkies Anonymous. At this time and place, their walls and hearts were full. The Addicts were happy. And so was the GHP. Who was trying very hard to get the last word in an NA post. But she wouldn't. Cause Bons edited her out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The end From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIa7-0002u4-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:58:08 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3613; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:54:27 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8401; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:54:28 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:56:26 -0500 Reply-To: br1035@IX.NETCOM.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: NA: The Party's Over Now (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a7779b90405c816c166768c82805bb17 WAR: NA: The Party's Over Now (01/01) by Cousin Jules, with much appreciated assistance from Third Cousin Patt and the GHP Place: CERK Time: Sunday, August 29, 1999, 11:45 p.m. to midnight ************************* Jules sharpened the last of the recycled pencils and placed it in the holder on her desk, point side down. At least Bons would appreciate her small efforts. Pulling out her top desk drawer, she found and discarded a few old candy wrappers and some overused paperclips, and slipped the few pennies she found into her change purse. She closed the drawer with an audible 'click,' then sat for a moment, staring at the Nightcrawler picture that graced her desk. The one which most definitely was not going with her. No doubt about it: Jules had had better days. Or nights, rather. Standing, she closed her briefcase and began to search for her car keys when she heard the familiar whoosh of air. She raised her eyes to see what she expected: Lacroix lounging against the door, arms crossed. "Going somewhere, Jules?" he inquired in his usual velvety tones. "Gosh, how could you tell?" she asked as she hefted the purse over her right shoulder. Lacroix was in front of her in a nanosecond, with a look that some might have called intimidating. "I prefer it if you answer me, not ask another question." "Sorry," the on-hiatus High Priestess of Nunkies said without a trace of sincerity. "I guess I'm just too good of a student, and I've had a 'master' to teach me the fine art of 'avoidance.'" "True," the vampire answered, "but in this case, I somehow doubt the student will surpass the master." "Didn't I just say I was...Oh, never mind." Jules was too tired to argue. She knew Lacroix had heard her announcement at the Conversion Day festivities that she would be taking a little holiday from her Shrine and CERK responsibilities, although he had shown no reaction at the time. She should have known that he wouldn't just let her go. At least, not without getting in the last word. Plopping herself down in her chair, she kicked off her non-sensible shoes and tucked her legs under her, hoping it wasn't going to be *too* long of a night. Maybe if she closed her eyes really, really tight... "I don't think the Fanfic Fairies are going to rescue you from a weak plot device, Jules," Lacroix told her as he seated himself on the edge of her desk and again crossed his arms, "the GHP will no longer be meddling in Addict story lines, and Vachon has been removed from Patt's hard drive, so..." Jules let out a sigh and ran a hand over her tired eyes. "Ha. Vachon will *always* be in Patt's hard drive. All I'm trying to do is get out of this War peacefully..." "You still haven't answered my question," Lacroix interrupted as he placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Yes, I'm *going* somewhere. I'm going to Monte." "Is this someone I should know?" he asked in a predatory fashion. The ex-Personal Assistant rolled her eyes. "Not 'someone,' just *somewhere*." The light of understanding dawned in Lacroix's blue eyes. "I didn't take you for the gambling type, Jules." "Who said anything about gambling? We're talking about sun, beaches, gorgeous Frenchmen. *Real* Frenchmen. No more Italians with pseudonyms," she said meaningfully. "But, hark!" she continued poetically, and, with her terrible histrionic tendencies, sat up in her chair and raised a hand to cup one ear. "Who's that I hear approach?" This time, it was Lacroix's turn to roll his eyes. A few seconds later, the NA Scribe/HP Stand-In peered in the door. She looked very forlorn even without her Birkenstocks. It was a tragic site. The greasy Spaniard had invaded her personal space. And she had enjoyed it... "Bonnie!" Jules said, jumping up and running past Lacroix to get to her. "Come on in and have a seat," she told her fellow Addict. "I'm glad you arrived before I left. Do you have any questions about the job?" "I have one question, Jules," Bons said, looking up at Jules like a tiny, helpless animal. "Yes?" "How in the expletive-deleted could you do this to me???!!!" "Maybe she can tell both of us, Bonnie," Lacroix told the Scribe sympathetically, then turned back to Jules. "For starters, I don't recall granting you permission to leave." "You don't, eh?" Jules asked, as she was removing her hands from covering her ears. She set down her briefcase, opened it, and pulled out a document that had the word 'Contract' spelled across the top in big, bold letters. "Let's turn to Section 3, paragraph 2, entitled, 'Jules' Oh-So-Important Provisos.'" She then turned and looked at the readers and added, "I haven't worked around lawyers for 13 years for nothin'!" Turning back to the story, she read, "'Whenever she wants, Jules can run off and appoint someone to take over her CERK and Shrine duties.' How's that for legal mumbo jumbo?" "Not enough jumbo, I'd say," Bons volunteered, as she put her now non-sensible shoe-clad feet up on the desk. "Yes," agreed Lacroix, "at least if it had been written for lawyers instead of the 'common man,' I could be twisting the meaning from here till Doomsday." Jules said nothing, only smiled enigmatically. "See ya," she said, depositing the Jag's keys in Lacroix's outer coat pocket and patting it. "I can't keep my ride waiting," she added, causing Lacroix's eyebrows to lift. "And this would be?" he inquired. "Oh, nobody important," Jules replied, trying hard not to grin. She turned when she reached the door. "Bonnie, I've left a small present for you in the bottom right hand drawer of the desk. I figured I owed you something for being such a good sport about this. Toodles, all." With that, Jules waved and was gone, and all that was left of her was the tapping of her 4-inch heels as she headed out of CERK. Bonnie slowly pulled out the drawer and retrieved a letter-sized envelope. Opening it, she retrieved a piece of paper containing Jules' cursive script. She read the contents aloud. "Dearest Bonnie, For all the trials and tribulations you've had to endure this War, I enclose the following. Oh, and don't do anything *I* wouldn't do. Your Friend in Addiction, Jules." "What did she leave you?" Lacroix asked. "Oh, my," Bonnie said as she pulled a small ticket from the envelope. "Jules redeemed an extra PTD coupon that I apparently left laying around at the Shrine. It seems she was able to procure a spell...from the Fanfic Fairies..." Bons reached behind her neck and felt under her hair. "What's wrong?" the Ancient inquired. "You didn't let Vachon get *that* close, did you?" Bons said nothing, only stood up, obviously in a state of surprise. "My air valve's gone!" "Is that all? Thank goodness," Lacroix said, relieved. "I fully expected you to deflate, and I can't have that. I need an assistant. Now," he continued as he picked up a few stray CD's on Jules ex-desk, then took his temporary assistant by the hand and, as he looked deep into her eyes, kissed it, saying "I think it's time I teach you all about this job, don't you?" End 01/01 ***************** KnightGal@aol.com From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIbG-0006fV-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:59:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3628; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:56:35 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8574; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:56:35 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 20:55:52 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Consolation To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a197379692701ef06581a01a5d4f8833 Knighties: Consolation by Chris Rosmini Sunday evening the Loft Nick and Natalie used with permission Nick had been saying farewells to Knighties most of the day, sending them back to their families, back to their normal worlds, back to their lives. These little losses, the partings from friends he had every expectation of seeing again, had served to keep him distracted from the Big Loss, from Hope given and taken away, and he occasionally wondered just how that was going to feel when he was back to normal. That is to say, alone in this great echoing space with all the laughter and worry and sheer human life drained out of it, for half of every day for the foreseeable future. Oh, he truly relishes his solitude. Mostly. He is a tidy creature, and it's nice to have his bathroom to himself again, and it would take weeks to straighten things out at work. But this time he hadn't been the one on the outside watching his human friends at play. He had been right in there with them. He had been one of them. He had been human. And he couldn't imagine how much that was going to hurt when he had to face it alone. He'd have Chris here occasionally to check on the garden, and that was surely a connection to Life in itself. But a slightly sad one too, with it's night blooming this and nocturnal that, and the Sunflowers he would only be able to see on the video monitor. The neatly restored kitchen was going to remind him for a long time that he might never again share the pleasures of eating with mortal friends, although the memories would be sweet. And the thing that was going to hurt most when the busyness anesthesia wore off was that he had truly believed for a moment in time that he could offer something worth having to Nat. Offer himself as a mortal who could perhaps live and love and grow old with her. Who could walk in the sunlight with her, and walk in the Light. He wouldn't really blame her if she gave up on him after this. Her disappointment must be as great as his own, greater perhaps, since it would be disappointment in him as well as the shattering of a dream. That dream wasn't the first in his quest for salvation, or the first he had lost, but right now, maybe forever, it would be the hardest to give up. And it was the one that was occupying his mind when he heard the elevator start it's climb. He looked up when the door slid open, wondering idly who would be arriving on a day of goodbyes and departures. And the two watchers in the radio room above, caught their breaths as Natalie Lambert walked into the Loft, smiling a little sadly at the man, the vampire, who walked toward her with all his heart in his eyes. She reached out to touch his cheek, and then without a word she took him in her arms. And they quietly turned off the cameras, one by one. From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIbg-00024F-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:59:45 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2498; Sun, 29 Aug 99 23:56:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8594; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:56:40 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:55:01 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: WAR: MERCS: Pee You, F. Hugh! (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 34c927ac4e95fd6d9ecaa07dd8ed0543 WAR: MERCS: Pee You, F. Hugh! by Laurie Mercbard with thanks to Patt Elmore Place: Merc Central Time: Friday afternoon Invading NA posts was not all it was cracked up to be. The Grand High Poobah's plan had hit a snag. The NA leaders were back, and at the moment, all she had to show for her pains last evening was a big pain in the head. During the bar fight, she'd managed to avoid injury for 11 segments, but at the last moment, Patt had somehow invaded her personal story space and conked her over the head with a bottle, knocking her out cold. Memory came flooding back. F. Hugh! Her evil fan fic fairy was history. Gone. Kaput. Lunch. Literally. Lunch. she thought, but was not soothed. * * * A few hours later ... *Poof* A cloud appeared in front of the Poobah's desk, leaving a trail of liquid and gook as it flitted about. Two little FanFic fairy eyes peered out, and the MINI-VOICE began squeaking in complaint. Something about suddenly finding himself in a toilet bowl. On a sea of beer. In the bathroom of a dive bar halfway between Toronto and Calgary. Laurie looked up and noticed the cloud. But more than that, she noticed the smell. Something was rotten in the state of Poobah. "Pee You, F. Hugh!" Laurie said, holding her nose, and showing not a speck of surprise at his re-emergence. "You stink! Go take a bath! NOW!" F. Hugh flitted away, happy to be home again. - finis From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIi6-000380-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:06:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3850; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:03:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0164; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:02:27 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:04:58 -0700 Reply-To: "Shana N." Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Shana N." Subject: WAR: DP: You Can Check Out Anytime You Want, But.. To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ae271f98af154bf5a46b89030cff7a3a WAR: DP: You Can Check Out Anytime You Want, But... PLace/Time: DP Mansion, 11:59 pm EST by Shana Nolan ************************ Mary, Tracy, Ren and Shana stood just oustide the DP Mansion, waving good-bye to the last departing DP. Ren bit her lip. Mary smacked her. "No crying... they'll be back." Tracy sighed and wondered if the three Thugs would get used to the silent mansion once more. And then Shana ran for the stereo in the ballroom and hit play on the CD player, pumping up the volume. Suddenly Don Henley was belting out "Hotel California." Tracy grinned. "Guess not." And then the four joined together (and shattered a few windows in the process) singing along with the Eagles as they chorused: "You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave." *************************** --fin-- Shana, dpangel@thegrid.net the Darth Perk Angel, DP 2nd in Command From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIiu-0005Vf-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:07:12 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5643; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:03:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0260; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:02:49 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:08:03 -0700 Reply-To: Teresita Tazon Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Teresita Tazon Organization: Forever Knight-Vaquera w/ T&V tendencies Subject: WAR: VAQS; A Smackeral of Honey or Where Can Rae Bee? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 1c1645ed22649fe47727fea02e7ab017 WAR: VAQS A Smackeral of Honey or Where Can Rae Bee? By Teresita, Vaq Scribe #1 Friday Aug. 20, 1999 approx. 9:30 p.m. The Vaq-Occupied Shrine, and the Hive This follows VAQS: "Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Cat Gone" and comes in near the end of UF: "A Honey of a Day" All UFers used with their leader's permission A Smackeral of Honey or Where Can Rae Bee? By Teresita, Vaq Scribe #1 Vachon was talking softly to Carmecita as Scott held the recently rescued kitty in his arms. Scott realized that there were certain cats he *might* actually be fond of. "Y'all did a fine job of rescuing the cats." Scott complimented the Vaquera Cat Squad, just as Sarah walked into the room. Sarah was holding a small, slender plastic tube between her thumb and index finger. It was about 6" long and sealed at both ends. It appeared to have a viscous golden fluid contained inside of it. "Look at this. I have no idea what it is." She passed the tube around so everyone could see it. "I've seen these before," Teresita stated. "It's a honey-stick. Gerry, my husband, brought a couple home one time." She took the stick from Sarah and held the end out to her Vaq Wonder Twin. Felicia knew what was needed, and whipped out her Kenpo Butterfly Knife, deftly slicing the tip off the tube. A drop of the amber-gold liquid oozed out. Vachon reached out and caught the sticky substance on the tip of his finger. He raised his finger, and looked at the honey for a moment before bringing the tip of his tongue to his finger to try his first taste of honey. This caused several Vaqueras to catch their breaths, but they remembered this was a PG-13 War and so quickly controlled themselves. "Tastes pretty good," said Javier as he ate more of the honey. "Where'd you get this, Sarah? Can we get some more?" "Actually, I found it out by our 'designated smoking area'. I think the only ones to be found in Toronto are in the possession of the UFers." Sarah answered Vachon with a rueful smile. Melissa offered, "Rae knows the UFers, maybe she can get some." "Speaking of Rae... I haven't seen her since this morning," Tracy Sue noted. "Where is she?" asked the Vaqmadre, feeling responsible for her Troops. "I haven't seen her since she headed out to have a smoke early this morning," said Tammy. "I've been putting the finishing touches on the Pitted Peach for tomorrow's Karaoke Night. She was supposed to help me, but I couldn't find her," voiced Echo. "Hmm..." Tabitha thought out loud. "No one has seen Rae since early this morning... Sarah finds a UFer honey-stick in the last spot we know Rae was... Rae knows the UFers... What's this sound like to you guys?" "Kidnapping!" the Vaq Wonder Twins shouted. "I'm sure that must be it," Cliff said. "We have to rescue her." "There's no telling what those Ufers have done to her," Melissa worried. "Cliff's right," Vachon spoke up. "Scott," Javier turned to the latest person to fall for Carmecita's deep throated purr, "Would you take care of Carmecita if I go on this little mission? She really likes you, and I want to know she's safe." "Sure thing, Javier. Don't mind at all. In fact, I think she likes me." Scott gave a wry smile as Carmecita did the "happy paws" thing on his arm, which happened to be covered by his favorite shirt. "Anything to help a fellow Vaq," he grimaced as he tried to disengage Carmecita's claws. "Okay, let's head for the Hive." Vachon marshaled his troops. "By the way, Javs. They may have great honey, but *don't* eat anything they might offer you. In fact, all of you make a 'beeline' back to the bikes, if they bring out food." Tracy Sue warned her Vaqs. "How come TS?" Teresita forever needed to know the whys and wherefores of everything. It had started when she learned to talk at age two, and the habit had driven several people bonkers over her lifetime. Tracy Sue was once again patient in her answering, "There's this UFer; I think Rae said her name is Susan. She means well with her cooking, but let's just say it's better for your health if you steer clear of her food." The Vaqs murmured their agreement of this as they reached their motorcycles. They mounted up, put on their helmets, and started their machines. The big Triumphs roared toward the Hive. