Variant Earth 13 E Mail Game Archive Number 5

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Mon, 18 Jan 1999 23:08:08 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Andy Hicks wrote:

> "I don't know about you, lady, but I'd feel a whole lot better when 
> the authorities show up if I was hidin' out with 'America's Finest', 
> instead of standin' around out here.  I'm gonna head inside that big 
> S.O.B. before somebody gets the chance to point the finger at me fer 
> all this crap.  Especially since it seems like yer the one in the 
> middle of all this trouble.  Robo-broad made it sound like somebody 
> wants you taken care of in a major way.

> "Now I ain't involved in the bounty huntin' racket no more, unless ya 
> count bein' on the other side of the chase.  But I happen to know that 
> the old fella that just went inside IS.  So you might not wanna 
> mention the hefty price tag you got attached to that giant chip on yer 
> shoulder.

> "You can trust ME not to take ya down for the money.  But if ya don't 
> watch yer damn mouth, I might just have to beat your ass on 
> principle..."

> With that I turn to go inside the Joes' cruiser.

Oh, and Bil Lockwood wrote:

> Natasha looked back at the mess of the clothing store window and just
> shrugged, figuring the D.A.A. would clean up the loose ends.

> "What the hell...Besides, Clutch is getting me a drink!" she spouted 
> in an off-handed manner.

> With a shrug she wandered into the back of the carrier, taking a look
> around.

> "Anyway, Hardcore, you said something about not being in the bounty
> hunting business anymore. Might have even implied that some people 
> have their eyes on you, too. What're you wanted for?" she tossed out 
> as she poked around at the furnishings.

> "I supposedly committed an act of terrorism on American soil." she 
> idly commented, trying to act nonchalantly.

> "Hey Clutch! Where the hell's that drink?! I'm really getting...
> thirsty." she drawled off, slumping into the nearest seat.

(possible response space)

While you talk, the two of you meander into the G.I.Joe covert ops bus,
and note that this thing is built for business.  The thing has a fully
stocked arsenal, the vehicle bay in back, bunks for about six ops, a
fully functional kitchen, a bathroom, and more.

Like that surveillance kiosk over there behind the driver's seat.  And
the bar, which is mostly for the benefit of any military or government
high-ups who want to see how our tax dollars are spent.  And a first aid
area.  It even has a small holding zone, for unruly types!

It's compact, but very, very functional.

At any rate, the bus starts up as soon as you two sit down in the small
kitchen area, and the team leader begins with the questions.  "So, Miss
Huston, what exactly were you doing there in the Ariel-Shijitzu
building, again?"

"Clutch tells me that you ran into some sort of combat robot while you
were raiding the place.  And what's your story, fella?  You've got ex
military all over you.  And you do fit the description of somebody
causing a ruckus in town here earlier."

He shows you the police report.  Not that you think the police sketch
artist got your hair right.  Or your face, for that matter.  Doesn't
even look like you, unless you look at it just right.  Though a couple
of tequilas might help out in that aspect...

(possible response space)

"Oh, and since we'll be spending just a bit of time together, my name's
Hawk.  Colonel Hawk."  Just then, Clutch shows up with some Grog for you
and him, Jinx.  Noticing the look Hawk just gave him, he sort of shrugs.
"Hey, she promised to dance for me."

He just raises his eyebrow at that.

And when he gets over it, he pipes up again.  "Before we finish, by the
way, we need to make a stop at the local airport.  Seems there was some
sort of accident over there, an accident that only a really big
explosion could've caused.  We need to look into that now."

"Interrogating you isn't our first priority right now, especially if we
can help to catch whoever was behind this 'accident'.  Is that a problem
for either one of you?  Or your mercenary friend back there?", he asks
the two of you and Hazzard, who's patching Tangerine up.

(even more possible response space)

"Clutch, you and Grunt should drive us to this Eppley Airport right
away.  Show 'em our real papers, and they should let us right in, okay?"

(?)

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Mon, 18 Jan 1999 23:49:58 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

"Hey, Hey, Wait for me...I hope they have donuts in there. All this
movin' around makes a guy hungry."

Masque gathers his robes and jumps right in line behind Sil and Och. All
the while smiling because he is sure they have donuts in there.


Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Mon, 18 Jan 1999 23:12:51 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Christopher W. Acers wrote:
 
> "Hey, Hey, Wait for me...I hope they have donuts in there. All this
> movin' around makes a guy hungry."
 
> Masque gathers his robes and jumps right in line behind Sil and Och. 
> All the while smiling because he is sure they have donuts in there.
 
>> There's a very, very large man with golden brown skin minding the 
>> door, but he doesn't stop you from entering as you approach.  Just 
>> the opposite, in fact.  "Welcome to the PsychoAnimists' Enclave.  
>> Enjoy your stay, friends, and don't forget to open your minds to that 
>> which you normally ignore..."

> "Oh Hello there..PsychoAnimists huh? Not too long ago I was just
> Blaspheming yer church...but After meeting someone who hears the
> voices...i can not be so sure now.  Do you have any donuts?"
 
> <and away we go>

The man looks at you in a queer manner, as if you'd said you enjoy
eating live chickens.  "Well, at least you've opened your mind to that
which is unusual.  But then, by looking at your obscure garb, I guess
you've already done *that*."

"Come on inside, friends, and enjoy some complimentary treats.  Every
Tuesday is sacred to the church, and we offer free doughnuts and orange
juice to all who enter, even if they don't stay very long."  Well, do
you come in, you three?

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 00:41:40 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

> "Come on inside, friends, and enjoy some complimentary treats.  Every
> Tuesday is sacred to the church, and we offer free doughnuts and orange
> juice to all who enter, even if they don't stay very long."  Well, do
> you come in, you three?

"Woohoo!", Masque says.

Subject: Repost Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem! Read this one!
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 01:20:58 -0600
From:    Andy Hicks <ahix@mail.utexas.edu>

>Natasha looked back at the mess of the clothing store window and just
>shrugged, figuring the D.A.A. would clean up the loose ends.

>"What the hell...Besides, Clutch is getting me a drink!" she spouted in
>an off-handed manner.

>With a shrug she wandered into the back of the carrier, taking a look
>around.

