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 go