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ About a half a block from the Hive, Vachon pulled to the curb. The Vaquero/as followed suit. "I think we should sneak up on them," Vachon voiced his opinion. "A surprise attack, catch them unaware. I like that idea," Tracy Sue added. "That would great..." Teresita started. "If there was a way to do that," Felicia finished. "They have a lot of open space around the Hive," clarified Tabitha. "They can see any approach," Melissa pointed out. "Then we just ride up to the door," Emma said practically. They hit the road again, and were soon in front of the Hive. They could hear a dog barking madly, and saw a face or two look out the windows. It was apparent the UFers had been alerted by the deep growl of several motorcycle engines, as well as by the smaller growl of their dog, Tybalt. Vachon and his Troops headed boldly up to the front door of the Hive. "They saw us pull up. They must know why were here. I say we just demand they release Rae!" Echo cried adamantly. Echo had no sooner spoken those words than the doors swung open. Stepping inside Vachon rushed towards a honey-drenched Rae. "Vachon!! Thank goodness you've come to rescue me!" Rae shouted, as she hobbled swiftly towards her astonished faction. Several Vaqs could be heard above the confused buzz of voices with questions such as "What is going here?", "Rae, are you all right?", "Why are you tied up *and* covered in honey?", and "What's with the honey pot?" Thinking fast, Felicia pulled out her Butterfly Knife again and went to work at the ropes wrapped around Rae's legs. Unfortunately, this threw Rae off balance, causing her sticky self to fall right into Vachon's arms. In a valiant attempt to keep from spilling the pot of honey that had been thrust upon her by a helpful UFer, Rae only succeeded in dumping it over Vachon's head as they both fell into a tangled heap. "Nice to see a couple stick together like that, isn't it?" Jules said. Just then Susan came out with a tray of freshly baked biscuits. "Come and get-um folks!!!" Needless to say; Rae, Vachon, and the Vaqueros ran out of there as quickly as possible. Running straight for the bikes, the Vaqs started them without delay. "Who do I ride with?" a drippy, gooey Rae asked worriedly. Mind-melts were not needed as the Vaquero/as cried out in unison, "VACHON!" Vachon brushed his honeyed hair out of his eyes, as he said "Come on, Rae. Ride with me. My bike and me are already sticky." Rae giggled at the sweetly-coated slacker. "Well, at least honey is better for your hair than cotton-candy-colored pink dye." "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just get on, okay?" Jav complained good-naturedly as Rae settled herself behind him. Vachon smiled to himself as he licked his fingers and started the motorcycle. He really didn't mind the honey that was on him or the one riding with him. He liked them both. -fin- Teresita, a Troublesome "T" Vaq Brat and Proud of It!, VWT, Vaq Scribe #1 "Come on, hit me with your best shot! Fire away!" "Mi alma es Vaquera"="My soul is Vaquera" ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIjM-0006yQ-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:07:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3902; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:05:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1142; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:05:16 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:04:31 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Garden State To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 798de5cb863f8c930ce0f73627a9eb59 Knighties: Garden State by Chris Rosmini The Roof of the Loft Afternoon, Sunday August 29 Nick used with permission "I thought for a while there I was going to get to re-plant this with sunflowers." Roz said with a wry smile. She waved a gloved hand at the battered flower beds. "I would have really liked that, but I guess it's back to night blooming Jasmine." She sat down on the stone wall of one of those same beds and looked up at the tall vampire who was playing with one of the intricate bells of a double Datura. "So what was this about? "Not the War," she said at his lifted eyebrow, "God knows if we'll ever understand that, I mean The Garden." She crossed her legs and rested her hands in her lap prepared to wait for his answer. "You told me it was a way of hiding the fact you were installing the War security system, but there's more to it than that isn't there? I mean more behind it. I know there's more _to_ it, you've fitted this place for a siege." He smiled at her body language, accepting that there was No Escape this time, and leaned back against the wall of the garden house, crossing his arms. "I guess I have. It was something Sandra said last time, about being prepared for the time I succeed in finding my mortality, about protecting myself and ... anyone with me." He looked away for a moment. "She meant being ready to run, to move on, having a safe place to go to. To hide." He paused. "If I ...when I become mortal again I want to live, not spend my days hiding from sight, I've done enough of that for eternity." Umm she said, "So I built you a misdirection" "No, I'm afraid you built me a manifesto." He smiled, nodding at the great pots of Angel's Trumpet and Honesty, the cruciform path, a shape from his family's, his real family's, insignia. He traced a long finger over a bit of carving. "But I'm not sure I'll live up to it the way you imagine." he said gently. "You and the Knighties. I'm not what LaCroix wants me to be. And I never will be." He took a long breath. "Giving me a taste of life backfired there." He turned to face her squarely. "But I'm not exactly what you want me to be either. And I don't think I ever will be." "I want you to be good and brave and hopeful. And you are those things." "Sometimes" he said, and let the matter drop. "Is it really so different?" "Mortality?" He walked a little into the garden, moonlight turning his golden curls to silver. "Oh yes." he said with a little laugh. "It's life, feeling life every second." He turned to face her again "Will you do something for me?" "Anything" she said. He looked around his garden and said "Will you plant those Sunflowers anyway." From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIjx-00072A-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:08:17 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5713; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:05:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1287; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:05:36 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:11:54 -0700 Reply-To: Shele Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shele Subject: WAR: NA: Attack of the Not-So-Vestal-Virgins II - Beyond Thunder Road To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: c6989ef74662c2b3197828e143b383c8 Title: Attack of the Not-So-Vestal-Virgins II - Beyond Thunder Road Faction: Nunkies Anonymous Written by: Shele Date/Time: Saturday afternoon, 3-4pm After Attack of the Not-So-Vestal-Virgins (which went out w/out the WAR header - sorry!) Before any of the NAers go to the MacCousin's party Permission granted by participants/factions. A Rollicking Tale of Espionage, Breaking, And Entering "What's with them?" Dee nodded at Bram and Christina, who were standing off to one side of the dining room giggling madly. "Who? Oh. They've been sampling each other's wares." Dee looked at Glennis. "And they're still with us?! Well, I guess they do look a little green around the gills. Gills?!" Glennis shrugged. "Evidently Whammy juice and Newt cookies, when taken together, produce a strange side-effect." "Huh. Are they supposed to be part of this Rollicking Tale? I mean, like *that*?" "Not really, but Shele wanted to make sure they ended up friends after the face off they had at the Assembly. They're supposed to be tracking the GHP, but since that thread's even futher behind than this one, they're just hanging around." "Gotcha! That gill effect is temporary, I hope. Gotta remember that nothing permanent happens in these Wars!" Sukh appeared with Roy, Roy the Buff Slave Boy in tow. "Don't I know it! If things could be permanent, we wouldn't have to go through these factional.... upheavals every time." Glennis tried not to stare at the leash and collar that linked Sukh and her new friend. "Right. Yeah. I think the gill thing only lasts an hour or so. They've been redosing themselves all morning." Supaige walked up to the buffet. "Hey Sukh! How's the agility training going?" "Great! We were really able to improve Roy, Roy's time with those tips that Patt gave us. He's still having some problems with the tunnel crawl, but he's getting there. Aren't you, Roy, Roy?" Roy, Roy grinned broadly and flexed a little. "Sukh, I thought agility training was for dogs." "I'm surprised at you, Dee. That's such a speciest thing to say! Please apologize to Roy, Roy the Buff Slave Boy." Dee apologized for her thoughtless comment and received a soft-spoken 'Thank you' in return. "Hey, you two want to go with us to the CotK cottage? I mean, the three of you -- Roy, Roy's included of course!" "Sure Glennis, we'd love to come -- are they having a party?" "Party? Cool, I'd like to go, too!" Added Supaige. "Weeeeelll, it's not exactly a party..." Glennis explained what Team Holo-ACK! was doing and the five of them walked over to the pingpong table Glennis had so artfully turned into a relief map of Toronto. No sooner had they arrived at the pingpongmap than who should appear but Shele, the Not-So-Masterful-Writer of this Rollicking Tale. [Who just realized that Part One was sent out without the WAR header -- Doh!] Waving around her sparkly wand, she started barking out orders like Patton. Okay, not really Patton. She was just barking and growling at the map. She gets like that sometimes. Best to just let her go. Honestly. Maybe give her a little treat or something nice. Watch your hands though, the unwary have lost a finger or two. Soon, our merry band of planksters [I blame it on too much time with the construction crew] had taken possession of an automobile, it may have been their own vehicles for all I know, and were on their way to the Cottage of the Cousins of the Knight of the Fovever Knight show. Fortunately for our gang, the Cousins of the Knight were, at that very moment, leaving their tidy little cottage for a tour of the Toronto sights. Even more fortunate, was the fact that, as soon as the Cottage's alarm system had finished its arming countdown, the display started flashing the ominous message "Comm Fail Rte #1" That's right! Not only had the entire faction left the premises, their alarm system had failed! Are the Not-So-Vestal-Virgins lucky or what?! If we had been allowed a better look at the war map, we'd have some idea of how long it took Team Holo-ACK! to arrive at its destination. Alas, we have only the basic idea that it took 'some time'. Finding the Cottage abandoned, Holo-ACK! made its way to the interior. Searching out the second story living quarters, Glennis, Supaige and Dee went to each room and hid the presents they'd bought. In one room, Dee found a cache of junk food, hidden from the prying eyes of the room's occupant, no doubt -- Insert dolls; in another room, it was almost too difficult to find a place to hide anything, everything was so neat -- she finally put the dolls under the pillow. Glennis found a room full of Star Wars things and was glad Shele hadn't come along, since the utter lack of Darth Maul accessories would have had her doing worse things than barking. Another room was like a vacation to South America and wondered if the occupant knew Cousin Cherri. Hiding the dolls in those rooms was easy since there were tons of decorations throughout each of the rooms. Supaige wondered how she got conned into tagging along, but thought she might as well play along. One of the rooms she went into was obviously that of an NAer. She stood gazing at the likenesses of Nunkies spread liberally through the room then just propped the dolls up on the bed. The other room was so fanastical, Supaige didn't know how to being describing it. She placed the dolls in an out of the way place, then went back to the stairwell to meet the rest of the team. Who, instead of being by the stairs were standing in front of two locked doors. Having been told that there were six members of the CotK in this War, they were a little worried that they had under bought for this adventure. Finally they decided that, if you locked your door it was your own fault you didn't get surprise presents. On the ground floor, Christy and Jesse went about redecorating. Pictures and knickknacks in the kitchen cupboards. Cereal, sugar and other staples went out to the coffee and occassional tables. Downstairs, in the basement of the Cottage, Sukh and Roy, Roy, the Buff Slave Boy took time out from the agility training, to investigate the rooms down there. One appeared to be a bedroom and so Sukh called up the stairwall for a set to be tossed down. Once she hidden the dolls, she noticed the cue and dart cases and hoped this person wasn't some secret friend of Jules and Bons. Certain that all the dolls had been placed, Sukh and Roy, Roy continued to investigate the basement. As they went into a white tiled, incredibly cold room, Roy, Roy tripped over a carelessly placed cord. Okay, carelessly placed if you insist on crawling under tabled. Seeing that his actions had caused the cord to become unplugged from the wall, Sukh reached down and pushed the connector in. Klaxons started blaring and heretofore unseen red lights started flashing. "Oops." "EVERYBODY OUT!" Charl, or "Wheels" as we call her, gunned the motor as the NSVVs climbed in. Fortunately for Team Holo-ACK!, Charl had the motor good and warmed up since she'd been acting as look out during the foray. They were able to speed down the alley onto the lane that lead to the street that had an on-ramp to the highway. For, as they knew, Sukh had indeed set off the Cottage's security system and not one of them had any doubts that the CotK were, at this very moment, speeding back to their home. Unfortunately for Team Holo-ACK!, since Wheels had left the motor running since they were mischiefing, they were very *putt* low *putputt* on *ppputt* gas *pppttt*. As their car forward motion ceased to be significant, a car crested the hill in front of them. Most of the occupants seemed to be involved in some kind of excited debate, but the driver was looking intently at the stranded NSVVs. Suddenly, Supaige had a brainstorm. "Get out! Get out!!" She opened the door next to Roy, Roy and started pushing him. Roy, Roy, being the Buff Slave Boy that he is, was unmoved by her prodding. Wise gal that she is, Supaige started kicking him too. Sukh finally had enough. "What are you doing? I thought you liked Roy, Roy! Oh, wait! I get it -- Quick Roy, Roy -- Do your Buff Slave Boy bit!" And that is how, as the slow moving CotK car passed by, the driver never got a good look at the women cowering inside the stopped car. * * * Kyer spotted the car by the side of the road and was just paranoid to be sure that it contained NAers. She tried to get a second opinion, but the rest of the group was too involved in their debate about which season had the best overall percentage of CotK-ish episodes. As she passed the stopped car, she started to crane her neck for a better view. Her back went stiff and her eyes remained glued to the road in front of her. She thought as all thoughts of NA vengeance left her mind. Lisa, however, being the NAer of the group, took stock of the sight of Roy, Roy, the Buff Slave Boy and knew his appearance did not bode well. Once they got into the Cottage, they were quick to realize that someone had been there touching their stuff. Who, didn't require much of a guessing game, since there was a large note on the kitchen table. "Next time, we'd like some muffins, too." Someone had added in a different hand, "And don't forget that some of us watch what we eat!" * * * P.S. Jesse used her Snixco phone to call AAA for towing service. ***** End: Attack of the Not-So-Vestal-Virgins II - Beyond Thunder Road From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIp9-0007Ht-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:13:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4010; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:11:20 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3970; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:11:20 -0400 Date: Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:12:40 EDT Reply-To: NewCousin@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Christy Stillman Subject: WAR: NA: A Fond Farewell (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 25841a552c17088aa5ab6ed722c0e5cf Title: A Fond Farewell (1/1) Author: Christy Stillman Place: The Shrine, at War's End Note: Everybody used with permission. Christy tried to hold back the tears as she hugged Dee and Glennis again. The taxi driver was beginning to get impatient. "So, you're not going home after all?" Glennis asked. "Nope. The university has assigned me to assist one of our profs who's on loan to the University of Toronto. He needs an extra pair of eyes for research and ten nimble fingers for typing his manuscript," Christy replied. "I'm gonna miss y'all so much," Dee said. "Me too." "Me too." "Oh, you two get in the taxi and get to the airport before I start bawling like a baby, will ya?" Christy said, giving them her now-familiar lopsided grin. Waving to her friends as the taxi drove away, she felt the tears begin to fall. They were gone, and she would miss the other two-thirds of the Three Nunketeers horribly. The War was over. No more insane schedules. No more silliness to perpetrate or have perpetrated upon one. It was durn depressing. She turned back toward the newly remodeled Shrine. Well, at least she was still in Toronto, and she was going to be able to spend some quality time at the Shrine. Wiping her tears away, she walked toward a new chapter in her life, and who knew what it might hold? From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:17 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LIxZ-0007Y9-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:22:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5918; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:20:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5337; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:20:02 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:21:24 -0700 Reply-To: Liz the Lucky Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Liz the Lucky Subject: WAR: Nothers/Mercs: A Nother Ghost Story To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 48489a492339dc0574bb8fc44b2a6b13 Title: A Nother Ghost Story Written by: Liz and Kat, with help from NightDancer Date Wednesday the 25th/Thursday the 26th, Midnight (sorry this is so late) Place: Le Chateau des Autres All participants and created characters used by permission. A Nother Ghost Story Promptly, at 11:50, four mercs, all still in chocolate ecstasy from Andre's latest creation, entered le Chateau des Autres. "So what exactly happens at a seance, Liz?" Gubs was asking. "Not sure exactly," Liz answered. "But between Nichole and Elladara, we should be covered if something bad comes through." "Great, I think," Beth said. "I thought Nicole was the maid," Mildred noted. "She is," Liz agreed. "But she also has a way with spirits." Just then the maid in question entered the room. "Everyone's here?" she asked. "Good. Then we can get started." She led them into up into the Library, where they found the Nothers already seated at a large round table. Kat immediately pulled out the chair next to her for her cyber-twin. "'Bout time you guys showed up," she said. "You can't hurry chocolate," Liz answered, sitting down. "True, very true," her chocoholic partner in crime replied. "Anyway, we're ready to start when you guys are." "Everyone sit with your hands on the table, touching the hands of those next to you," Nicole said. After a few "gee your hands are cold," and "yeah, well, yours are all clamy and gross" comments, everyone did as Nicole had instructed. The lights flickered and when out, accompanied by a chorus of 'oohs' and one 'I wanna go home'. The candles around the table burst into flame and Nicole began to speak. "Spirits of le Chateau des Autres, we bid you speak to us this eve," she said. "We have come seeking your guidance and your wisdom. Come forth and make your presence known!" Beth let out a low moan and began to speak, but since it was a private message for Mildred from her father, we're not including it in this post. After it was done, Beth slumped over and slowly lifted her head up. "What happened?" "You turned into Mildred's Dad," NightDancer answered. "And without benefit of Jerry Springer," Kat added. At the dirty looks that one got her, she shrugged. "Hey, just 'cause I believe in ghosts and like ghosts doesn't mean even the nice ones don't make me nervous." "You mean holding my hand's not enough?" Liz teased. "Why do you think I only made one smart ass comment instead of running off at the mouth?" Kat replied, winking at her friend. "I don't believe in ghosts, except in fanfic," Nightdancer said. "Good thing this is fanfic," Fleurette commented. Before NightDancer could answer, Beth moaned again. "I think we're getting another guest," Fleurette commented. "Maybe we should start charging a special ghost rate," Kat suggested. "Only if it's a Mercenary ghost," Mildred, the Merc Mommie General, said. Well we are supposed to be a hotel," Fleurette pointed out. "But it's not like they can pay," NightDancer reminded her. But since I've been here since the seventh century, I'd hate to think of the back rent I'd owe you," Beth said in a very heavily accented voice. "The Chateau was around in the seventh century?" Gubs asked. "Well, it has been rebuilt a few times and changed ownership a time or