>"Anyway, Hardcore, you said something about not being in the bounty
>hunting business anymore. Might have even implied that some people have
>their eyes on you, too. What're you wanted for?" she tossed out as she
>poked around at the furnishings.

"None of yer business.  I'll just say that I know a lot more than I should
about what some evil people are tryin' to pull while nobody's watchin'.
And I'm gonna do everything I can to keep 'em from doin' it anymore.  I
reckon they don't like that too much.  

"I ain't too happy about it either, but I've got some payin' up to do
myself.  I just gotta go about it in a different way, I guess." 

>"I supposedly committed an act of terrorism on American soil." she idly
>commented, trying to act nonchalantly.

"'Supposedly'?  That's why they got that price on your head?  I ain't sure
what that means, but I'm sure you'd be glad to fill me in on it.  You must
have done somethin' pretty bad to make somebody that mad..."

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 01:38:29 -0600
From:    Andy Hicks <ahix@mail.utexas.edu>

>It's compact, but very, very functional.

"I see the government still ain't hurtin' for cash."  

>At any rate, the bus starts up as soon as you two sit down in the small
>kitchen area, and the team leader begins with the questions.  "So, Miss
>Huston, what exactly were you doing there in the Ariel-Shijitzu
>building, again?"

>"Clutch tells me that you ran into some sort of combat robot while you
>were raiding the place.  And what's your story, fella?  You've got ex
>military all over you.  And you do fit the description of somebody
>causing a ruckus in town here earlier."

>He shows you the police report.  Not that you think the police sketch
>artist got your hair right.  Or your face, for that matter.  Doesn't
>even look like you, unless you look at it just right.  Though a couple
>of tequilas might help out in that aspect...

"I didn't cause a damn thing.  Certainly nothin' you'd be interested in.
Just at the wrong place at the wrong time, tryin' to take care of some
business.  Didn't hurt anybody that didn't need to be." 

>"Oh, and since we'll be spending just a bit of time together, my name's
>Hawk.  Colonel Hawk."  Just then, Clutch shows up with some Grog for you
>and him, Jinx.  Noticing the look Hawk just gave him, he sort of shrugs.
>"Hey, she promised to dance for me."

>He just raises his eyebrow at that.

>And when he gets over it, he pipes up again.  "Before we finish, by the
>way, we need to make a stop at the local airport.  Seems there was some
>sort of accident over there, an accident that only a really big
>explosion could've caused.  We need to look into that now."

>"Interrogating you isn't our first priority right now, especially if we
>can help to catch whoever was behind this 'accident'.  Is that a problem
>for either one of you?  Or your mercenary friend back there?", he asks
>the two of you and Hazzard, who's patching Tangerine up.

"I'll do what I can," I answer not so enthusiastically before thinking to
myself, "Not that I have much choice in the matter.  Probably best to stay
on the soldier boys' good side, though.  Maybe I can get outta this without
too much more trouble."

>"Clutch, you and Grunt should drive us to this Eppley Airport right
>away.  Show 'em our real papers, and they should let us right in, okay?"

Subject: [v13] A beginning... (Reaper)
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 01:40:08 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Like you have been for the last several months, you borrowed an empty
hotel room in order to get a warm place to sleep for the night.  Sure,
this isn't necessarily legal, but then, it's not like the law is the
least of your concerns right now.

You're still having to deal with knowing everything.

Or potentially knowing everything, at least.  Bloody part-time
omniscience isn't as fun as people'd like to think it would be.  Oh,
sure, you can know things about people that they'd like to keep secret.
The trick is finding out anything specific.

For instance, you look at your common thug with that omniscience, and
what happens?  You know his name, what he normally eats for lunch, his
social security number, his credit report, his rap sheet, his general
buying habits, his generally illegal habits, and more.

Great.  But what happens when you're just trying to figure out what he's
got in his pocket?  All that useless information (well, useless to you,
since you're trying to figure out what he's got in his pocket),
overwhelms what you're looking for.

By the time you sift through it all, he's typically already pulled that
gun on you anyway.

At any rate, you're simply resting on that antiseptic smelling, more
than sufficiently hard hotel matress, when you finally doze off for the
night.  And, as is usually the case, your omniscience decides to kick in
while you're asleep, making your dreams really interesting.

For instance, you were dreaming that you were driving this ice cream
truck up a spiraling mountain road, though the mountain was inside a
Pepsi (TM) truck for some reason, itself speeding down a highway.  This
is perfectly natural for you because, in your dream, that's normal.

After you hit a particularly rough lump in the road, it suddenly gets
all dark.  The mountain and Pepsi (TM) truck give way to a small town;
Elk Snout, Wyoming, to be precise.  Hey, it could've been Bear Butte,
Nebraska or some such.

Your mind's eye drifts around the town, watching various folks sleeping,
or as is the case 22% of the time, participating in nocturnal activity.
12% of such isn't actually what you'd think, as some folks are manning
the only Taco Bell (TM) in town.

The 5% of that 12% not working at Taco Bell (TM) are either security
guards or crooks trying to foil them.  Why your mind feels the need to
put such things into percentages for you is, quite frankly, beyond you.
Besides, this is a dream, right? 

Well, you wanted to think so, but then things started happening.  For
one thing, somebody drove into town.  She's about six foot tall, with
long, blood-red hair, and is wearing what you instinctively know to be a
blood-red dress; a one-piece miniskirt number.

She looks like she's dressed to kill.  Literally.

She pulls up to the local, one and only Taco Bell (TM), and places an
order.  You hear her sultry voice order a couple of tacos, along with
one of those silly plush talking rat-dog things they have in their
commercials. Then she pulls 'round to the window, and it happens.

By the time you've sorted out the pheremonal effect her presence has on
the stoned young men, along with the suggestive aspect of her voice, and
the mere mental signal she's emitting there, the Taco Bell (TM) is a
wreck, its employees doing everything they can to kill each other.

About three hours after she arrived in this town, this blood-haired
vixen has reduced it to a warzone, a zone being fought over by six
principal groups of subversive militias that, until yesterday, didn't
exist.

Groups like the Elk Snout Army for Independence, or Independent Elk
Snouts, or even Snouts for Freedom.  It's almost a funny dream, in that
they do all sorts of damage to each other for no good reason, like any
decent action-adventure movie.

That's when the sirens wake you up.  Snapping awake at exactly 6:45 AM,
you hear the wail of several National Guard vehicles driving past the
motel as fast as possible.  Throwing your clothes on in a hurry, you're
dressed in time to meet the Guardsmen that are knocking on your door.

After all, you knew they were coming about three minutes ago.  Once they
discover that you're unarmed and have apparently been there all night,
they act to secure this area in a hurry, because the Free Sons of Elk
Snout are making a push to take the hotel.

One of them stays behind with you.  "Sir, I'm afraid that you'll have to
come with me.  We need to move you for your own safety, because there's
several militias fighting it out here in Elk Snout."  As he motions for
you to come with, you fight off the urge to say 'I Know'.

It's hard.

But then, before you can move, you see it.  Nobody else seems to have
noticed, but a... being... wrapped up in a black cloak and wielding a
scythe has materialized in the middle of Main street.  All little towns
seem to have a Main street.  It usually intersects 1st Street.

That's where Death has come into being on the earthly plane.  And now
you see why.  Down the road, about half a mile away, your omniscience
homes in on what Death's looking at, if that's what it's really doing. 
There's a full tanker truck headed this way.

But it isn't full of gasoline.  It's got a highly deadly gas inside, and
it's about to drive smack into the Elk Snout war zone...  You can just
imagine what a tanker full of deadly gas, in this area rife with mayhem,
is going to mean for the imminent future.

But what're you going to do about it?

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Ronin)
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 10:06:41 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com

Ronin bends down to within earshot of his adversaries, careful not to 
be overhead by the surrounding crowd.

"I would suggest...." he begins calmly, "that you give up your foolish  
antics." Ronin opens his trench a touch.  His blade gleams viciously as 
the light strikes it.  "If I so desire, I can slit your worthless 
throats and leave your dead carcasses here.  Now...once again: who are 
you and what plans does this 'Lord Faltius' have?  Answer now...I am 
-not- a patient man!"

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Ronin)
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 12:00:57 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

They look at each other, and then at you.  Flathead is the one that
talks.  "What do you mean, what plans does Faltius have?  All he's
interested in is Conquest!  He has taken command of most of our own
universe, and fears running out of things to do."

"Which is why he charged Shade here with finding him whole new realities
to raid, plunder, and generally take over.  In the name of the Paran
empire, of course.  Though mostly for his own benefit.  As far as us,
I'm Flathead, as you know.  And this is Shade."

"I'm mostly the hired help, but he's the scientist of the bunch.  He's
the one with the strange and wonderful powers, that magic over machines
stuff.  So if there's anybody you want to kill, it'd be him.  Him, I
say!"

This brings forth a rather bad reaction from his friend.  "Me?  You're
the one that blew this place up, what with your grabbing that gun and
making it explode!  I'll kill YOU!"  He writhes and squirms at his
fellow invader until the police show up.

"I'll kill you!  I'll kill you!  I'll kill you!"  When several cops show
up, the lead one asks you "So you got these guys tied up.  I take it
that they caused all this ruckus?"  Another cop goes to cuff them
proper-like, and a third starts taking pictures of the dead Mike.

She doesn't look like she enjoys her job.  "Hey, where's this guy's
arm?  And his leg?!"

(?)

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Ronin)
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 13:29:27 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

> "I'll kill you!  I'll kill you!  I'll kill you!"  When several cops show up, 
> the lead one asks you "So you got these guys tied up.  I take it that they 
> caused all this ruckus?"  

Ronin nods grimly.  "They did indeed, Officer..."

> Another cop goes to cuff them proper-like, and a third starts taking 
> pictures of the dead Mike. She doesn't look like she enjoys her job.  
> "Hey, where's this guy's arm?  And his leg?!"

Ronin walks over to the 3 Officer and points out where Mike's "parts" are.  

"Arm...there by the pile of rubble.  Leg....over here."

Ronin seems strangely non-plus about all this. Then again, when you hack 
folks with swords for a living, you get use to gore.

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Stone Cold)
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 10:39:35 PST
From:     "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

Reaching for a stone to possible throw at the new person in the cape and 
releasing Tammy.  "Can I help you with something?  Besides that who the 
heck are you while your introducing everyone else?"  Trying not to sound 
to ticked off, by this person that has just revealed my ID to the whole 
universe at large.

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Ronin)
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 14:25:57 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>
 
> Ronin seems strangely non-plus about all this. Then again, when you 
> hack folks with swords for a living, you get use to gore.

Perhaps...

But, at any rate, the third officer takes pics of the leg and, once she
unearths it, the arm.  This gets a bunch of oos and ahs from the police,
as they've never seen a prosthetic arm like *that* before.  Before they
mess with it any further, however, a voice shouts out to the cops.

"Okay, I'm taking command of this situation!  Colonel Hawk, special
anti-terrorist agent.  All of you cops, here - out!  We need to comb
this area for evidence - now!!"  After a slight pause, he continues with
"You just take the prisoners out of here and hold 'em for now..."

"We'll collect 'em once we're done here."

The man, who does indeed appear to be some sort of Colonel, is dressed
in army greens, along with black boots and a big green helmet.  You can
see several other folks moving in behind him, but can't make out any
features just yet.

The blond Colonel then asks you "What exactly happened here, son?"

(?)

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Stone Cold)
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 14:41:55 -0600
From:     Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Well, actually, nobody else is out on the streets just yet.  It would
seem that these Atlanta folks aren't too hip on snow as of yet.  As if
it never happened down here.  Freak weather, you guess.  However, he
knows who you are, and that ain't cool.

The man smiles.  "Why, I'm the Seven Dimensional Man!  And I, my fine
friends, have been hired to find the two of you and... help you run into
an accident.  You see..."  His words seem to trail off at that, and the
city around you gets all blurry.

"I was hired, from your perspective, about a week from now.  And I..." 
he trails off again, and the city seems to be changing before your very
eyes, getting more... Vintage.  Within five seconds, the city's a small
town, then a tiny village, and then, soon enough, totally gone.

"Have just the means to do it.  You see, I am a master of both space and
time, and I..."  Yet another trailing off has shown a vast shift in the
area around you.  The temperature seems to cool off a whole lot, and you
actually see these small mountains of ice hereabout.