two since my first days here, but more or less it has been," Beth answered. "Although it has been a long time since I've had such fun and lively company. If I'd known you all would be so acceptable to my kind, I would have made my presence known sooner. My name is Katya by the way." "Hi Katya," everyone said. Katya smiled warmly at them. "You've been a ghost for thirteen hundred years?" NightDancer asked. "Long time." Katya shrugged. "You get used to it after the first century or so," she replied. "Nick never did," Fleurette commented. "Nick's not a ghost," Liz reminded her. "Who's Nick?" Katya asked. "One of the local vampires," Kat shrugged. "He tends to angst a lot." "How utterly dreadful," Katya replied. "Personally I've found that since there's not much I can do about being a ghost, I've just learned to deal with it. Besides, I kind of enjoy being able to float through doors." "Do you think we should introduce Katya to Nick sometime?" Liz suggested. "Maybe she could possess him or something." "Ewww," Fleurette shuddered. "Don't even mention something like that." Katya wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I'd actually enjoy that very much quite frankly," she replied. "As it is I feel terrible about having to borrow this young lady's body but it's been so long since I've manifested physically that I've sort of forgotten how to do it." "Can't you just ... think your way solid?" Gubs asked. "I don't actually get solid," Katya answered. "It's more like you can see me, but you can see through me too. Classic ghost stuff as one of my previous charges pointed out to me." "Then you need ectoplasm," Mildred realized. "I know where you can get some, for a price." "What sort of price?" Katya asked, curious. "Not sure." The wheels in the Merc Mommie General's heads spun wildly. "Why don't we put this on account in case we ever need you to haunt someone. Of course, you'll have to come back to Merc Central in Beth to pick up the ectoplasm." "I don't know if I can do that," Katya replied. "I've only been able to leave the chateau inside a resident of the chateau before. I'm sort of sworn to protect them because of what happened and all." "Then why don't you move to me?" Liz offered. "I'm sort of a Nother, at least unofficially and I'm a Merc, so I can go back and forth." "Wonderful, all settled then," Katya replied, beaming. "And it would be nice to be able to go solid again, especially with the wee one on the way." Fleurette blushed. "You know about the baby?" Katya nodded. "It came with being a ghost, I was suddenly able to know the truth about everything," she answered. "Well, everything but my murder." "Murder!?" Gubs gulped. "Relax, by this time, the murderer probably dead," NightDancer reassured her. "I had my throat cut in my sleep, it was a terribly dreadful mess," Katya said. "And you're probably right, Miss Dancer, although they never were able to find out who did it." "Well, we know it wasn't a vampire," Kat reasoned. "Cutting throats would be such a waste." "Considering the sheets were utterly ruined with the blood stains I would tend to have to agree with her," Katya replied. "Unless it was Barnabus Collins," Liz half-joked. "But not only wasn't he born then, but then Katya would have been strangled. And anyway, that'd make it a crossover." "Ah Dark Shadows, delightful program," Katya replied. "You watch Dark Shadows?" NightDancer asked, eyebrow raised. Katya nodded. "I watch all kinds of television programs," she answered. "Of course, I have to wait for one of you all to turn on the television set before I can do, but I find it rather fascinating. Besides, who do you think found the remote for you last time it fell behind the couch?" "You?" Kat guessed. "That's right," Katya answered. "Finding and retrieving lost objects is another one of my new gifts." "But why'd you come to the chateau?" Fleurette asked. "Because my betrothed lived here of course," Katya answered. "Where else was I supposed to go?" "Is he here, too?" NightDancer asked, not sure if she liked the idea of a man, even as a ghost, being able to peek in on her whenever. Katya's face clouded over. "Unfortunately, no," she answered. "Things ... didn't work out very well for him after I was killed." "Awwwwwww. What happened?" Liz asked. "He blamed himself for my death so exactly one year to the day of my murder I manifested for the first time," Katya began to explain. "I wanted to assuage him of his guilt and tell him that it wasn't his fault, but he mistook my appearance to be a punishment and it drove him mad with guilt and fear until he finally took his own life." "Ouch," Kat agreed. "I wanted to tell him so badly that it wasn't his fault, but, well, you know how it was back then," Katya replied. "But even though I was killed before we could be wed, he brought me so much joy and happiness for the little time we were together. He took a simple street urchin who couldn't even remember her own past and turned her into a princess. And so what if he couldn't protect me? It wasn't like we even knew there was a threat upon my life. But now you all know why I quit manifesting to anyone over the age of ten." "Katya, why don't you move to me, in case anyone else wants to talk with us tonight?" Liz suggested. "All right, if you don't mind," Katya replied. Suddenly a warm glow lifted from Beth and settled into Liz. "How's this?" "Nice and cozy," Liz answered. "This could be fun." "Does this mean she can come to the Temple when the War's over?" Kat asked, mentioning that _other_ fandom she tended to play in. "We don't see why not. If you want me." "Hey, how come both Liz and Katya can talk when Beth couldn't?" Gubs asked. "It's the whole Elaine/Fleur thing," Kat explained. "Liz is used to dealing with multiple personalities and Beth isn't." "I'm sensing someone else coming," Nicole interrupted. "Someone ... unusual." "Oh dear," Katya replied. "I was afraid he might show up." A pair of shoes manifested on top of the table, followed quickly by the rest of a polyester disco suit. "Good lord!" Kat exclaimed. "Not even Schanke would be caught dead in something that hideous!" "Hey! Babes!" the man said. "Mario's here!" "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The women let out a blood curdling scream and ran out of the library as one mass. Except for Nicole, who simply ... disappeared. THE END Hugs and Kisses, Liz the Lucky FoD Merc luckyliz@mindspring.com Nanette Nother http://www.mindspring.com/~luckyliz Official Story Titler of the Nothers From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LJ7A-00061G-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:32:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4093; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:30:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6629; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:30:03 -0400 Date: Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:32:38 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: CGW/NA: "For a Year and a Day" -- note To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 50b5e5bfb3f1f4c94b9668bfebbd9652 I forgot to mention that in Auld Scotland, when "irregular" marriages (also known as "hand-fasting") were both common and legal, one could contract/vow for a trial marriage of one year, at which point the marriage would either be dissolved or made permanent. The vows for a permanent marriage included wording that bound the couple together "for a year and a day". Hence, the title of the post. In a public hand-fasting, the couple's hands would be tied together with a red ribbon as a symbol of their bond (hence, "tying the knot"). In the movie "Braveheart", this becomes the piece of red fabric which the priest wraps over William's and Murran's hands when he marries them, and which Murran carries in her breast afterwards. From this came the red cloth that MacHeather wears in "'Dunbar' Wallace". I wish I remembered the issue of "The Highlander" magazine in which this was explained, so I could give you a bibliographic resource to look up for more information... but I don't even remember where I put the photocopy I'd made several years ago for my personal use. ("The Highlander" is a magazine for the Scottish-American community and includes historical and genaeological information, calendars of Games, Clan events, and Scottish-American social events. It is totally unrelated to the Rysher movies and television series of that name.) Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:19 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LJ7k-00003u-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:32:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3195; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:19:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5297; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:19:43 -0400 Date: Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:22:15 -0400 Reply-To: "Brenda F. Bell" Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: NA/CGW/UF: "For a Year and a Day" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 24591b72484946071959d5462ff8ee83 WAR: NA/CGW/UF: "For a Year and a Day" by Brenda Bell Follows: "Step We Gaily, On We Go..." Brenda, Pen, Lora, Megan, MacHeather, Chris, and all the NAs are real and used by permission. The original Lucius and the vampbear are real but don't usually converse in people-speak. Young Lucius just might -- though he still looks and acts like a cat to everyone but the very young, the very old, and those who believe in Faeries. He is fictional. Jack Kerrigan, Father Andrew, and the rest of the Fiendish Glow regulars and staff are fictional and belong to the Fiendish Glow Since Granny Maire, Little Chris, and Little Heather are not yet twinklings in their multiple-great-grandparents' eyes, I don't think I need to worry about permissions for them (I hope). Sorry this is dropping a few minutes late, but the vampbear wouldn't shut up :) ********************* The Fiendish Glow, some time Sunday, August 29. ****************FLASH FORWARD***************** Some time in the long-distant future, at a Highland Games somewhere on the New Scotland colony ship, bound for a new world revolving around a distant star. "An' that's it?" the kilted child asked. "That's the whole thing?" "An' tha's the last note yer Great-great-great-great-great-grandmum left aboot it." "Nae, 'tisn't true, Granny Maire. Listen to Lucius, 'e has lots maire tae say aboat it." Maire rumpled the little boy's hair affectionately and scratched the cat between its ears. "Lucius may be wiser than we aire, Chris, but he's still a cat -- and cats are not known tae make their wisdom known tae humans." "Bu' he does, Granny Maire, he does!" Chris insisted. "Then maybe Lucius would like to tell us the story?" the silver-haired woman suggested. "Me too, me too! I wawnt tae hair th' story!" "You too, Haither," Maire allowed as the three of them sat on the station's lawn and shared fish and chips with the black kitten. Being sated with good food, the cat stretched, looking around against the possibility of intruders on their little tete-a-tete. Seeing none, he curled up on the boy's sporran and went to sleep. *****************END FLASHFORWARD********** "You're not going to write *that* in the journal, are you?" asked Lucius, Destroyer of Pens. "Why not?" the vampbear replied. "All fairy tales end with a 'happily ever after' -- why should MacHeather-and-Chris's be any different?" "Because we're supposed to be writing about what *has* happened, rather than what *will* happen -- or rather, what we hope will happen?" "'History is written by the victors,'" Nicolas quoted, trying to sound erudite. "Victors of what?" "Victors of love, I guess," the vampbear shrugged, taking a hit off his bottle. "I'd rather be a victor of pens and pencils," Lucius replied. "Which reminds me..." "When I'm *done*, cat -- when I'm done!" Nicolas waved him off. *Now, where to continue...* *************** >From the journals of Nicolas de Bearbant, vampbear: August 28 Well, Pen an' Brenda decided t' have this big party for MacCousin and Chris, and *we* weren't invited. Well, Lucius was, sort-of, but he was too busy playing with the wedding presents the newlyweds had brought him. Meanwhile, I was upstairs *starving*, you know? Anyway, I could hear the music from downstairs -- down *TWO FLIGHTS* of stairs. And it wasn't 'causa my vampbearic hearing, either. "The Atlantic Hens," I think Pen said they were called -- and boy did they cackle! I mean, I'm your average music-loving vampbear, gimme Snuggle commercials, Teddy Bear's Picnic, any sorta bear-lay, and I'm happy. An' I can deal with classical-type an' nature sounds as well, I mean, I've got a pretty bear'd appreciation a' music. Music, this wasn't. Except for the one time -- no, two times -- all the people got real quiet and started singing some sort of religious stuff. I'm a vampbear. I don't *do* religion. Apparently, neither did the customers -- when the band finished, they made so much noise that they woke up the Faer Ones living about a half-mile down from the subbasement. You *don't* want to waken a sleeping fairy, they get madder'n I do when someone wakes *me* up (not that I ever sleep, mind you, but when I do...) Anyway, there was lots of crashing sounds and stuff, and tinkling of glasses, an' I think some mushy sounds too, something about kissing the bride and all. I did get to see HeathernChris before they went back downstairs... she looked pretty enough to eat, but Chris wouldn't let me near her :( Guess he thought they weren't shloshed up enough yet... though why he'd dress up to shlosh up is beyond me... Well, anyway, I think Lucius got bored in a bit 'cos he trailed back up here with the fur and the stake an' said something about a wedding cake and perhaps we should see what was up. So I hopped on the smelly fur and let Lucius drag me downstairs so we could see what was going on. There were lots -- an' I mean lots -- of people there, dressed like you wouldn't believe! Some were in shorts and t-shirts, others were in fancy stuff... they all looked good enough to eat, and they were all eating an' drinking an' acting really funny. HeathernChris kept bouncing from table to table an' drinkin' with everyone and getting shloshed an' the band was playing something they called "step-dancing", only everyone dancing never danced a single step -- though they did jump up an' down a lot and forgot that they had hands or arms. Strange... Well, something happened around midnight 'cos several of the people there started acting strange and getting sick an' Brenda thought it might've been something in the Atholl Brose or the food or the mixing drinks right and left, but when those people got all fangy-like (like me!) Siobhan an' Deirdre an' Brenda an' Pen an' Lora an' Megan an' Heather an' Chris brought out some really yummy-smelling bottled stuff an' started handing it out to all the vamps. Said something about an "Ulsterman's Special". I wanted to find out if I could get some, but everyone kept ignoring me. Finally, Lucius decided it was his time to dance, so he dragged me out on the dance floor just as the band was getting down from the stage. Everybody laughed -- they thought Lucius was *cute*. They thought *I* was cute. I was never so embearassed in my unlife! Oh, well, at least it brought me some attention an' I was able to get to the table with Brenda an' Pen an' Lora an' Megan an' all the others, and got a chance to get some *live* food from them, which the other vamps couldn't, so there! Nyaah, ninny, nyaah, nyaah! I got live food -- you can't get none! *Bthehththhfhththhh!!!* Anyway, some idiot with a cross on comes in an' says Father Andrew couldn'ta married them 'cos he doesn't have any lie cents but he could if they wanted and would they repeat after him something that made me feel strange an that sounded like "Haimish go hammill to see Dorothy in the chapel in Oz"(1)... and then everyone else said something that sounded like "slant your bar" and drank whatever was in their glasses an' then there was some sorta gigantic cake and the humans kept pushing it in each other's faces while the vamps just kept drinking Ulsterman's Special an dancin' to that funny stepping Highland jumping weird dance.... an then there was the violinists who were dancing while they were playing so their music sounded all jumpy-like, and the drummer who kept waving his drum so it ran into the bagpiper who bumped into the guitarist who... well, let's just say that this so-called great Celtic band was nothing more than a giant mosh pit :( But all the *people* liked it, so I guess it was ok. Brenda said that at tooehem they had to close up officially cuzzuh the law but they could keep partyin' cuz it was private or something like that. Looked pretty general to me, but then what do I know of ranks? (A lot more than Lucius, that's for sure. After all, I do watch eight hours of STAR TREK a week...) Well, a lottathe vamps had to leave before sun-up or take the low road out the subway entrance (I know, I know those Canadians call it "metro" but I'm a NewYawkuh so there *bpththth*!). I think half of 'em were shloshed too, but I'm not sure how to get a vamp shloshed so I can't bug Brenda for some party stuff either :( But anyway, they kept partying and the sun came up and the brunch crowd came in an' some of the folk left for church but then they came back and some folk had to leave for work an go home an everything but Pen an Brenda an Lora an Megan an everybeardy who glows stayed an kept partying and partying even after the band went home an they started singin themselves an kept on dancin and eatin and drinkin an singin off key an.... ***************** "You're going to finish that, bear, or can I have my pen?" Lucius emphasized with a swipe of his forepaw. "Well, I haven't finished writing all the singing and dancing and eating and drinking and---" "You'll run out of time if you keep on repeating it." "So what do you suggest?" "Use the traditional Irish fairy-tale ending: 'And the wedding went on for nine years, and nine months, and nine weeks--" "And what about their jobs, and Texas, and their families, and Scotland?" ************** In the next room, MacHeather stirred in her Chris's arms. "Honey?" "Yeah?" "What're we going to do about all these favors, and the family back home and everything?" "Huh?" "The wedding that we scheduled for next weekend." "We'll just have it, anyway. Everything's paid for, and the family wants to see us wed, anyway. Then it's off to Scotland for the honeymoon." "Kewl. Tha gra agam ort.(2)" "Tha gradh agam ort, Heather.(2)" ************************** "*Awwwwww....*" the vampbear and cat said, then shook their heads before screaming "YUCK!" at the tops of their lungs. "So," said Nicolas, scratching in his little vampbear journal, "The wedding lasted for nine years and nine months and nine weeks--" "Make that two weeks, and then moved to Texas," Lucius added, hopefully. "--and nine weeks, and nine states, and nine countries, and nine continents--" "There are only *seven* continents on Earth," Lucius corrected. "It's *my* story, and I'll write it the way *I* want to," Nicolas retorted. "*Seven* continents," said Lucius, tugging away at the pen. The vampbear found the ink release and pulled it, hoping to squirt blue-black fluid at the cat. It went the wrong way and stained his natural linen chemise, instead. "@*(&#*A^T@*&@^*%@@%^#@#$A%$$*@@!!!!!!!!" he roared. "Serves you right!" the cat said, sticking out its tongue. "Why, you----!!!!" "Back to the story," Lucius prodded. "And they both lived happily ever after to the age of nine hundred, and they had nine children each of nine sexes and --" "You're *stalling*." "They had lots of kids and lots of cats and lots of shloshing and remembered never to let MacHeather make Atholl Brose again," the vampbear scribbled. After a moment's thought, he added, "THE END" in big, bold letters, and slammed the book shut before the ink had the chance to dry. "Happy?" he asked, as the black cat ran away with the now-empty fountain pen. "I'll be sure to tell it to my kittens," he miaowed. ********************FLASH FORWARD******************** Same place and time as before. "So that's how Lucius learned the rest of the story," Heather told her Granny. "An' how would *you* know that?" her older brother asked. "The vampbear showed me his book," she said, pulling out several brittle pages of scribbles from her little purse. Granny Maire raised a quizzical eyebrow to the Faer Ones who had certainly made their homes aboard this space ship. And then she, too, fell asleep. *************END FLASH-FORWARD******************* "Come back with the pen, Lucius! I forgot to mention that Vaq Tammy was there in leather, and Brenda'll turn me back to fluff if I don't write it in!" "Then back to fluff it is, *bear*," the cat said. "The pen is *MINE*." Nicolas wearily trudged off in search of another pen to finish his great epic novel... journal... whatever... *******************FINIS*********************** Thanks to Heather and her fiance Chris for letting me set them up in cyberspace in a way they would never have thought of (nor their families approved of, I'm sure!) in real life. May your wedding come off without a snag, and may you live long and happily together. "Slainte Mhath!" ************ NOTES: (1) This is *supposed* to be Gaelic wedding vows, but I don't know how to pronounce them, the vampbear doesn't know how to write them, and I ran out of time to ask Pen for assistance. The real vows can be found at http://www.britannia.org/scotland/marriagevows.shtml (2) "I love you" in Scots Gaelic. Unfortunately, I've no idea which one is from a man to a woman and which, from a woman to a man -- so if I've got them mixed up, you'll know why! These can be found at the same page as the Gaelic wedding vows. Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:20 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LJMt-0004Iv-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:48:31 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6048; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:46:12 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7881; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:46:13 -0400 Date: Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:48:08 EDT Reply-To: Ipecac69@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stan Williams Subject: WAR: Independent! : Why did it always have to be black? To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 0e8fd836e5bff561430428beb36f4485 Time: Sunday (as the war ends, or so she put it) Place: From the Loft to the Airport, and beyond! Author: Stan One bouncy drive across Toronto later, and Talon - - I mean Stan - - found himself nearing his old stakeout location, the Loft. As he pulled into the old familiar alleyway not far from the loft, he took stock of himself. Ick, wrinkled silk shirt and designer slacks. And black...It was always black. Why did it always have to be black? Fortunately, Stan had an emergency plan. In a small suitcase stashed in the trunk he kept what he always considered to be a disguise : a green golf shirt, a pair of khakis, Sebagos, and sunglasses that were not black. With his new bouncy attitude, Stan thought very little about changing clothes in the almost wide open of the alley. A spritz or two of Lagerfeld, and voila - - a new man. A new man ... now that is a breath of fresh air. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stan's radio was buzzing as he reentered the Crown Vic. "Hello?" "Hey, Talon?" came the voice of the taxi dispatcher who had been cooperating with agent Talon during his surveillance mission this war. "Uh, yes...." "This is Wayne at cab dispatch. We just got a call from that place you've been interested in." Stan's heart skipped a beat or two. Of course! The end of the war! People will be needing rides here and there. I wonder . . .no, better not set myself up. It would be a heartbreaker if I expected her only to find she had already left. Still . . . "Talon? Talon? You there pal?" Talon, er Stan snapped out of it. "I'll get right on it. Thanks Wayne." Stan took a deep breath and hopped (bounced) into the car. He drove around the block just to be careful. Then, as he approached the loft, he saw her. It was Gem. Now Stan knew it was silly to be suffering from emotional reactions to someone whom he had not even met. He mentally chastised himself for his lack of will power. Apparently she did not recognize him. There were tears in her eyes. Of course, war was over and she was leaving. He sympathized. In fact he had to fight the temptation to take advantage of her situation. No. No. No. This time he was going to keep things honest - -to think about her. This is how love should be, right? She said nothing to him except for the word "airport". He put her bags in the trunk, held her door for her, and even made eye contact in the rearview mirror,,,,,but she said nothing. As they made their way to the airport the silence was unbroken. He had to say something! "Are you all right, Miss?" fumbled the typically glib Stan. Gem nodded. Well, that didn't break the ice. He had no choice but to pull up to the baggage check-in. Stan, hurried around to her door, opened it, and extended his hand. Gem looked up at him and took his hand. [Dear reader, I hope you have experienced love, deeply and truly. Do you remember the first real touch, the first real kiss? Not an accidental brush, or a nervous smack of the lips. I am referring to the time when you and yours were alone and had a moment to savour the touch, the kiss. Do you remember the way time stopped? Do you recall the electricity? For that is the way Stan feels at this moment, until...] Her hand was soft to his touch. That is except for the band of gold around her finger. Some agent Talon was to not have noticed it sooner. But there it was, a thin band of gold that might as well had been the great wall. Gem cast Stan a confused look. It seems he had held her hand for a second or two longer than is proper. Woodenly, he gathered her luggage. She may have paid him, he didn't notice. Next he knew he was driving away from the airport. Driving away from another man's Treasure. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There was no surcease of sorrow, as Poe put. No respite. Stan's right hand - - the hand that touched.... Stan's hand reached across the seat for a cassette of Nightcrawler monologues. In the coldness of the General's heart, Stan had always found inspiration. But his hand found not the cassette, but his black Rayban, GSS issue sunglasses. Stan threw his civilian sunglasses out the window, and put the piece of his uniform back on. He knew now why it always had to be black. After he pulled into the parking deck near CERK, Stan....no, Talon changed back into full uniform. The Lagerfeld - a scent too loud for proper stealth - would have to be washed off. One last check in the rearview. Talon was home. From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:21 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LJQG-0004OH-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:52:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3411; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:49:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8267; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:49:41 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:55:48 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR:Nothers: A Nother Day's Work 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a7a8196558607a84a54a8e83e1e6b9a3 Title: A Nother Day's Work written by: Fleurette B Place: Chateau des Autres Time: Saturady, 28 Aug 1999, all day Disclaimers: All Nothers used by permission. Mrs. Connors, Nicole, Harry and Daf used by the power invested in the Nothers faction as their creators. **************** Mrs. Connors, housekeeper to the Nothers, hurried from Fleurette's office. She had orders to gather together all the cleaning supplies that she could find. While normall, the NOthers relied upon the housekeeper and Nicole, the maid, to clean up after them, two weeks of War had rendered le Chateau a veritable shabbles. And thus, on the day before the War was to end, Fleurette had decided that everyone would lend a hand in getting le Chateau in order. After gathering the supplies and setting them up in the lobby, the matronly woman set about to her next task-- rousing all the Nothers (except Fleurette) from their beds. ***************** After a brief but deliscious breakfast, the Nothers were assembled in the main lobby. Kat and LIz were sent to the Library to return books and videos to their respective places. Fleurette helped Nicole and Mrs. Connors with the dusting. She always loved using feather dusters. NightDancer, Elladara and Jeanne were set to mopping the stairs and hall way. Outside, Daf and Harry picked up trash about the grounds. ****************** Later, they all stopped for lunch, and then everyone helped (or pretended to help) Elladara and Jeanne pack to go home. After they packed, they all decided to go out for a farewell dinner. Well, they didn't really go out. They opened the main dining hall and ate on fine china. Andre cooked a sumptuous meal-- fit for royalty. Afterwards, they all watched FK videos until they all fell alseep in their chairs. ***************** Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LJUk-0000hx-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:56:38 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3424; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:54:21 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8501; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:54:21 -0400 Date: Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:56:17 EDT Reply-To: Ipecac69@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Stan Williams Subject: WAR: GSS: Next time, %@$%@ it. To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 3fdd5c4e285f09d08115626016fa19c9 Time: Sunday Place: Beneath CERK. I would show you but then I would have to kill you. Author: Talon Well, there is always War 11, thought Talon. <> But if the General wants someone to spy on the Knighties, he can get some other stupid ^&$@. From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:22 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LJXS-0004ca-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:59:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3433; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:57:10 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8660; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:57:10 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:59:08 PDT Reply-To: Fleurette B Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Fleurette B Subject: WAR: Nothers:A Nother Goodbye 01/01 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 230b7ea1b50fbfe9416991fc9b99c8be Title: A Nother Goodbye By: NightDancer Time: Sunday, August 29, following "A Nother War Over" Place: Chateau des Autres All real people used by permission. "Hey," Fleurette called out as she spotted Elladara standing in the foyer with a suitcase in one hand. "You leaving?" "Yeah, I need to get home," Elladara nodded. "I had fun." "Mom's going too," Fleurette informed her. "Will you be back next War?" "I don't know yet. We'll see." Just then, Jeanne came down with her suitcase in hand as well. NightDancer, who had been helping get the returned clones and crossothers settled back in, spotted her and hurried over to say goodbye. Liz and Kat followed. "Take care," Fleurette hugged Elladara. "I will. Thanks, guys." Fleurette then turned to her mother, who was hugging all the other Nothers goodbye. "Have a good trip home, Mom," she said with a sad smile. "I will. Take care of yourself, Sammy." "You too, Mom." "Thanks for joining us, Jeanne," NightDancer added. Daf appeared in the doorway. "You guys ready to go?" He was dropping Jeanne off at the airport in the van. Elladara still had her car. "Ready." Jeanne gave her daughter one last hug and kiss and disappeared out the door. NightDancer put one arm around her friend. "Come on," she suggested. "Let's go see what the gang has been up to." THE END Fleurette** (fleurettebrabant@hotmail.com) Nothers List Mommy & war 10 Leader Visit the Nothers at War; http://www.crosswinds.net/~fknothers/warroom.htm ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LJZ4-0004eZ-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 01:01:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6096; Mon, 30 Aug 99 00:58:51 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8873; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 00:58:51 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 23:58:37 -0500 Reply-To: Ann Bridges Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Ann Bridges Subject: War: Harem: HArem's Night Out or Stripped to order! To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: af953c420767263a20b87559965011b2 War: Harem: HArem's Night Out or Stripped to order! By:Amethyst,Randora & Agent Ice Sat Aug 28 all used with permission, sorry no time for beta it's zeron hour!! Amethyst had just finished getting ready, she checked the dogs crates, then headed down stairs to met the other wives that were going to the Strip club. Randora stood in the lobby, near where couch had once sat, "It's about time, that is a nice suit though." "Think the strippers will like it?" Amethyst asked half jokingly. Randora looked Amethyst over and nodded, "I think they'll like it." Just then Rick walked by and whistled softly. "Well thanks Rick" AMethyst replied bashfully.Rick smiled and waved as he headed for the back door. The Wives watched as Rick, Mac and Robin left for the night. They always acted as if they had to be someone and left at the same time most evenings. DragonLady joined Randora and Amethyst as the three men left. She was wearing tight jeans and her shirt was unbuttoned enough to show enough to start a mini-riot. Randora gestured toward the door, "Shall we go? I think Nick has the others ... occupied." She was wearing dark slacks, and a long-sleeved blue shirt. Amethyst, Randora & DL climbed in the Van, "UGH! it STILL smeels of Mustard!!" Dl held her nose. Randora coughed at the smell and wished she was like Nick and didn't have to breathe. " You think it bothers you! I'm not driving back to TX in a van that smeels like Grey Poupon! I'll just stay here for a while!" Amethsyt replied "Shall we take my car? It doesn't have A/C, but we can breathe anyway. If it will start, that is," Randora added, ruefully. "Didn't Mac say he was going to check it out?" "Oh! That's right. I'd forgotten about that. I wonder if he got a chance." "Only one way to find out" Amethyst replied. They all climbed out of the van and headed for the little Chevy Nova. Randora unlocked the driver's door and pulled it open. She staggered back a bit as a wave of heat hit her in the face. She slowly climbed inside and tried the engine, after much pumping, grinding and a little cussing and conjoiling, the car started. Randora patted the dashboard and said, "Good girl!" She leaned over and unlocked the doors for the others. "ALRIGHT lets get going!!" Amethyst added in delight. " My first stip club ! What was the name again?" "I think it was the 'Paridise ...' something, I think," DragonLady said as she climbed into the front seat. Amethyst opened the back door "Looks like my van after a dog show!" She said as she began shoving & stuffing things around to make room for herself with out too many wrinkls in her Burgundy suit. Randora put the car in gear and backed out of her parking space, then pulled out onto the street. As she pressed the gas pedel to the floorboard trying to pick up speed, she was pleading, "Come on, baby. Come on, darlin'. You can do it." Then as the car finally made it to cursing speed, she said with a pat on the dash, "Good girl! I knew you could do it." "Is this thing gonna get us there AND back!"Amethyst asked Randora. "Usually," Randora said as she drove toward the club. Amethyst shot her a concerned look in the rearview mirror. Randora didn't notice as she coaxed her car along. After a bit, they pulled up in front of the strip joint and parked. As DragonLady got out she quickly whispered to Amethyst, "I think I would have perfered the smell to walking back." As DragonLady straightened her shirt making sure it was tucked in to show off her attrubutes, she noticed a balck Jag pull into the parking lot, "Oh wow! Cool wheels!" Amethyst turned "where? As usual I missed it!" THe wives entered the club & found them seats right up front just as the show starts. "Hey. Isn't that Agent Ice over there? Why is she watching us like that?" Randora asked. Amethyst looked to where Randora was pointing and saw an auburn haired young woman dressed in black jeans and a black spaghetti strap top oscasionally glance over at them through her dark sunglasses. "Maybe she's spying on us. " DL replied. A man who could have a certain agent from a certain X show if there were Xover in wars. Came out & began his act. The tall dark haired stripped began to make his way to the Auburn haired spy. He procedded to shove various body parts in her face & lap . . . until she fainted. As he finished his act, he was wearing only his g-string and some of his clothing was drapped over the Agent on the floor. As he finished his act, he was wearing only his g-string and some of his clothing was drapped over the Agent on the floor. The next act came up and every wife that was watching felt her mouth fall open is shock. "That isn't...it couldn't be ... could it?" Randora asked the others.Amethyst could only make strange noises. DragonLady had to reply for her, "Yes, I do believe that is our yummy front desk clerk, Rick up there. Baring his all, so to speak." "Oh my," is all Randora could manage as Rick really swung into his "Oh my," is all Randora could manage as Rick really swung into his act. An act that brought him to their table. They watched as he pulled open his shirt and swung it over his head, it landed in Amehtyst's lap. When he spotted her, his movements slowed but the crowd forced him to continue. He swallowed then went on as usual. As he stripped off his pants, he tried to avoid looking at his lady bosses sitting in front of him. Amethyst reached into her purse & pulled out her wallet. All she had was a handfull of ones & a fifty ... She chose the fifty & waited till Rick got a little closer. Rick moved closer to the table with a bump and grind... "Well now I know where you've been running off to at night" She said as she reached out & slipped the bill into the G-string, he smiled shyly "that should help you get over the embarrassment" she added as she patted his hip. He flushed as her hand touched his hip and he felt the money sliding against him. As he moved away still in step with the music his act ended. He bolted out of the room as quickly as he was able to decently do so. The music started up once again, this time two dances strutted out. The ladies gasped as they recognized Robin and Mac dancing across the stage and down to the floor. Randora leaned over to Amethyst and DragonLady, "I'll be staying in Toronto. I just decided." "You are not alone my friend!" Amethyst asnwered with a dreamy look in her eyes The two men flushed as they overheard their bosses talking and much too soon, their act was over and they were heading backstage. The wives watched as the stripper (who looked incredibly like that guy on that X show), now fully clothed came out of a door that was marked 'Back Stage'. He walked briskly through the crowd until he had found the red haired agent, who was still passed out on the floor. Kneeling down he gave her cheek a gentle pat, in an attempt to wake her up. They listened closely to what he was saying. "Miss? Miss? Wake up." He said in earnest. The agent opened her eyes to look up at him. "Huh? What happened?" "I'm terribly sorry miss, but I'm afraid I made you faint with my act." That was all the wives could hear before the brown-haired man helped her up and they left together through the front door. The lights slowly came up and it was time to leave. As they made their way out to the car, Randora suddenly had a thought, "You did give the maid the envelope with the element in it to deliver for us, didn't you?" Amethyst nodded, "Yes, and she said that it was placed in the hands of one of the Knighties. She didn't know which one though." "Good," Randora said as she made her way to her car. She unlocked the door and climbed inside, reaching to unlock their doors as well.She got the motor to fire first try this time and she sat with it idling while waiting for the other two to join her in the car. "Wonder what the guys will say when they come to work in the morning?" Amethyst asked as she slid inthe back seat. "Can you just see the look on their faces in the morning?" Randora asked as she started to back out. She had to quickly slam on the brake as she almost backed into someone who was wearing a hawaiian shirt. Soon they were on the road again, heading back to their headquarters. "You know, we'll have to remember this place." The others quickly agreed. *FIN* From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:23 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LJbR-0004ib-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 01:03:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3475; Mon, 30 Aug 99 01:01:16 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9120; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 01:01:16 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 