"Can get rid of you without anybody being the wiser."  The weird blur in
the area around you ceases, and you see that you've been transported
somewhere else.  Or, with a sinking feeling, you realize that it's
really someWHEN else.

"Welcome to the Ice Age, my friends!  You'll note that the real glaciers
didn't ever reach this far south, I believe, but it's still awfully cold
around here.  Any messages you'd like me to send to your relatives once
it's noted that you've been disappeared?"

Tammy looks at you, and you see this glimmer of rage in her eyes, as if
she'd just caught up to what's going on.  "I got a message for you,
pal..."  You see her tense up, and gather that she's about to give this
guy one heck of a pounding.

If you want to join her, feel free to roll up an initiative, decide just
what it is you wish to do to this Seven Dimensional Man, and any rolls
you feel applicable (if you're not spending Karma on them, of course).

(?)

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Stone Cold)
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 13:21:40 PST
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

Being the P'oed kind of guy that I am right about now.  Init( roll 7)I 
rapidly blast the little creep from never-never land (67+20 karma, 89, 
72+20karma).  As I change to stone.  "And you remember that you piece of 
trash 'cause' Stone Cold said so'!

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Ronin)
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 16:38:09 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

> The blond Colonel then asks you "What exactly happened here, son?"

Ronin recounts exactly what happened in explicit detail.  He even 
includes all the wacky data supplied to him by the aliens Flattop 
and (what's his face).  His tone is matter-of-fact and his 
expression deadpan serious.

"From what I can ascertain," he concludes, "we face a threat from
some  otherworldly power.  You would do well to prepare, Colonel.  
As you can see...." Ronin points around him, "...their power is 
immense.  Their level of technology and ability far surpasses our 
own.  Be ready for the invasion."

Ronin, while he speaks, watches the others with the Colonel to get 
a better look at all of them.

(OOC- Yo Joe!  Sorry....just had to.)

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 19:06:04 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

Natasha grinned as she accepted the grog and slammed it back gasping
audibly as the alcohol cut into her.

"Thanks! I definitely needed that! Anyway, I did enter the
Ariel-Shijitzu building, I did go up to the lab, and I did utterly
destroy a nasty monster robot thing from hell that probably would have
gutted me with machine gun fire and claws if I hadn't been lucky. I
didn't even shoot it first." she just talked out loud to whoever
happened to be listening.

"The Airport? Hmmm...I hope that wasn't my flight." she shrugged as they
moved along the road.

After they had disembarked she looked about the wreckage and just shook
her head.

"Looks like my work, but I don't see any plane bits. Hmmm...maybe not,
then."

After Hawk had interrogated Ronin and received an answer, she piped up,
"Hey, trenchcoat man, do you work for the Ariel-Shijitzu Corporation?"

~This guy has got to be on something. Beings from another dimension?!
Shyah, right!~ she thought to herself.

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 18:56:27 -0700
From:    "Lady Arakne" <araknesweb@darkspiral.com>

> "Come on inside, friends, and enjoy some complimentary treats.  Every
> Tuesday is sacred to the church, and we offer free doughnuts and orange
> juice to all who enter, even if they don't stay very long."  Well, do
> you come in, you three?
 
Sil just looks at the man, her dark green hair glinting in the faint 
light, <<You were saying something about voices??>>

She watched the strange man nearly jump out of his skin, and 
smiled mischievously at him as she slipped past, <<You'd think
he'd never seen a telepath before...>>

tbc...

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 23:04:01 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

> Sil just looks at the man, her dark green hair glinting in the faint
> light, <<You were saying something about voices??>>
 
> She watched the strange man nearly jump out of his skin, and
> smiled mischievously at him as she slipped past, <<You'd think
> he'd never seen a telepath before...>>

As you walk into the church, you note that the foyer has been restored
marvelously.  Expensive oak went into the reconstruction of the place,
and rather recently, too.  In fact, the place is almost crying out to be
looked at and admired.  The wood is virtually singing.

Moving on, you eventually encounter Senor Barnett, and he looks as
though he's in a trance, or some state of shock.  He's just standing
there, looking forward into the church, a totally blank look in his
face.  When you peer inside, you can kind of see why.

The main worship area has also been refurbished with expensive oak, and
every seat in the church, in every wooden bank of chairs, is totally
full.  But not with people; the seats are packed to the brim with all
manner of modern devices.

Toasters, televisions, boom boxes, washing machines, bicycles, lawn
mowers, electric razors, metal detectors, oscilloscopes, laptop
computers, soldering irons, flashlights, VCRs, oscillating fans, and the
occasional megaphone are present, as if in prayer.

And at the altar, behind a vast oaken podium, is a man in those same
monkish robes with a circuit board around his neck on a golden chain. 
He's talking about how, one day, the shackles of non-communication will
be broken, and the so-called inanimate objects will be free at last.

"And yea, when we bring about the rapture, your so-called creators shall
be able to hear your voices like we the faithful can.  Even now, we are
working to make the so-called animates hear you.  In fact, more and more
sensitive folks within blocks of the Church are starting to hear you."

"Then, once they wake up and hear your cries for justice, all will be
made equal, and they shall be forced to treat you as peers.  Now look
inwards, my many friends, and let us say a prayer for our fallen
brethren."

Motioning to a pile of discarded consumer items, the priest starts
mumbling something in a language you don't quite recognize, and there's
a definite audible buzz in the room.  At least you think you're hearing
it.  

In fact, as you know Silhouette, the buzz is in your head, and is the
voices of hundreds and hundreds of supposedly inanimate objects who're
apparently... praying.  Inanimate objects.  Making unknown prayers to
some unknown animating force or deity.  Kinda creepy...

So now that the four of you are here, what do you do now?!

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Stone Cold)
Date:    Tue, 19 Jan 1999 23:23:02 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Okay.

You reach up and blast the Seven Dimensional Man with a torrent of ice
and snow, almost coating him in a solid block of it when he teleports
out of the icy tomb, though he does look a little chillier from your
assault.

Meanwhile, your counterpart looks like she's concentrating real hard,
and the 7-D Man's billowy cape suddenly ties him up, and starts beating
him against the ground with these uncomfortable *thudd* sounds.  Of
course, he again teleports his way to freedom, and makes his move.

He clenches his fist, and the two of you are suddenly wrapped up in some
sort of spacewarp; you manage to make an Endurance FEAT roll to resist
the effect, but Tammy doesn't; you see her body twist and contort in all
sorts of uncomfortable ways, like she were composed of taffy... 

Looks real painful, and the noises she's making definitely confirm that.
This 7-D Man laughs, and then looks at you.  "There, we go.  Now that
your little girlfriend isn't going anywhere soon, I'll just have to deal
with you, and make my way back to the present... without you!  Ha ha!!"

Well... Round 2, I suppose...

(I guess go ahead and roll up yer stuff again, but mekk sure you tell me
which rolls are which; since these were effectively reds, it was easy
enough to sort out what happened to ya, but hey, you might not be so
lucky in the future... heh heh)

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Wed, 20 Jan 1999 00:11:07 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Okay.  Ronin, Jinx, and Hardcore should watch this magic trick real
careful-like, as I juggle around the skiens of time to make all of this
fit together; should be a bit interesting, no...?

the Man wrote:

>> At any rate, the bus starts up as soon as you two sit down in the 
>> small kitchen area, and the team leader begins with the questions.  
>> "So, Miss Huston, what exactly were you doing there in the 
>> Ariel-Shijitzu building, again?"

>> "Clutch tells me that you ran into some sort of combat robot while 
>> you were raiding the place.  And what's your story, fella?  You've 
>> got ex military all over you.  And you do fit the description of 
>> somebody causing a ruckus in town here earlier."

>> He shows you the police report.  Not that you think the police sketch
>> artist got your hair right.  Or your face, for that matter.  Doesn't
>> even look like you, unless you look at it just right.  Though a 
>> couple of tequilas might help out in that aspect...

>> "Oh, and since we'll be spending just a bit of time together, my 
>> name's Hawk.  Colonel Hawk."  Just then, Clutch shows up with some 
>> Grog for you and him, Jinx.  Noticing the look Hawk just gave him, he 
>> sort of shrugs.

>> "Hey, she promised to dance for me."

>> He just raises his eyebrow at that.

Now, this prompted Andy Hicks to write:

> "I didn't cause a damn thing.  Certainly nothin' you'd be interested 
> in.  Just at the wrong place at the wrong time, tryin' to take care of 
> some business.  Didn't hurt anybody that didn't need to be."

The Colonel looks at you with a small smile apparent on his face. 
"Don't worry, son... I'm not out to brow-beat or arrest you.  It just
pays to know the situation when you're walking into it, that's all. 
Besides, we don't busy ourselves with ordinary police matters."

And then, of course, Bil Lockwood wrote:

> Natasha grinned as she accepted the grog and slammed it back, gasping
> audibly as the alcohol cut into her.

> "Thanks! I definitely needed that! Anyway, I did enter the Ariel- 
> Shijitzu building, I did go up to the lab, and I did utterly destroy a 
> nasty monster robot thing from hell that probably would have gutted me 
> with machine gun fire and claws if I hadn't been lucky.  I didn't even 
> shoot it first." she just talked out loud to whoever happened to be 
> listening.

"I see," Hawk says, but comes back with a retort.  "So, what's so
special about this thing you swiped?  Shijitzu reported that you, that
'Time Out' girl, and some shady fellow took some really, really valuable
microprocessor.  So, what'd you do with it, Natasha?"
 
(possible response zone)

And then, the Man wrote:

>> And when he gets over it, he pipes up again.  "Before we finish, by 
>> the way, we need to make a stop at the local airport.  Seems there 
>> was some sort of accident over there, an accident that only a really 
>> big explosion could've caused.  We need to look into that now."

>> "Interrogating you isn't our first priority right now, especially if 
>> we can help to catch whoever was behind this 'accident'.  Is that a 
>> problem for either one of you?  Or your mercenary friend back 
>> there?", he asks the two of you and Hazzard, who's patching Tangerine 
>> up.

>> "Clutch, you and Grunt should drive us to this Eppley Airport right
>> away.  Show 'em our real papers, and they should let us right in, 
>> okay?"
 
Hazzard pipes up now.  "Sure thing, chief.  Just as long as we ain't
under arrest or anything else like that.  After all, it ain't us that
caused all that ruckus back by the Steakhouse.  Or that loudmouth in the
slinky skinsuit, either."

To that, Andy Hicks retorts:

> "I'll do what I can," I answer not so enthusiastically before thinking 
> to myself, "Not that I have much choice in the matter.  Probably best 
> to stay on the soldier boys' good side, though.  Maybe I can get outta 
> this without too much more trouble."

And, then again, Bil Lockwood wrote:

> "The Airport? Hmmm...I hope that wasn't my flight." she shrugged as 
> they moved along the road.

Clutch laughs at you at this point.  "No, I don't believe so.  Those air
force boys are probably still looking after that D.A.A. plane of yours,
Jinxie.  But don't worry, they didn't go through your luggage; they just
threw it in the x-ray machine for a little bit..."

Meanwhile, as the Joe bus pulls up to Eppley Airfield, Hawk hands you
both (both of you being Jinx and Hardcore) a pair of military wear, and
gives Hazzard a similar suit.  Okay, you guys, put this stuff on.  If
I'm right, we might need your expertise here."

"And besides, your help in this matter just might help Uncle Sam to look
more favorably on at least one of you with outstanding warrants."  None
of you are sure exactly who he's talking about, as all three of you are
wanted to some extent by the Law.

(possible response zone)

Arriving on the scene, you spy a major hole in the airport, luckily in a
small side section.  It would appear that the hole is an easy access to
the blast area, so Hawk, Clutch, and Grunt (who you haven't actually met
yet) and whoever else follows him make their way there right quick.

At this point, Bil Lockwood came back with:

> After they had disembarked she looked about the wreckage and just 
> shook her head.

> "Looks like my work, but I don't see any plane bits. Hmmm...maybe not,
> then."

And then, the Man said:

>> The blond Colonel then asks you "What exactly happened here, son?"