21:53:25 -0700 Reply-To: Miranda LaCroix Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Miranda LaCroix Organization: @Home Network Member Subject: War: DP: 3 Girls & A Brand New Rental Car (1/1) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: af72dd2ab68485f27b11886175be6483 War: DP: 3 Girls & A Brand New Rental Car (1/1) Place: Toronto, Ontario, Canada. The DP Mansion Time: Sunday, August 29th. 12 midnight. DPs used with permission. DPs: Mary, Shana, Mir, Jenn #2, Jenn #3 War: DP: 3 Girls & A Brand New Rental Car (1/1) With blaring beats rocking the entire DP Mansion from stereos tuned to a local hot music station, the three teens began packing their bags. Jenn#2 grinned as she put in her suitcase a few items she had picked up during the war. She ran down the stairs put her suitcase by the door, and walked over by the stairs again. "Hey Jenn F! Mir! C'mon! Let's get down here, NOW!" Jenn#3 yelled from her spot at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm coming!!" Jenn#3 (Jenn F) yelled back. "Just a few more minutes!" "We don't have minutes! I just got the car refuelled!" Jenn#2 yelled up again. "Yeah we do! Jenn F is driving!" Mir yelled from her room. "Come on you gals! I have school to go back to!" Jenn #2 yelled again. Miranda was the first to come down the stairs lugging a heavy suitcase. "Like *you're* looking forward to that," she told her sarcastically. "You're lucky that you start a few weeks later..." Jenn #2 replied, catching the bag Miranda dropped down. Miranda returned a grin. "You'd better return me to Vancouver, BC, not Vancouver, Washington." Jenn #3 waved the map with a deliciously grin as she came down the stairs. "Don't worry Mir.." Mir shook her head and went back up the stairs. "So, didja have fun?" Jenn #3 asked Jenn #2. Jenn #2 shrugged. "I had a good time. Could've been better though.. Tinky Winky was um.. interesting though." "I heard that!" Mir yelled from above. Mary came out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee in her hand. "You girls jetting off?" she asked taking a sip as Shana came up right beside her. "Jetting, driving... whatever.." Jenn #3 replied trying to straighten out some bags. "Wide load!" Mir yelled from upstairs as she tossed another bag down. Jenn #2 expertly caught the bag and put it down on the floor. "I see that we still have some things to take care of, eh?" Shana asked with a smile. Jenn #3 shrugged. "Lots of stuff." "How are you going to fit that in your rental car?" Jenn #2 asked. "Oh.. we got an upgrade," Mir grinned coming down the stairs. Jenn #2 opened the door to reveal a minivan parked outside. The three girls began cramming their luggage hard into the van and got into the van. With bass beats beating loud and clear within the minivan with another hit single, Jenn #3 the trio off and away back to their destinations as Mary and Shana waved bye bye behind them. ~End~ Mir specmir@home.com From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:26 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LKAU-0005cA-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 01:39:46 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4391; Mon, 30 Aug 99 01:37:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1364; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 01:37:32 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:36:46 -0700 Reply-To: Chris Rosmini Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Chris Rosmini Subject: War: Knighties: Change and Change Again To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: bb57d9952ca598af8a20e5cf23d810c3 Knighties: Change and Change Again by Chris Rosmini The Roof of the Loft, The Loft Sunday August 29: Sometime after Midnight Nick and the named Knighties used with permission The buildings around 101 Gateway flared out of the darkness and vanished again and again, seeming like a landscape in a lightning storm to the Knightie watchers huddled in the shadow of the warehouse walls. Nick had wanted them safe inside the building, if not outside the city, but he had lost that argument. They had wanted to know it when he needed them. LaCroix had departed a short while ago, unaware of their presence, his task accomplished whatever it was. Gloating perhaps. And the firestorm had started soon after. "Why don't we hear sirens?" Beth asked, "This must be waking up half the city." They flinched as a final explosion, like thunder directly overhead, sent balls of light hurtling in every direction, burning phosphor trails through the night air, and then silence descended. For a long moment they held their breaths ... waiting. "That's it. I'm going in." Roz said and started for the door to the stairs, not trusting anything that depended on the building's power supply to function. Nancy looked around her at the rest of their small band and nodded, following her Co-leader into the stairwell, waiting till they all were inside before letting them turn on their flashlights. They climbed carefully, the silence of the empty building pressing in on them, broken only by their footfalls and the sound of Roz's progress echoing down from above them. Winded slightly, they straggled to a stop at the door to the roof where Roz was waiting with the ... supplies they had gathered over the last couple of days. "You should wait here, or in the Loft." she said, fighting to catch her breath. "What Nick said was true, he could be a danger to us if he can't control the vampire after this change." "Why should you take that risk alone?" said Nancy. "We're both in charge here, it's both our responsibilities." "Because you have a family Nancy, most of you have families and I'm not explaining to your husbands and your kids how mommy got eaten on her trip to Toronto." she said. It was a suddenly serious question for them all. What had seemed an impossibly remote threat when he had sent them away was now a very present danger. Nancy looked at the others and realized that some of the newer Knighties had never met Nick as a vampire, had never met _any_ vampire, and that they were beginning to recognize that too. Some of them had argued against the slender sharpened plant stakes that were the rest of their kit, when they had discussed this on the previous day, but all the women accepted them now; and each of them secretly wondered if she could, or would, use it against the laughing golden haired man they had known these last two weeks. So they waited while the older woman walked out onto the moonlit roof clutching a canvas carryall, then they slipped out to stand in the shadows around the stairway door. They felt safer there, despite knowing the darkness would be bright as day to the vampire who waited by the silent fountains. Roz stood looking at him from the base of the garden steps, becoming aware of an almost subsonic rumbling noise all around her, the warning growl of the monster who was her friend. Like a tame lion, she had once thought of him, relying on his strength to keep it that way. She heard a stifled gasp behind her as he turned to face them, fangs extended, eyes glowing amber. "Get out!" he snarled. "No." He moved toward her now with the grace of a creature not wholly constrained by gravity, a predator. And Roz began to wonder whether she was up to this. She couldn't have stood against him when he was mortal, none of them could, and this ... she gazed at him transfixed, horrified by the emptiness and desolation in his eyes. "Come to hunt the Beast?" he mocked her with a bitterness that took them by surprise, "Like Inspector O'Neal?" The golden eyes flicked to the women who stood clutching their pathetic weapons in the background. "No!" Eowyn said, appalled. "We came to help you! That's what we do, Nick." He closed his eyes then, clearly fighting for control, "Then go!" he said, "you can't help me with this." And then more softly, "I need to feed, Roz. Get out of here ... Please." "That's what we thought, Nick." She snapped out of her trance and tentatively held out the canvas bag, it's contents clinking slightly with the trembling of her hands. He reached out and took one of the bottles from it, looking at her, at them with a kind of puzzlement. "Human?" His expression was totally unreadable. She put the bag down at his feet. "That one and this other." She indicated two bottles with red tape around the necks. "All the rest are cow. We didn't know, you see ... and it's fresh, we found your records and went to the ... supplier ..." She was babbling, she knew it, and took a calming breath before continuing quietly. "It's donated, we asked Dr. Lambert to help. She got it for us. For you, I mean." He looked away toward the sleeping city for a moment. "Dr. Lambert" He turned back to her, wearing his human face, looked over at the others, nodded once. "Thank you" he said, and held the bottle a little more tightly. "Could you leave me by myself for a time? I'll be down in a little while." It was resignation, not rejection, and now that she knew she wasn't going to be killed she realized she had been as much afraid for him as for herself. "We'll be waiting, if you need us" she murmured, touching his arm, and walked back to the stairs, the tight feeling in the pit of her stomach replaced by one in her chest. By the time she got there Eowyn and Nancy had herded the Knighties back onto the stairs, Zoe and Adriana wide eyed and teary, Mindy and Stephers and Gem trailing disconsolately back down to the loft while Tinker went for the fuse box. Chris, Kat and Beth collected the stakes, intending to bury forever that reminder that they could have been so afraid of their friend. Sandra was just asking whether Nick would be all right when they were startled by the sound of breaking glass from the roof. They flinched again at the sound of a second bottle being thrown with vampiric force at the wall, full bottles by the sound of them, then silence. "You know, I think maybe he will." Roz said, and sat down on the stairs, buried her face in her hands and began to bawl, from relief or pity, she didn't know which. ***************************************** Some while later, when the power was back on and the evidence of tears more or less hidden, Nick opened the door and walked in, the instant focus of every eye. *He looks different somehow, not less human, but more something else. And he looks just the same, if that makes any sense.* Roz thought. He stood for a bit, looking back at them and then walked to where Sandra was standing and laid his hand on her shoulder; he moved through the room, gathering them with a touch on the arm, a little hug, a whispered word. He led them at last to where the Knightie leaders stood by the hearth, and taking their hands said "Thank you again." He drew them down beside him on the couch, and one by one the other Knighties joined them, snuggling in, nothing so indecorous as a puppy pile but much the same formation, and suited to their mood. Finally the youngest Knightie asked the question that had drifted through all their minds, Nick's included. "Was it worth it? All this pain for a few days of mortality? Would you do it again?" Nick closed his eyes then, fighting the sting of tears and remembering. Finally, with just the tiniest of smiles he said "Yes. Yes it was. And yes I would. And now I know for certain that I can." ****************************************************** Finis From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LKK3-0005ox-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 01:49:39 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4422; Mon, 30 Aug 99 01:47:22 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1701; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 01:47:22 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 22:53:56 -0700 Reply-To: Shele Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Shele Subject: WAR: NA: Ted's Room of Memories To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: fe29f412f3206236847a148a98d8463d Title: Ted's Room of Memories 1/1 Faction: Nunkies Anonymous Date/Time: Sunday dinner time Scenario By: Shele Poems as Attributed ***** Ted put the finishing touches on his Nunkies Shrine War Shrine. This was his second War and he knew there would be more in the future. Someday, perhaps, he'd even have his own War Shrine area, but, in the meantime, he'd taken over the Poet's room. She'd been so busy lately, he hoped she wouldn't notice. The pingpong table that Glennis had so carefully painted stood in one corner. It would be carefully perserved so it could serve again next year. The lifesize statue of KC stood in the center of the room. He could never look the statue directly in the eyes because it reminded him too much of that blonde haired evil woman from that syndicated mythology show. On the other hand, he found himself standing in front of the statue, just gazing at it, because it reminded him too much of that blonde evil woman from that syndicated mythology show. His favorite parts of Plastered Poetry were set in the far wall. Glennis' beautiful art work had gotten chipped a bit by Cabon's whacking, but it still looked great. The odd bits of poetry he had liked. " She's plaster encased A novel approach To make an NA stay chaste. " The Nunku's letters worked in Glennis' precise brushstrokes. Among the multiple 'KC is the goddess' slogans, the Evil One had also managed to pen a limerick: " There once was an Addict named KC Who the Vaqs all thought was quite spacey. But when this small girl takes over the world Then tears will run down their faceys!" He didn't know what it was but there was *something* about that one. Jennifer had even managed a Shakespearean piece: " When forty tons of plaster besiege thy brow, And fill deep trenches in thy clothings' folds, Thy Poet's proud livery, so gaz'd on now, Will be a stiffened tweed, of no movement held; Then being ask'd where all thy deep words lie, Where all the treasures of thy Rythymic Days, To say, within thine own deep-burried eyes, Were an all-meaningless claim and bad diction. How much more praise deserv'd thy talent's use, If thou couldst answer more than, "Mfff mmmmfff mfff mffff mfff mff mfff, mff mffff mfff mfff," Proving thou's talent by rights thine! This were to be quickly made when thou art movable, And feel thou quite warm when thou feel'st not plaster." The rhythm of the words made Ted woozy, despite the knowledge Jennifer had written the poem with one of those evil blue lightsaber pens. Why anyone would prefer blue to the powerful red was beyond him. Finally, his favorite of the non-Poet Laureate composed ones was one he blamed on the Poet, hoping that no one figured out it that he was the author. " Since LaCroix has lost all his powers On what does he while 'way the hours? --I don't like to spread rumors --But he sits in his bloomers While making up white paper flowers!" Even now, he still got a good chuckle out of it. He cast a final look around the room, turned off the light, and headed downstairs to dinner. **** From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:31 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LKd6-00050B-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 02:09:20 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6265; Mon, 30 Aug 99 02:03:01 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2958; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 02:02:58 -0400 Date: Mon, 30 Aug 1999 02:04:48 EDT Reply-To: MadiHolmes@AOL.COM Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Alicia Madison Subject: WAR: GSS, Cousins, LCL: Staring at the Sun To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 62a4cb64bfb168d43d5fd6300aeca579 Staring at the Sun... When: Saturday Morning right before the sunrise Where: atop the CERK building Why: Uncle's last sunrise; Cousin Family reunion Who: (let me see if I can get them all) Me, Terisa, Wulf, Rhonda, Arletta, Annette, Brandi, Agents Ice, Muse and Striker "Agent sHolmes, I'd advise you to wake up."The exhausted GSS agent cracked her eyes open, then screwed them shut, the tiny light way too much for even her. She opened them slightly to see the General dressed impeccably in a pure white suit. She jerked awake, wondering if her charge had somehow slipped and hit his head, and was now under the influence of a concussion. "Umm... General? Are you feeling alright?" She sat up in her bed, not noticing Agents Ice and Muse standing behind him. She adjusted her blue and green elephant pajamas, and looked at the time. "It's 4:30 AM???? Didn't I just go to bed not 3 hours ago? Is it time already?" She asked, grabbing her dart gun from under her pillow instinctively. "It is time. The other agents will join us shortly after they return from their assignment. Get dressed in something other than your uniform, then proceed to the top of the roof." He left with the other GSS agents, who followed quickly. As soon as they left the room, she opened her closet, looking for something suitable. Jeans, sweatshirt, a kevlar vest disguised as leather, a brown army surplus wool knit sweater, gobs of black. Finally, she pulled out a grey rayon sleeveless dress with sewn brown paisley design. "Well, it's not my uniform, but I did wear it to my dad's wedding. Close enough." She quickly changed, and bobbed her hair under. At the lat second she grabbed her brown leather jacket, and headed to the roof. Several other Cousins and GSS Agents milled about, setting up tables, and chairs facing the East. sHolmes looked down at the street, and noticed a large moving van pulling up front. Pulling out her dart gun just in case, Agent Ice walked over, and watched along, making sure that nothing wrong would happen. Suddenly, Agents Muse and Striker walked out of the CERK door. They examined the contents of the van, then frisked the two workers. Finally, they gave a thumbs-up to sHolmes and Ice, as they led the van's contents into CERK. Ten minutes later, with the edge of the sky just starting to turn as lighter shade of blue, the bagels, cream cheese, jams and jellies, coffee perculators, teapots, and toaster ovens were set upon the main table. Lacroix sat amused as Cousin Terisa and Wulf began to fight over who should sit where. Terisa wanted the Light Cousins to have their own table, while Terisa wanted everyone to sit alpha-betically. Finally, Rhonda came over to intervene. "We are all cousins, whether we are Light, GSS, dark, pure, whatever. There is no distinction for we all follow Uncle in our own way. Why fight over a petty problem? We are all the one and the same, whether we differentiate between ideas." She left the two in silence. No further discussion about it was heard the rest of the morning. Finally, the food was served, everyone sat down at the large rectangular tables. UF Cousins sat nex to N&NPacker Cousins sat next to NatVampCamp Cousins sat next to DarkPerk Cousins. Everyone had a great time in the dark, waiting for the big event. Finally, the sky began to pinken slightly, ever so slowly. Everyone grew quiet as it became lighter and lighter. Uncle's white suit began to shine brightly, as sHolmes's grey dress grew darker. Toronto's buildings began to become lighter becoming alive in the sleepy morning air. A car whirred by in the distance along with an early bird chirping. The air grew warm while a cool breeze blew on top of the CERK building. This was it. The final moment where Uncle would see the sun rise for, hopefully, the last time ever. The sun peeped softly over the horizon, a great orange ball of fire dazzling everyone and everything in its sight. A palpable comaradeship came over everyone. Not a sound was made, as if to keep the magic of the perfect sunrise from disappearing. The sun loomed larger as it lifted, sending the entire party into a great golden mass of beauty. The moment lasted forever. But finally, someone(some people think it was later Annette) cracked a joke, and the spell was over. Everyone dispersed back to their subfaction, leaving only the GSS with Uncle. "So, how'd you like it?" Agent Ice asked. "It was... amusing. A once in a lifetime event, if you will." Lacroix answered in an unusually cheerful mood. "Umm... there's something I'd like to give you." sHolmes said, taking out a tape out of her pocket. "It's... well... it 'was' insurance, but I don't think that it is needed anymore." She stated, handing it over. Puzzled, the general took the tape as if it were poison. "What is it?" He finally asked. "It's a tape... Well, there's nothing else like it. I was going to blackmail you with it.... So you wouldn't kill me after this is all over." She replied hesitantly. "I DO have another copy. But, I'd just like to give this one to you. I also promise never to use the other tape for anything. It's more of a souvenir now." Agent sHolmes looked at the other agents, who promptly left. Unconsciously, she took out a glass case, and opened it one-handed. The Rayban