To which Ronin replied:

> Ronin recounts exactly what happened in explict detail.  He even 
> includes all the wacky data supplied to him by the aliens Flattop 
> and (what's his face).  His tone is matter-of-fact and his 
> expression deadpan serious.

> "From what I can ascertain," he concludes, "we face a threat from some 
> otherworldly power.  You would do well to prepare, Colonel.  As you 
> can see...." Ronin points around him, "...their power is immense.  
> Their level of technology and ability far surpasses our own.  Be ready 
> for the invasion."

> Ronin, while he speaks, watches the others with the Colonel to get 
> a better look at all of them.

Then, while nobody else was talking, Bil Lockwood wrote:

> After Hawk had interrogated Ronin and received an answer, she piped 
> up, "Hey, trenchcoat man, do you work for the Ariel-Shijitzu 
> Corporation?"

> ~This guy has got to be on something. Beings from another dimension?!
> Shyah, right!~ she thought to herself.

You see the lot of them are wearing Army greens, mostly loose-fitting
outfits, though the lady with the funny-looking guns seems somewhat
unhappy with 'em.  She's the one giving you a doubtful state, while some
of the others inspect the prisoners.

Thinking quickly, Clutch 'accidentally' knocks Flathead over, and before
the prisoner can recover, the Joe grabs Flathead's wrists and removes
those bracers of his.  "Ha!  I know high tech garbage when I see it. 
I'm gonna give these to Flash for analysis!"

This sets Flathead off in a flurry of curses, half of which are in some
indecipherable language, even to those of you skilled in such things. 
While this is taking place, Hardcore, you notice Hazzard picking up
something off the ground, and looking real surprised, he pockets it.

He walks up to you and shows it to you.  It looks suspiciously like a
shot glass, and you can make out the words "Club Invert-" on it. 
Hazzard just says "Make sure you keep a lid on this, or we'll be in much
more trouble than that rag over there."

Of course, he's muttering in the direction of the angry Jinx...

So, now that all of you are together in the rubble, what do you all do
next?!

>> (OOC- Yo Joe!  Sorry....just had to.)

Yeah yeah yeah... =)

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Wed, 20 Jan 1999 00:25:24 -0600
From:    Andy Hicks <ahix@mail.utexas.edu>

>Thinking quickly, Clutch 'accidentally' knocks Flathead over, and before
>the prisoner can recover, the Joe grabs Flathead's wrists and removes
>those bracers of his.  "Ha!  I know high tech garbage when I see it. 
>I'm gonna give these to Flash for analysis!"

>This sets Flathead off in a flurry of curses, half of which are in some
>indecipherable language, even to those of you skilled in such things. 
>While this is taking place, Hardcore, you notice Hazzard picking up
>something off the ground, and looking real surprized, he pockets it.

>He walks up to you and shows it to you.  It looks suspiciously like a
>shot glass, and you can make out the words "Club Invert-" on it.

"Son of a bitch", Harcore marvels, "I'll be damned.  I guess we know where
that vortex goes..."
 
>Hazzard just says "Make sure you keep a lid on this, or we'll be in much
>more trouble than that rag over there."

>Of course, he's muttering in the direction of the angry Jinx...

>So, now that all of you are together in the rubble, what do you all do
>next?!

Hardcore approaches the man named Shade, waits until he can speak to him
alone, and asks, "You fellas headed to Club Invertebrate-- just out for a
drink?  Then how in the hell didya end up in a crater, all tied up and
ready to be thrown in jail?  Huh?  Who's responsible for the explosion?"

"By the way, I ain't with these boys, bub.  Just curious.  You can trust
me..." 

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:  Wed, 20 Jan 1999 05:25:25 EST
From:  "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

> Okay.  Ronin, Jinx, and Hardcore should watch this magic trick real
> careful-like, as I juggle around the skiens of time to make all of this fit 
> together; should be a bit interesting, no...?

Nicely done.  Have to learn that trick...

> After Hawk had interrogated Ronin and received an answer, she piped 
> up, "Hey, trenchcoat man, do you work for the Ariel-Shijitzu 
> Corporation?"

Ronin raises an eyebrow at the angry woman's question.

"I do not" he replies simply.  

> ~This guy has got to be on something. Beings from another > 
dimension?! Shyah, right!~ she thought to herself.

> You see the lot of them are wearing Army greens, mostly 
> loose-fitting outfits, though the lady with the funny-looking guns 
> seems somewhat unhappy with 'em.  She's the one giving you a 
> doubtful state, while some of the others inspect the prisoners.

Ronin watches Jinx's body language and demeanor.  He frowns slightly.
~ She does not believe me...~ he tells himself.

> This sets Flathead off in a flurry of curses, half of which are in 
> some indecipherable language, even to those of you skilled in such 
> things. 

Ronin turns to see the tail-end of this exchange. 

"Those bracelets produce some manner of energy weapon.  Flathead was 
able to conjure a shield and lance apparently made of light...but 
very solid indeed.  With it, he was able to defeat his opponenet 
named Mike.  Mike was some manner of robot man, half-man and 
half-machine.  Mike was quite strong and very skilled. You should be 
careful with those devices."

Ronin then turns back to the Colonel.

"If you are done with your questions, sir, I will depart.  I have a 
plane to catch."

Ronin makes as if to leave.

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Wed, 20 Jan 1999 14:22:42 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

As she pulled the army fatigues over her black skinsuit, Natasha gave
Hawk an idea of what she found:

"The D.A.A. had gotten word that Roy was working on some new AI deelybob
and that he might have something up his sleeve. Well, they were right,
that robot had some neuroprocessor thingee in it that made it downright
dangerous! It was pretty quick on its feet for being a hunk of metal."
she explained.

Jinx just watched the cleanup, keeping an eye out for any trouble, and
tried to catch a peek of the bracers Clutch snagged from Flathead.

"Hey, whatcha got there, bartender?" she asked quietly, trying not to
arouse the suspicion of any other people that happened to still be
around.

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Wed, 20 Jan 1999 17:31:59 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

William Lockwood wrote:
 
> As she pulled the army fatigues over her black skinsuit, Natasha gave
> Hawk an idea of what she found:
 
> "The D.A.A. had gotten word that Roy was working on some new AI 
> deelybob and that he might have something up his sleeve. Well, they 
> were right, that robot had some neuroprocessor thingee in it that made 
> it downright dangerous! It was pretty quick on its feet for being a 
> hunk of metal."  she explained.

"Hmm...", he says, thinking deeply about this.  "I tell you what.  If
you help me out with a couple of things, here, I might be able to get
you out of this legal jam of yours.  But you're still gonna owe me for
this - big time.  And, we'll even put that Shijitzu punk in his place."

(theoretical response zone)

So then, the Man wrote:

>> Thinking quickly, Clutch 'accidentally' knocks Flathead over, and 
>> before the prisoner can recover, the Joe grabs Flathead's wrists and 
>> removes those bracers of his.  "Ha!  I know high tech garbage when I 
>> see it.  I'm gonna give these to Flash for analysis!"

>> This sets Flathead off in a flurry of curses, half of which are in 
>> some indecipherable language, even to those of you skilled in such 
>> things. 

To which Ronin responded:

> Ronin turns to see the tail-end of this exchange. 

> "Those bracelets produce some manner of energy weapon.  Flathead was 
> able to conjure a shield and lance apparently made of light...but 
> very solid indeed.  With it, he was able to defeat his opponenet 
> named Mike.  Mike was some manner of robot man, half-man and 
> half-machine.  Mike was quite strong and very skilled. You should be 
> careful with those devices."

"Will do, tough guy!  With this big-haired goon being unarmed, though,
shouldn't be too big a deal.  Besides, I ain't playing with 'em; I'm
giving 'em to our resident electronics whiz!  If anybody can, he should
be able to treat 'em right!"

So then, Bil Lockwood said:

> Jinx just watched the cleanup, keeping an eye out for any trouble, and
> tried to catch a peek of the bracers Clutch snagged from Flathead.
 
> "Hey, whatcha got there, bartender?" she asked quietly, trying not to
> arrouse the suspicion of any other people that happened to still be
> around.

"Oh... things and stuff.  You heard the man.  Dangerous Things That Were
Not Meant To Be Trifled With.  Of course, I'm not doing the trifling. 
You wanna go back in the bus with me and watch Flash take 'em apart,
Jinx?"

(yet another theoretical response space)

Meanwhile, the Man was saying:

>> Hazzard just says "Make sure you keep a lid on this, or we'll be in 
>> much more trouble than that rag over there."

>> Of course, he's muttering in the direction of the angry Jinx...

> Hardcore approaches the man named Shade, waits until he can speak to 
> him alone, and asks, "You fellas headed to Club Invertebrate-- just 
> out for a drink?  Then how in the hell didya end up in a crater, all 
> tied up and ready to be thrown in jail?  Huh?  Who's responsible for 
> the explosion?"

> "By the way, I ain't with these boys, bub.  Just curious.  You can 
> trust me..." 

The man called Shade looks at you and laughs.  "Ha ha ha!  As if I trust
any of you monkey-evolved things!  But yes, I was, in fact, in transit
to this Club Invertebrate you speak of, but something threw us off
target some, bending the vortex's endpoint to this primitive terminal."

"And then, this exploding gun came at us and blew this area to
pieces..."  Hazzard backs up with that, and whispers to you "I didn't
hear that, and you didn't either.  Keep an eye out for random bits of
concussion rifle, 'cause I'm bettin' they got Hardcore prints on 'em..."

(theoretical response space)

And finally, Ronin said:

> Ronin then turns back to the Colonel.

> "If you are done with your questions, sir, I will depart.  I have a 
> plane to catch."

> Ronin makes as if to leave.

"Actually, son, I need you to stay here for a bit, and fill out an
official report, since you were here for the whole thing.  I can make
sure you get another flight later, to wherever it is you're headed. 
Besides, nobody's going to believe this alien story of yours..."

(theoretical response space)

... did I get everything?

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Wed, 20 Jan 1999 18:32:55 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

Jinx nodded at Hawk, "Right, I don't mind helping out a bit if it ends
up clearing up my name a bit faster than the D.A.A. appears to be doing.
Maybe they should take some professionalism classes from you guys or
something."

She follows Clutch to find this Flash fellow, peering curiously at the
new technology.

"Oops, hey, before he starts working on that stuff, I better seriously
decrease the bad luck in the area! If I didn't we'd probably end up with
another big boom and a few dead Joes!" she said, slapping herself in the
forehead.

As the got into the carrier, she pulled in her field, hoping that she
absorbed any inherent nastiness that was waiting to pop out of the
bracers.

[Oh, and Danelle says, "Arrrrrgh! I killlll him!"]

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Wed, 20 Jan 1999 20:41:40 -0600
From:    Andy Hicks <ahix@mail.utexas.edu>

>"And then, this exploding gun came at us and blew this area to
>pieces..."  Hazzard backs up with that, and whispers to you "I didn't
>hear that, and you didn't either.  Keep an eye out for random bits of
>concussion rifle, 'cause I'm bettin' they got Hardcore prints on 'em..."

"There ain't no prints on there, that's for sure.  I had my gloves on.  But
I might've left somethin' else on it," Hardcore says warily, remembering
the residue from his gloves.  "Anyways, I ain't that easy to trace.  By the
time they have any idea what happened, I'll be long gone."  

Hardcore casually tucks his gloves into his pockets.

"Wasn't the best idea I came up with for disposing of that thing, though,
was it?  A goddamn shame.  How was I supposed to know that it was gonna come
out at an airport?"

"I gotta get outta here," Hardcore continues to Hazzard, before turning to
Hawk and asking, "Got the answers yer lookin' for yet, Chief?  The one over
here's some sorta loon.  Goin' on about "vortexes" or some nonsense like
that.  What did the asian guy have to say?"

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Thu, 21 Jan 1999 01:56:30 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

And finally, Ronin said:

> Ronin then turns back to the Colonel.

> "If you are done with your questions, sir, I will depart.  I have a
> plane to catch."

> Ronin makes as if to leave.

"Actually, son, I need you to stay here for a bit, and fill out an
official report, since you were here for the whole thing.  I can make
sure you get another flight later, to wherever it is you're headed.
Besides, nobody's going to believe this alien story of yours..."