pair of sunglasses was plucked off the velvet and handed to the Roman. "Just, try not to kill me for annoying you. I did have your best intentions at heart." Lacroix took the glasses, and put them on. "There is nothing to be afraid of. Just so long as that other tape is destroyed." His eyes narrowed, showing her his seriousness. "Y-yes, sir. I understand." sHolmes replied, looking at the crowd. Finally, she left him, and headed into the crowd of new friends and family. "Next war," she said to herself when no one was around. "Next war will be better. Oh, it WILL be better." She promised, already plotting and scheming. ************************ that's if, folks. Next war (of which, I already have ideas) will be a ton of fun. I promise :) Yours Truly, sHolmes Cousine Formidable/GSS From - Mon Aug 30 06:15:41 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11LNcT-0006QT-00; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 05:20:54 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3986; Mon, 30 Aug 99 05:18:39 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9379; Mon, 30 Aug 1999 05:18:40 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 13:50:52 -0800 Reply-To: Tiff Petherbridge Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Tiff Petherbridge Subject: War: NA: "To Russia With Love" (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 703216b695dc8721c2b18bc12ea7f119 NA: "To Russia With Love" (01/01) by: Evil Cousin Tiff with lots of help from Christy Stillman Time and Date: Sunday, August 29 Place: The Shrine Permissions: Given by all those mentioned. ************************* The last day of the war and everyone seemed to be resting up... except for those who had finishing posts to write, but let's not get into that. Tiff along with Christy were tired, and felt that a relaxing hour watching TV and pigging out on tiramisu from the Peach would do them well. So there they both sat in Tiff's now, really well decorated bedroom at the Shrine. Tiff decided that it would be a good idea that she did not go home after the war realizing that her mother did know where her apartment was *and* she would receive that $4500 credit card bill eventually. Sometimes Tiff would wish that she still had her Trance Powder, that way, when she went shopping at the Eaton Centre with the Toenotes, she would've gotten all the stuff she bought for free. After all, that equipment she bought was important... light bulbs, extension cords, film, Big Screen TV DVD player new stereo . But her mother would never understand it. And Tiff wasn't quite prepared to face her wrath. Anyway, where was I, oh, yes. Christy and Tiff in Tiff's room... There they sat, Christy and Tiff, eating tiramisu and enjoying television on the new big screen. Tiff had the remote and was flipping channels, when she caught a glimpse of the Toenotes on the news. She turned it up and along with Christy leaned in to see what the story was about. "In other news, the singing sensation 98 Degrees of Five Backstreet Syncs are still missing. On Friday August 13, they seemed to disappear off the face of the planet after an autograph session with some fans. They never appeared for their concert that night, causing a riot in Toronto's Skydome. Thousands of 12 year old girls looting and pillaging...." The two addicts watched in amused horror as the anchor woman told the story of what went on that Friday night. Then the newsclip continued. "Some say they spotted three of the young men in jail, spreading rumors of grand larceny charges, but sources have found them to be false." Christy and Tiff burst into laughter. A pictures of the five Toenotes appear on the TV, the anchor continued, "Once again ask that if you have seen Chad Thorndike, Daryl Granite, Trevor & Chip Whiteside, and Travis Johnson, also know as 98 Degrees of Five Backstreet Syncs, please contact authorities immediately. They are scheduled to perform a concert in Moscow for the Russian president and must be found before then." Tiff flicked off the TV. "Gee the Toenotes' manager really cares about their well being... they *have* to perform a concert in Russia... please." "Where are the Toenotes?" "Oh, I sent them to get shots of Toronto from the top of the CN Tower." "Oh, yeah, like you really care about their well-being..." "Who said I ever did? I can't stand them and I only keep them around because I don't want to carry all that equipment. I've got a bad back." "Well, your documentary is almost done, right?" "Yeah, so?" "When they get back from the CN Tower, we send them to Russia." "Okay, sounds good, but how?" "Ever watch Garfield?" Tiff and Christy found it quite difficult to get the box to the post office... good thing a couple of the GROUT guys were still around to help them. Now that they had their vampirey strengths back, they easily carried the large cardboard box labeled, TO: MOSCOW. ----- The five boys lamented on being fired by Tiff. Did they not do a good enough job? Were the angels not right? It was probably the bad lighting... Travis never did hold the light just right. Then they wondered if Tiff and the older addict Christy, had remembered to poke airholes in the box. ************************* The End of the War for Evil Cousin Tiff -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Get your free Canadian email address at http://mail.webcity.ca/ powered by OutBlaze From - Wed Sep 15 08:17:51 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11R5LO-0006PR-00; Tue, 14 Sep 1999 23:02:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9507; Tue, 14 Sep 99 22:57:40 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4499; Tue, 14 Sep 1999 22:57:41 -0400 Date: Tue, 14 Sep 1999 23:01:33 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Sandra Gray Subject: War compiler query To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 55d5105263d4e6e1f7baf8d548be7282 Who is compiling War 10? I have credit errors on three of my war posts and I'd like to see how to submit corrected posts to whoever is compiling War 10. --Sandra Gray, forever Knightie --sandragray@rica.net From - Tue Aug 24 18:31:33 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JFJH-0004JV-00; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 08:04:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5175; Tue, 24 Aug 99 08:02:08 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8907; Tue, 24 Aug 1999 08:02:08 -0400 Date: Tue, 24 Aug 1999 08:03:49 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Ronni Katz Subject: War question To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ce6021c2a5c24a900ca1169b8e775ac6 How long is the FKFIC-L war supposed to last? I lost the paperwork that had the ending date. Thanks. Ron the Enforcer Playing with the FoDs this time questinc@aol.com From - Mon Aug 09 19:05:55 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11DxLd-0007Ye-00; Mon, 09 Aug 1999 17:52:49 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7619; Mon, 09 Aug 99 17:50:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9053; Mon, 9 Aug 1999 17:50:47 -0400 Date: Mon, 9 Aug 1999 14:52:26 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Evil Cousin Tiff Organization: ChickMail (http://www.chickmail.com:80) Subject: war: To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 497acf3696c976074e9df076a6645d19 Okay, feeling stupid about this, does anybody know the Ravenette contact addresses? I kinda sorta accidentally deleted them last night... --- *EVIL* Cousin Tiff =C Cousin and NAer first and foremost with an alarming number of DP tendencies. (ICQ# 21389965, AIM-"Willow042" -- say hi) *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** From - Sun Aug 15 15:21:34 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11G5nY-0000m9-00; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 15:18:28 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4530; Sun, 15 Aug 99 15:16:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7299; Sun, 15 Aug 1999 15:16:28 -0400 Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 15:17:33 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Third Cousin Subject: WAR: Minor character usage To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cf8d31030499127dba787a311158c91c Hi all, I will be using the FK minor character Spark in one of my posts, this afternoon, Sunday, August 15, 1999. If this conflicts with anyone, please contact me privately. Thanks, Patt Elmore patt79ad@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Sat Aug 28 13:06:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KiX3-0003DN-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:28:33 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4302; Sat, 28 Aug 99 09:26:22 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7509; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:26:22 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 06:28:20 PDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Special Announcement X-To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu, fkwar10leaders@eGroups.com X-cc: phase3@gate.net, mclisa@mindspring.com To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: d6e6f4c17b9df4634a535ea4afcfb6d4 Hello, Due to circumstances and a specific situation, we find it necessary to address an issue involving problems that came up during the war which have caused much discussion and debate regarding a new faction. A ONE TIME, *AND* ONE TIME ONLY allowance will be made for a series of posts. Before we get into this, and it is done with the coordination of our esteemed List Mistress, let us say that the rules of Forever Knight Wars have been laid down over many wars. The rule of thumb has been that the first declared faction for a particular character controls that character. Any subsequent factions must coordinate interaction with the controlling faction in order to use that character. This rule will not be changing, nor are we suggesting that it should. We support this rule one hundred and ten percent. Going forward, a web site will be developed where the rules will be laid out so that participants will be able to read them and pose questions outside a war, and to allow clarification when needed. During this war a new faction, formed to follow one particular character, started the war under a premise that they would have total access to that character that they chose to support. Unfortunately, well into the war, a disagreement came out which resulted in the new faction pulling out, and several posters who had done a lot of work in and out of that faction having to throw out their threads that interacted with that faction. We are not trying to say that either faction was wrong, it is clear that the controlling faction has, does, and will be the coordinators of their characters during war time. What this means is that if they do not agree with a post or series of posts, they do have the right to disallow them. What we *are* addressing is that the situation here was that one faction entered the war under the impression that the definition of their faction would allow them to have access to the character they followed. This access was disallowed by the controlling faction, which is and was their right to do. What we are doing with this special allowance is to allow the new faction to redefine the character they chose to follow. In this ONE TIME *AND* ONE TIME ONLY allowance, in a series of posts they will be allowed to use an alternate character to resetup their factional definition. In a series of posts that should drop today and/or tomorrow, the faction known as Nick's Harem will be shown that they actually were *not* involved with the real Nick, but with a Nick from an alternate reality that came across during War 8. (which they did not participate in, and as such were not aware that duplicate characters had come across). This Nick was assumed by them to be the real Nick and as such they believed through this war that they were involved with the real Nick. They will use Dru to reveal this to them, when they find that a portal has existed within their headquarters which allowed the alternate Nick to cross over (originally in War 8) and to interact with them as the real Nick. Going forward, this character will not be allowed in a war unless an alternate reality is used as part of the war premise. This character is being allowed to be used in this war only to allow them to redefine their faction and allow them to continue. Part of Forever Knight wars have been the abilities to compromise and to work out problems that have come up. There have been instances where dream sequences have been used when factions could not agree on the usage or participation of a particular character. In this case, a dream sequence would not have worked for their group. What we are attempting to do, is to allow them to modify their definition in such a way that future misunderstandings should not occur. These posts will be done in the final days of the war as a setup for their factions future participation in future wars, and in fiction that they will develop. This was NOT done because we disagreed with, or did not support the Knightie decisions. We DO support and will CONTINUE to support factions which coordinate their characters and participate in Forever Knight Wars. The rules regarding this, as we have said, are clear on this issue. This WAS done to allow a faction to continue in such a way that they will not run into problems as they have. This decision was not taken lightly, and without a lot of discussion by the WMs and the List Mistress. We formulated this allowance for the Harem as a ONE TIME AND ONE TIME only allowance and it WILL NOT be done again in the future. Part of setting up future wars will involve clarifying this type of situation before we get into a war. As was mentioned several times before, this is a ONE TIME AND ONE TIME ONLY allowance. The character the Harem will be using will not be used as a substitute for Nick, but rather as a way to show the reason they thought he was the Nick of this reality. As confusing as that last statement may be, it specifically means that the alternate character is the Nick of his reality, not the Nick of THIS reality. The war is near an end, and this solution will allow the new faction to finish in a way that sets up their participation for future wars. Thank you for your patience and understanding. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 28 13:06:58 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KkBO-0006hA-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 11:14:18 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4709; Sat, 28 Aug 99 11:12:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2977; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 11:12:02 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 11:12:22 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa McDavid Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Special Announcement X-To: fic To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5ab8dce8db154ce94b42480f86e6dc71 Forwarded for the WM, who is having trouble accessing the lists. McL. -----Original Message----- From: ForeverKnight Warlock To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Date: Saturday, August 28, 1999 9:28 AM Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Special Announcement >Hello, > > Due to circumstances and a specific situation, we find it necessary to >address an issue involving problems that came up during the war which have >caused much discussion and debate regarding a new faction. > > A ONE TIME, *AND* ONE TIME ONLY allowance will be made for a series of >posts. > > Before we get into this, and it is done with the coordination of our >esteemed List Mistress, let us say that the rules of Forever Knight Wars >have been laid down over many wars. The rule of thumb has been that the >first declared faction for a particular character controls that character. >Any subsequent factions must coordinate interaction with the controlling >faction in order to use that character. > This rule will not be changing, nor are we suggesting that it should. > We support this rule one hundred and ten percent. > > Going forward, a web site will be developed where the rules will be laid >out so that participants will be able to read them and pose questions >outside a war, and to allow clarification when needed. > > During this war a new faction, formed to follow one particular character, >started the war under a premise that they would have total access to that >character that they chose to support. > Unfortunately, well into the war, a disagreement came out which resulted >in the new faction pulling out, and several posters who had done a lot of >work in and out of that faction having to throw out their threads that >interacted with that faction. > We are not trying to say that either faction was wrong, it is clear that >the controlling faction has, does, and will be the coordinators of their >characters during war time. What this means is that if they do not agree >with a post or series of posts, they do have the right to disallow them. > What we *are* addressing is that the situation here was that one faction >entered the war under the impression that the definition of their faction >would allow them to have access to the character they followed. This access >was disallowed by the controlling faction, which is and was their right to >do. > What we are doing with this special allowance is to allow the new faction >to redefine the character they chose to follow. > In this ONE TIME *AND* ONE TIME ONLY allowance, in a series of posts they >will be allowed to use an alternate character to resetup their factional >definition. > > In a series of posts that should drop today and/or tomorrow, the faction >known as Nick's Harem will be shown that they actually were *not* involved >with the real Nick, but with a Nick from an alternate reality that came >across during War 8. (which they did not participate in, and as such were >not aware that duplicate characters had come across). This Nick was assumed >by them to be the real Nick and as such they believed through this war that >they were involved with the real Nick. > They will use Dru to reveal this to them, when they find that a portal has >existed within their headquarters which allowed the alternate Nick to cross >over (originally in War 8) and to interact with them as the real Nick. > Going forward, this character will not be allowed in a war unless an >alternate reality is used as part of the war premise. This character is >being allowed to be used in this war only to allow them to redefine their >faction and allow them to continue. > > Part of Forever Knight wars have been the abilities to compromise and to >work out problems that have come up. There have been instances where dream >sequences have been used when factions could not agree on the usage or >participation of a particular character. In this case, a dream sequence >would not have worked for their group. What we are attempting to do, is to >allow them to modify their definition in such a way that future >misunderstandings should not occur. > > These posts will be done in the final days of the war as a setup for their >factions future participation in future wars, and in fiction that they will >develop. > This was NOT done because we disagreed with, or did not support the >Knightie decisions. We DO support and will CONTINUE to support factions >which coordinate their characters and participate in Forever Knight Wars. > The rules regarding this, as we have said, are clear on this issue. > This WAS done to allow a faction to continue in such a way that they will >not run into problems as they have. > > This decision was not taken lightly, and without a lot of discussion by >the WMs and the List Mistress. We formulated this allowance for the Harem >as a ONE TIME AND ONE TIME only allowance and it WILL NOT be done again in >the future. > > Part of setting up future wars will involve clarifying this type of >situation before we get into a war. > > As was mentioned several times before, this is a ONE TIME AND ONE TIME >ONLY allowance. The character the Harem will be using will not be used as a >substitute for Nick, but rather as a way to show the reason they thought he >was the Nick of this reality. As confusing as that last statement may be, >it specifically means that the alternate character is the Nick of his >reality, not the Nick of THIS reality. > > The war is near an end, and this solution will allow the new faction to >finish in a way that sets up their participation for future wars. > > Thank you for your patience and understanding. > >More To Come, >FKWarlock >FKWar10 WarMaster >http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html >fkwarlocks@egroups.com > >______________________________________________________ >Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com From - Sat Aug 28 13:07:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kl81-0002rY-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:14:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5006; Sat, 28 Aug 99 12:12:47 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7268; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:12:47 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:12:24 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Imajiru Mackenzie Subject: Re: WAR: ADMIN: Special Announcement X-cc: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU In-Reply-To: <199908281114.rsfv61.h81.37kbi3u@mx10.mindspring.com> Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 670eea9357da8e8024b82d8a1f0145dc >> In a series of posts that should drop today and/or tomorrow, the faction >>known as Nick's Harem will be shown that they actually were *not* involved >>with the real Nick, but with a Nick from an alternate reality that came >>across during War 8. (which they did not participate in, and as such were >>not aware that duplicate characters had come across). As the WarMistress of War 8, I would like to state for the record the following: 1) I did originate the concept of the War 8 alternate reality, above and beyond the copyrighted characters of Forever Knight; the essential plot being discussed was written by me and is in fact MINE. 2) I did give permission for this storyline to be used by War-players in and around the confines of War 8, but at that time it was made very clear that the duplicate characters created in War 8 was to be used for War 8 ONLY, and was to have no effect on any subsequent wars. 3) Nobody has made any attempt to contact me regarding this matter to ask me if they might use my premise or storyline in this War. I have not and DO NOT GIVE MY PERMISSION for the storyline which I originated for War 8 to be used in this manner, and I consider this proposed usage to be plagiarism and theft. I hereby formally insist that this proposed storyline be dropped. Sincerely, Imajiru Mackenzie aka Cinderella aka Jamie Melody Randell imajiru@mindspring.com cinderella@mindspring.com immajer@mindspring.com From - Sat Aug 28 13:07:05 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KlSS-0001Th-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:36:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7157; Sat, 28 Aug 99 12:33:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8271; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:33:50 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 09:34:14 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Jan J." Subject: Re: WAR: ADMIN: Special Announcement To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e95948803b9fb20fc589c5181eb145f4 ForeverKnight Warlock writes: > Before we get into this, and it is done with the coordination of our >esteemed List Mistress, let us say that the rules of Forever Knight Wars >have been laid down over many wars. The rule of thumb has been that the >first declared faction for a particular character controls that character. >Any subsequent factions must coordinate interaction with the controlling >faction in order to use that character. > This rule will not be changing, nor are we suggesting that it should. > We support this rule one hundred and ten percent. But isn't this the problem you are trying to resolve? A declared faction that controls a particular character that maintains absolute control over that character and refuses to loan out, as it were, this character to another faction because of bias against this new faction. *I* think with all the new factions that have lately appeared that this "Absolute Control" rule be removed and a "Central Character Control" be setup. Someone who is faction-neutral and has knowledge of scheduling software. In this way requests for characters and time slots could be controlled and we would do away with characters being at two different places at the same time, the unpleasantness of having to petition for the use of a character, and hurt feeling when misunderstandings and arguments arise. I'm not saying that all privileges need to be taken away. It is realized that first declared factions should have first dibs, as it were, in opening posts for there faction's character but after that scheduling of said character should be fair and even handed throughout the war. Discussion anyone? Jan WebMistress of The Dark Knight Lair & Official FK Pagans Page. http://www.alpinemeadow.com/fk/ From - Sat Aug 28 13:07:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Klrj-0000yN-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 13:02:07 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5192; Sat, 28 Aug 99 12:59:55 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0050; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 12:59:55 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 11:55:52 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa Luksus Subject: Re: WAR: ADMIN: Special Announcement To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU In-Reply-To: <002e01bef173$643b6620$f51dfdd0@jonesjan> Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: df24d767a2022ca548b531fd04c830ab At 09:34 AM 08/28/1999 -0700, Jan J. wrote: >I'm not saying that all privileges need to be taken away. It is realized that > first declared >factions should have first dibs, as it were, in opening posts for there > faction's character >but after that scheduling of said character should be fair and even handed > throughout >the war. I've been operating on the theory first come, first served. Only scheduling conflicts justify a turn-down. If we don't like the way Lacroix has been portrayed, then we find a way to get even. (Not that it's been a problem, so far.) Folks are taking this *way* too seriously. It's supposed to be fun, guys. Remember? Attack as a form of affection? F-U-N. Is it Monday yet? Cousin Tok But the end is not goodbye and the Cousinly kitties The sun comes up, seasons change in suburban Chicagoland Through it all, love remains tokaara@wans.net An eternal burning flame ICQ #46441308 / AIM Tokaara Hope lives on, love remains. From - Wed Aug 25 18:54:00 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11JlrD-0002XQ-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:49:27 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8763; Wed, 25 Aug 99 18:47:09 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9131; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:47:09 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 15:26:48 PDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Typo X-To: phase3@gate.net, FKFic-L@lists.psu.edu, fkwar10leaders@eGroups.com, mclisa@mindspring.com To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: faa6e8c7e37b9307c218ea1a44574939 Hello, A typo was in the recap, Converted Vampires will be MORTAL through Saturday Night Midnight Easter Standard Time. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 18:43:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jll1-0004gM-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:43:03 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2693; Wed, 25 Aug 99 18:40:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8699; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 18:40:48 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 15:42:39 PDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: ForeverKnight Warlock Subject: WAR: ADMIN: Typo Correction. X-To: phase3@gate.net, fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu, fkwar10leaders@eGroups.com, mclisa@mindspring.com To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4498c1f7137775a92e256d6ee4d7dde5 Hello, We apologize if this comes through twice, but in the extension detail post recap, there was a typo. Converted Vampires will be Mortal through Saturday Midnight and back to being Vampires on Sunday. More To Come, FKWarlock FKWar10 WarMaster http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Lot/9686/index.html fkwarlocks@egroups.com _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com From - Wed Aug 25 17:57:08 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jb7x-0000Qs-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 07:22:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2534; Wed, 25 Aug 99 07:19:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5397; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 07:19:50 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 12:25:10 +0100 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Tracy Gooding Subject: Re: WAR: Admin: War End Extension To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e0a1eaefbb2090ffbdbfdb56aa1089b3 <> Margie Hammet Can I make a suggestion (I'm not taking part but I am watching)? Two weeks after a full moon, you get a new moon - and you need a new moon for a solar eclipse. It's on my mind because we had one in England two weeks ago. Tracy tracy.gooding@nrpb.org.uk From - Wed Aug 25 17:57:42 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jf3e-00068P-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 11:33:53 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7685; Wed, 25 Aug 99 11:27:31 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0758; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 11:27:31 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 11:27:52 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa McDavid Subject: Re: WAR: Admin: War End Extension X-To: JKocich@aol.com, fkwarlock@hotmail.com, fkwar10leaders@onelist.com To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 9b6a39125456053c9e23fb98fc831bea I meant extension for everything including the war premise, because that's what I though the WM and I and Don had worked out. That's what I've announced, so that's what it will have to be. It will have to be assumed that all posts up to the deadline, except the WM's ending, predate that ending even if only by less than a minute. I hope that helps and I'm sorry for the confusion. McL -----Original Message----- From: JKocich@aol.com To: fkwarlock@hotmail.com ; FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu ; mclisa@mindspring.com ; fkwar10leaders@onelist.com Date: Wednesday, August 25, 1999 12:49 AM Subject: Re: WAR: Admin: War End Extension >The Listowner posted an announcement that the War had been >extended through this weekend. Since an FK War comes with >a Premise, the *assumption* was that the Premise would, >naturally, be extended as well. > >Several factions took Lisa at her word, as we always do , and >we planned to move a complex series of posts into the weekend >that had just been handed us. > >Now, after believing what we had been told by the Listowner, we >are presented with something else entirely. > >The War *Premise* will end, but ... the War will go on, with the >vamps as vamps. > >That makes NO sense whatsoever, and it's at complete odds with >what we originally understood, and what we have planned for. > >Why cannot the Premise end, as it traditionally does, with the end >of the War? > >What IS this mysterious event that seems to be the only reason for >the War being extended? > >I have felt blind during most of this particular War. > >But now I feel well and truly blindsided. > > >Dispiritedly, >Julia >JKocich@aol.com From - Wed Aug 25 17:57:48 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jfk6-0000S3-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 12:17:42 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5045; Wed, 25 Aug 99 12:14:46 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2789; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 12:14:46 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 12:16:16 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: Re: WAR: Admin: War End Extension To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 21c54b27a3367bb2a41f7077749f06c5 At 12:02 AM 8/25/99 EDT, Julia wrote: >...The War *Premise* will end, but ... the War will go on, with the >vamps as vamps. >That makes NO sense whatsoever, and it's at complete odds with >what we originally understood, and what we have planned for. The *premise* can continue -- remember, for every conflict and resolution, there is an aftermath. In War, the aftermath usually includes "departing Toronto" posts, summation posts, etc. Also, presuming that (since we have to put all the toys back in the box) the Undead are all revamped (pun intended), one must ask whether or not *they've* progressed as characters by this exposure, what lasting effects the temporary remortalization might have have on the vamps, and if there are no lasting effects, *why* there aren't any lasting effects. (Heck -- do the vamps remember their two weeks of mortality at all?) To cease the War the second the Galen's cube is reassembled deprives us of this necessary reflection over the events that brought us all to War in the first place. Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Wed Aug 25 17:58:01 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jh2s-0007S3-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:41:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7840; Wed, 25 Aug 99 13:38:50 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7026; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:38:51 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 12:40:42 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Margie Hammet Subject: Re: WAR: Admin: War End Extension To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: f0da16d89b2b12b6dbeed5eff34fa948 McLisa wrote: >I meant extension for everything including the war premise, because that's >what I though the WM and I and Don had worked out. That's what I've >announced, so that's what it will have to be. It will have to be assumed >that all posts up to the deadline, except the WM's ending, predate that >ending even if only by less than a minute. At 12:16 PM 8/25/99 -0400, Brenda F. Bell wrote: >In War, the aftermath usually includes "departing Toronto" posts, summation >posts, etc. Also, presuming that ... the Undead are all revamped ... one must >ask whether or not *they've* progressed as characters by this exposure ... >To cease the War the second the Galen's cube is reassembled deprives us of >this necessary reflection over the events that brought us all to War in the >first place. Hi McLisa, I would also like to have a little time after the war premise is over, just for saying goodbye to my faction-mates, but three days seems to me to be excessive. Would it work for everyone if the war premise itself were over on Midnight between Saturday and Sunday, or even some time on Sunday night, giving us at least a few hours after everything has returned to normal? Margie (treeleaf@io.com) From - Sat Aug 28 13:56:52 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KmgH-0002ZI-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 13:54:21 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4215; Sat, 28 Aug 99 13:52:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2941; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 13:52:04 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 13:52:21 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: alternate universes X-To: fic To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 4e05113a3a8c957c8454ccf6ad284bee Given the objection of the War 8 WM, then, the War 8 link reference. have to be deleted from the solution in the matter of character use for this war. However, since alternate universes are a long-established device in fantasy and science fiction and fantasy, the solution can simply use a character pulled in from an alternate universe, Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Wed Aug 18 18:31:16 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HBt2-00064D-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 16:00:40 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8553; Wed, 18 Aug 99 15:53:19 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 1356; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 15:53:19 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 14:55:05 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Bonnie Rutledge Subject: War: Conversion Day Pins To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 23c00a625c7a7d424e2927dd4498cd3d It just occurred to me that many people may be set no mail for all topics but this one. Sorry if you get this twice. Posted with McLisa's permission... ******************************************************* Conversion Day is almost here! For those who haven't been around long enough to know, Conversion Day is a holiday Nunkies Anonymous created that celebrates the anniversary of when a vampire was brought across (kind of like an undead birthday), specifically LaCroix's Conversion Day. Since we know LC became a vamp during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, Conversion Day has been celebrated the past two years between August 23rd 1pm and August 24th 10am (approximating the time span of Pompeii's destruction. To celebrate C-Day this year, I've made up some 2 1/4" round pins. I'll be giving them away for free, while supplies last. If you'd like a Conversion Day pin, all I need is a mailing address to send it to. There's no charge (don't ask to send me postage - this is a gift!), but I'll only send one C-Day pin per person. You can see the pin art on the Web at . The C-Day pin is #7. (Pins #1-6 are for NA only.) Pins mailed in the US take less than a week to arrive. Pins mailed internationally take around 2 weeks because airmail is soooo sloooow. Note: When I've done pins on NA, every once in I while I have a pin returned because some teensy bit of info is left out. Make sure the address you send me is as complete as possible. If I'm mailing to your online name, make sure whoever picks up your mail (or maybe even delivers it) knows so they won't return to sender. Please, PLEASE, send any pin requests OFFLIST. My e-mail is I don't want to see any addresses posted on forkni-l! ************************************************************************** Bonnie Rutledge......Perky Redhead, Barbarian, Evil Nunkies Anonymous Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/~br1035/nunkies.html From - Fri Aug 27 06:26:06 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KCbK-0005Fw-00; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:22:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2441; Thu, 26 Aug 99 23:18:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9989; Thu, 26 Aug 1999 23:18:36 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 22:10:15 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Tiff Petherbridge Subject: WAR: I Need Everybody's Help! To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 29446d344dce3f7053480219f5db7e81 Okay the war is almost over, and I'm going to need everybody's help with something. In my opening post, I stated I was going to be filming a documentary. Well, it is assumed that I've been going around filming events in the war. So, with the end of the war in sight, I've decided to post the screenplay to the documentary on the Fanfic List when it is all over. Here's the part I need your help with. Anybody that wants to appear in said doc, please contact me offlist about what you'd like to be in the documentary. It would also be really great if all the faction leaders would contact me and give me a summary of what occured through their P.O.V. Uh, I guess that it. Evil Cousin Tiff =D -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Get your free Canadian email address at http://mail.webcity.ca/ powered by OutBlaze From - Fri Aug 27 18:03:24 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KQJa-0003o5-00; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 14:01:26 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7767; Fri, 27 Aug 99 13:55:34 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8062; Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:55:34 -0400 Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 13:58:52 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Sandra Gray Subject: WAR: Mistake made on two war posts To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 915ae1121ec81527bcf779a8a2dd30d0 Despite doing a final check of my war posts before posting, I just noticed I made a mistake in the credits on two of them. I credited Chris Rosmini for input and some dialogue in the posts, "Knighties Check Out a Book (1/1)" and "Heart's Desire (1/1)". The pertinent credit line in both those posts should read: by Sandra Gray, with input and some dialogue by Chris Forward My apologies, Chris Forward, for the mistake. Should I repost corrected versions of these posts with the correct credits information to fkfic-l? Sandra Gray, forever Knightie sandragray@rica.net From - Sat Aug 21 10:15:46 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IBlU-0007JS-00; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 10:05:00 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6426; Sat, 21 Aug 99 10:02:53 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 5216; Sat, 21 Aug 1999 10:02:53 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1999 09:05:51 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: CLone Star Software Subject: Re: WAR: N&Npack contact me please! To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu In-Reply-To: Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 39b50e087ff4944f872e7487f2c002c9 At 12:37 AM 8/21/1999 -0700, you wrote: >N&Npack, anyone, contact me please. > >Adriana >adrimcm@home.com (knightie) I'm with the N&NP, what's up? :) Marci C (aka Nightlady) Proud Survivor of Wars 8&9 N&NP; NH Wife #17; MadNat; Sr Delight -DSS Convent; KHS; NA; V4S; TxKD;KB;GWDFC;NA; FoD; DarkNN; IRC Efnet # N&NNUTS 'Momma' email: cstar@airmail.net, forevrnite@usa.net Web page: http://www.crosswinds.net/~forevrnite/index.html From - Sat Aug 28 14:12:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KmwJ-0004Rc-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:10:55 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7592; Sat, 28 Aug 99 14:01:57 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3732; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:01:57 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:02:17 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: Ok, that does it X-To: fic X-cc: Don Fasig , fkwarlock@hotmail.com To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 207fa3ff908c5a5e776b1526bb56c8d9 There will not be another FK war while I am listowner. I've had it clear up over my head. I'm sick and tired of a handful of supposed adults behaving like a bunch of nursery school children. Wars are supposed to be fun and lighthearted. Apparently this no longer possible. That's that. Whether I'm going to remain as listowner is something I'll decide later. But there isn't going to be another war and that is that. To those of you who have been playing nicely and going by tradition as explained, I'm sorry. McLisa From - Sat Aug 28 14:22:30 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kn2A-0004gs-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:16:58 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4339; Sat, 28 Aug 99 14:12:28 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4160; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:12:28 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:11:39 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: Re: War: Ok, that does it To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: b465329318959bbf877b9c760534012d {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{LISA}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}} }}}}}}}}}}}}}}} I'm sorry I'm contributing to the mess ... Laur From - Sat Aug 28 14:27:29 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Kn9E-0004s0-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:24:16 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7635; Sat, 28 Aug 99 14:15:11 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4297; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:15:11 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 14:14:22 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: Re: War: Ok, that does it Oops To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ac262445cecec430ab4c70b540936c33 Oops that should have gone privately, but I think we should all give McLisa a big hug. Laurie From - Wed Aug 25 17:58:02 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Jh8e-0004EK-00; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:47:10 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 6070; Wed, 25 Aug 99 13:44:38 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7656; Wed, 25 Aug 1999 13:44:38 -0400 Date: Wed, 25 Aug 1999 12:46:30 -0500 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Margie Hammet Subject: War: Oops and Apology To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: cd3837ed07ba01c05b60314d8ac2feb4 Arrgh! I just sent a post to the list that was meant to go privately to McLisa. I plead lack of sleep due to the war, and I apologize. I also apologize for sending another post earlier that should have had "WAR:" as the first thing in the subject header, but didn't. Bring 'em back alive! Margie (treeleaf@io.com) Cousin of the Knight ~ N&NPacker Kickstart the Knight!: http://jessica.simplenet.com/ktk From - Mon Aug 23 06:19:59 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Iln3-0005t1-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:33:01 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2583; Mon, 23 Aug 99 00:30:52 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9367; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:30:52 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 00:32:27 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Nom de Plume Subject: WAR: Open Circle Reminder To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5902e16379d54738790ef71548b62aba A couple of days ago, I realized that I hadn't sent out a reminder about the open Circle the NatPack is holding. So, here it is. == The NatPack would like to invite all Witches, Wiccans, Pagans (techno and otherwise) and anyone else open-minded to an open circle on August 26, 1999. If you wish to attend, please RSVP (i.e., giving permission for you to be written into the story) to Robyn (Josette@aol.com) by August 22. More details still to come. == Since I've been lax about getting a reminder out, I'm extending the RSVP deadline to Monday, August 23 at 11:59 PM EDT. If you are interested, please let me know OFFLIST. Later details will be sent via private email. Similarly, if you have already RSVP'd and will be *unable* to attend, due to war plot-twists or what have you, please let me know ASAP so I can take your name off the list. Thank you. ========================================================== Robyn ~ Josette@aol.com ~ http://thor.prohosting.com/~nanette/menu.htm Nanette & Associate *NatPack* Webmistress ~ XPhile * Slayerette * Xenite ~ ========================================================== "Sanity is relative. For some of us, it's just a distant cousin." From - Mon Aug 23 18:13:37 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11IvdY-0002h4-00; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 11:03:52 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 7631; Mon, 23 Aug 99 11:00:43 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9253; Mon, 23 Aug 1999 11:00:43 -0400 Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 11:02:38 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Gubs Subject: Re: WAR: Open Circle Reminder To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU In-Reply-To: <199908230432.AAA29311@is7.nyu.edu> Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 5daa3a1280e88e86ee4575b825eb6706 Hey, Could I be in on the circle. I am a merc techno-pagan. If you want any more info on me I'd be happy to give it "A person is smart, people are dumb panicky dangerous animals" Gubs From - Sat Aug 07 22:59:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11DJ7G-0003Ox-00; Sat, 07 Aug 1999 22:55:19 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5451; Sat, 07 Aug 99 22:53:22 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 7017; Sat, 7 Aug 1999 22:53:22 -0400 Date: Sat, 7 Aug 1999 21:55:37 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: Re: War: Ravenettes: Help wanted To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 33ff01af6bf1e14dc437ad40826e7fb9 >Alexander J. Braun wrote: >Love it Kathy shows STYLE Yes, but it would have been even better if the facts were correct. Laurie MercBard, lschlag@reporters.net Mercenary Guild GHP, Head Troublette; First One, Clan Knotwell "Being right all the time is a heavy burden, especially when you're wrong" - GHP Pearls of Wisdom From - Sun Aug 08 17:18:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11DaIn-0003fE-00; Sun, 08 Aug 1999 17:16:22 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8847; Sun, 08 Aug 99 17:14:25 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3673; Sun, 8 Aug 1999 17:14:25 -0400 Date: Sun, 8 Aug 1999 17:14:25 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Susan M. Garrett" Subject: Re: War: Ravenettes: Help wanted To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 8e2011677c2d428a5caebbabe1edcbee >Alexander J. Braun wrote: >Love it Kathy shows STYLE Laurie Schlagel >Yes, but it would have been even better if the facts were correct.> Except, of course, when the facts are oh-so-UNstylish. susang@vitinc.com -- http://www.vitinc.com/~susang EVER Faithful Ravenette. http://www.geocities.com/Vienna/2167/fiction.htm "Friends help you move. Real friends help you move bodies." From - Sun Aug 08 17:23:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11DaM4-0003Se-00; Sun, 08 Aug 1999 17:19:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 8867; Sun, 08 Aug 99 17:17:45 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 3922; Sun, 8 Aug 1999 17:17:45 -0400 Date: Sun, 8 Aug 1999 17:19:30 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Libby Singleton Subject: Re: War: Ravenettes: Help wanted To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 12c2bebd5bba0efbc41d09e9389aabfc In a message dated 8/8/99 4:16:30 PM Central Daylight Time, susang@VITINC.COM writes: > Except, of course, when the facts are oh-so-UNstylish. ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH --Libs From - Sun Aug 08 17:28:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11DaRs-00049l-00; Sun, 08 Aug 1999 17:25:44 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1608; Sun, 08 Aug 99 17:23:45 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 4216; Sun, 8 Aug 1999 17:23:45 -0400 Date: Sun, 8 Aug 1999 16:25:30 -0400 Reply-To: Laurie Schlagel Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Laurie Schlagel Subject: Re: War: Ravenettes: Help wanted To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8011 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 156a9c6986bcb3f7de4590a56f3495a1 Of course, the Mercs have always found basic black quite sufficient. Laurie MercBard, lschlag@reporters.net Mercenary Guild GHP, Head Troublette; First One, Clan Knotwell "Being right all the time is a heavy burden, especially when you're wrong" - GHP Pearls of Wisdom From - Fri Aug 20 06:34:28 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=lists.psu.edu) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Hf0R-00006T-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 23:06:15 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by lists.psu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4735; Thu, 19 Aug 99 22:54:03 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2559; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 22:54:03 -0400 Date: Thu, 19 Aug 1999 21:04:05 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Cousin Mary Subject: War: Reese Request X-To: fkwar10leaders@egroups.com X-cc: fkwar10leaders@egroups.com, fkwar10leaders@onelist.com To: FORKNI-L@lists.psu.edu Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 6f34a51922c86e194ce1f88a0358067d Hi all! I need Reese for a post tonight, between 10 and 1 AM I think. If there's any conflicts contact me at anteros@juno.com Thanks! Cousin Mary........ The Dark Perk Godmother of Wars 9 & 10, I'm a DP Thug, ask me how! http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Hollow/1228/dpwar10.htm ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. Free software, free e-mail, and free Internet access for a month! Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. From - Thu Aug 19 06:20:15 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HJ25-000238-00; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:38:29 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3571; Wed, 18 Aug 99 23:32:48 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 8126; Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:32:48 -0400 Date: Wed, 18 Aug 1999 23:39:08 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: "Brenda F. Bell" Subject: WAR: Request use of Liam O'Neill X-cc: fkwarlocks@egroups.com To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 292b729ca72966032198020247df6042 For Wednesday evening August 18 through Thursday August 19. Brenda F. Bell webwarren@earthlink.net /nick T`Mana AOL-IM: n2kye Celtic Glow Worm: http://members.tripod.com/~celtic_glowworm/index.html Visit the Fiendish Glow http://home.earthlink.net/~webwarren/glow/ From - Sat Aug 28 16:21:27 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11KosR-0007Al-00; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:15:03 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 4842; Sat, 28 Aug 99 16:12:41 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 0705; Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:12:41 -0400 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 16:13:01 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: Staying as Listowner X-To: fic To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ebbc4fbd132e898650227f42c0bb33b7 First, I apologize for the way I expressed myself in my original That Does It post. Being a listowner does not exempt me from the no-flaming rule. I ought to have remembered that. I'm still annoyed and I still at present intend to have no more wars, but must admit that I may change my mind when under less pressure from real life. I can tell everyone this: if there ever is another war, there will first be a set of written general war rules, over and above the premise and any necessary WM rulings. All participants would have to swear a blood-oath in writing that they had read the rules and would abide by them under penalty of nopost. Thank you, everyone, who has written such kind support. I appreciate it all very much. Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ga7v-0004lj-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:41:32 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3331; Mon, 16 Aug 99 23:39:24 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6811; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:39:19 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:34:03 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Teresita Tazon Organization: Forever Knight-Vaquera w/ T&V tendencies Subject: WAR: VAQS A Revelation 01/01 To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 67ea13f81231acf53834f44eaca031ce Written by Tracy Sue, Vaqmommy Posted by Teresita War: Vaqs A Revelation (1/1) Monday August 16 Late Night by Tracy Sue, Vaqmommy A Revelation (1/1) Tracy Sue giggled uncontrollably. As people passed her on the street, they pulled away from her as if she were crazy. She honestly didn't care what they thought. Her own faction trashed the church. She just closed a deal to swap headquarters with Nunkies Anonymous. Somewhere, the gods of war were smiling on her. She smiled a secret smile, and wondered whether there were such things, and if they looked as handsome as she imagined Aries and Thor to look. Briefly, she contemplated telling her faction that the deal was closed. 'Nah, let them sweat it out.' She giggled again. 'I'll tell them later. Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Why? Because I'm a sucker for Vachon! ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Tue Aug 17 06:58:14 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11Ga8D-0006Y2-00; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:41:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 3334; Mon, 16 Aug 99 23:39:44 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 6834; Mon, 16 Aug 1999 23:39:44 -0400 Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 20:31:25 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Teresita Tazon Organization: Forever Knight-Vaquera w/ T&V tendencies Subject: WAR: VAQS A Revelation 01/01 To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: Status: U X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: e1526ec06a9ec6ec0b8b271a03f38419 Written by Tracy Sue, Vaqmommy Posted by Teresita War: Vaqs A Revelation (1/1) Monday August 16 Late Night by Tracy Sue, Vaqmommy A Revelation (1/1) Tracy Sue giggled uncontrollably. As people passed her on the street, they pulled away from her as if she were crazy. She honestly didn't care what they thought. Her own faction trashed the church. She just closed a deal to swap headquarters with Nunkies Anonymous. Somewhere, the gods of war were smiling on her. She smiled a secret smile, and wondered whether there were such things, and if they looked as handsome as she imagined Aries and Thor to look. Briefly, she contemplated telling her faction that the deal was closed. 'Nah, let them sweat it out.' She giggled again. 'I'll tell them later. Tracy Sue war 10 Vaqmommy Why? Because I'm a sucker for Vachon! ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html From - Thu Aug 19 19:48:11 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11HbtI-0003nq-00; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:46:41 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 9829; Thu, 19 Aug 99 19:44:32 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9185; Thu, 19 Aug 1999 19:44:32 -0400 Date: Fri, 20 Aug 1999 08:45:35 +0900 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Cousin Raven Subject: War: welcome to humanity janette story To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: ed68c4c08586a28f43b14ebd6f46a69d We need to change the timeline of this story to monday night. Thanks Cousin Raven, the Enforcer (raven@naturesong.com) Enforcements Captain Evil and Chaos Incarnate Enforcers: Vampires with attitude! Info at: http://www.naturesong.com/enforcers/warhq.htm From - Sun Aug 29 12:37:09 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11L7sw-0000ys-00; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:32:50 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0174; Sun, 29 Aug 99 12:23:00 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 9438; Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:23:00 -0400 Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 12:23:20 -0400 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Lisa McDavid Subject: War: Yes, there will be another X-To: fic To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: a59da065991946e8f8082ba61d9570e2 I just want to say, in response to a number of offlist enquiries and because I've recovered my cool (or whatever I usually have ), that yes, there will be another war. It will be at least six months, maybe longer, which is not unusual. There will be much working out, with input from you, of a standard set of war rules which will be separate from the premise and rulings which a WM makes. Cousin McLisa (Lisa McDavid) "That will be Trouble." mclisa@mindspring.com Listowner Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l From - Sun Aug 08 00:14:10 1999 Return-path: Envelope-to: stephke@IGLOU.COM Received: from [128.118.56.2] (helo=LISTS.PSU.EDU) by iglou.com with smtp (8.9.3/8.9.3) id 11DKGb-0000to-00; Sun, 08 Aug 1999 00:09:02 -0400 Received: from PSUVM.PSU.EDU by LISTS.PSU.EDU (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 5968; Sun, 08 Aug 99 00:07:02 EDT Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@PSUVM) by PSUVM.PSU.EDU (LMail V1.2c/1.8c) with BSMTP id 2747; Sun, 8 Aug 1999 00:07:02 -0400 Date: Sat, 7 Aug 1999 21:10:35 -0700 Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show Sender: Forever Knight TV show From: Teresita Tazon Organization: Forever Knight-Vaquera w/ T&V tendencies Subject: WAR:Re: Re: War: Ravenettes: Help wanted To: FORKNI-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Message-Id: X-Mozilla-Status: 8001 X-Mozilla-Status2: 00000000 X-UIDL: 02d6798730a95f5a45f016557da8ddcc ----- Original Message ----- From: Laurie Schlagel To: Sent: Saturday, August 07, 1999 6:55 PM Subject: Re: War: Ravenettes: Help wanted > >Alexander J. Braun wrote: > >Love it Kathy shows STYLE > To which Laurie MercBard replies: > Yes, but it would have been even better if the facts were correct. Okay, but it would have been even better if the post was corrected rather than criticized. Teresita "Mi alma es Vaquera"="My soul is Vaquera", VWT1, Vaq Scribe Trio Look! Up in the air! It's a hot air balloon! teresitatazon@netzero.net ________________________________________________________ NetZero - We believe in a FREE Internet. Shouldn't you? Get your FREE Internet Access and Email at http://www.netzero.net/download/index.html