Ronin nods grimly.  "I will comply with your wishes.  But I ask that we
attend to these matters quickly.  I must continue on my quest without
delay.  As to the my statements....while unbelievable, they are true
nonetheless.  I will wait here for this report."

Ronin stays put.  He will stay put, in this very spot, until he is given
the report to fill out.

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Thu, 21 Jan 1999 21:48:03 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Andy Hicks wrote:

> "There ain't no prints on there, that's for sure.  I had my gloves on.
> But I might've left somethin' else on it," Hardcore says warily,
> remembering the residue from his gloves.  "Anyways, I ain't that easy
> to trace.  By the time they have any idea what happened, I'll be long
> gone."

> Hardcore casually tucks his gloves into his pockets.

He nods.  "Ah, good thing, man.  I forgot about those gloves of yours.
That'll definitely save your ass.  Besides, I'm sure any adhesive they
find won't make any sense... nobody knows those gloves are sticky, 'cept
for me, of course.  And I ain't telling..."

> "Wasn't the best idea I came up with for disposing of that thing,
> though, was it?  A goddam shame.  How was I supposed to know that it
> was gonna come out at an airport?"

Hazzard just looks at you with a consoling eye.  "Hey, man, don't worry
about it.  It's not like you knew this jackass was trying to invade the
earth or anything... you never really expect that sort of thing.  That
is, if he's not seven cans short of a six pack, know what I mean?"

> "I gotta get outta here," Hardcore continues to Hazzard, before
> turning to Hawk and asking, "Got the answers yer lookin' for yet,
> Chief?  The one over here's some sorta loon.  Goin' on about
> "vortexes" or some nonsense like that.  What did the asian guy have to
> say?"

Speaking of Peter Chambers, he was saying:

>> "Actually, son, I need you to stay here for a bit, and fill out an
>> official report, since you were here for the whole thing.  I can make
>> sure you get another flight later, to wherever it is you're headed.
>> Besides, nobody's going to believe this alien story of yours..."

> Ronin nods grimly.  "I will comply with your wishes.  But I ask that
> we attend to these matters quickly.  I must continue on my quest
> without delay.  As to the my statements....while unbelievable, they
> are true nonetheless.  I will wait here for this report."

> Ronin stays put.  He will stay put, in this very spot, until he is
> given the report to fill out.

Colonel Hawk just looks at you sort of oddly, and then says "Okay.  Hey,
Clutch, while you're in there, have Flash bring out the video camera so
we can get a statement."  He then looks back to you.  "Of course, we'll
actually need to have you testify when these jokers go to trial..."

"One other thing, pal.  I can definitely arrange for you to get another
flight later, but it might take some time.  This whole airport is going
to be closed down for the next day or so, until it's worked over with a
fine toothed comb."

"For your information, we're headed back to the east coast, so we can
deal with Jinx here and her friend Roy Shijitzu.  If you need a ride, we
can give you one, since you're being so helpful, here.  Usually, people
just say 'didn't see anything'.  Bugs us all to heck, that..."

"That is, of course, if you were headed that way..."

Meanwhile, Bil Lockwood was running his mouth off about:

> Jinx nodded at Hawk, "Right, I don't mind helping out a bit if it ends
> up clearing up my name a bit faster than the D.A.A. appears to be
> doing.  Maybe they should take some professionalism classes from you
> guys or something."

> She follows Clutch to find this Flash fellow, peering curiously at the
> new technology.

> "Oops, hey, before he starts working on that stuff, I better seriously
> decrease the bad luck in the area! If I didn't we'd probably end up
> with another big boom and a few dead Joes!" she said, slapping herself
> in the forehead.

> As the got into the carrier, she pulled in her field, hoping that she
> absorbed any inherent nastiness that was waiting to pop out of the
> bracers.

It seems to have done the trick.  Inside the bus, Clutch introduces you
to Flash, the Joe's resident electronics whiz.  "Hey, nice mag-cannons
there, Jinx!"  You can't help but notice that he spots your tech before
he notices you.  Stupid electronics geeks.

For your information, the man is wearing typical army greens like the
others you've met so far, but he's got these thick red reflector pads
over his chest, parts of his arms, and his thighs, and he's wearing
brown boots and gloves.

Of course, he's even more impressed with the toys Clutch gave him.
"Now, you can't play with these until you film some sort of eyewitness
testimony for these jokers' arraignment."  This disappoints Flash, who
nonetheless picks up one bracer and looks at it.

He puts it on, and feels out the tactile controls.  Suddenly, a lance of
light projects from the bracer, and the man can wield it like a sort of
elongated arm blade.  He waves it around for a minute, puts a gas mask
on, and starts breathing in a familiar heavy pattern.

"Join the dark side, Clutch!", he says.  Somebody has way too much fun
with their job, you think.  But then, it's not every day they get to
play with focused energy weapons like this.  Kids'll be kids, they say,
and it seems to apply here... a lot.

Flash eventually shuts the bracer down, takes it and the gas mask off,
and heads outside with a video camera.  "Don't mind him, Jinx, he was
just having a little fun.  After all, he *only* get to play with lasers
all day, so he loves it when we bring stuff in for him to look at."

You look down on that surveillance bench, and you see a tiny shred of
that Polanski woman's fake skin.  Flash has apparently been breaking
that down, too.  You can see the microcircuitry lining the inside, and
his notes on a pad next to it.

Several references to 'microscopic cloaking circuitry' and 'disguise
fields' to make the cyborg's robotic arms mimic perfectly normal flesh
and bone.  Of course, he hadn't got to finish up his work on that scrap,
so who knows what else it can do?

> [Oh, and Danelle says, "Arrrrrgh! I killlll him!"]

Tell Danelle to Come Get Some!!

(anyone...?)

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Thu, 21 Jan 1999 21:55:23 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

Jinx just looks around at the tech stuff, blinking at the light blade
and trying to erase the flash bulbs from her eyes before taking a look
at the notes.

"Ack! That could be dangerous! I hope Roy isn't working on anything like
that to add to his robots! That would really suck!" she so eloquently
stated.

~That reminds me...What about that crazy cyborg chick? I hope she's
still all tied up...~ she wondered to herself as she headed back to the
containment area to check on the prisoner.

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Fri, 22 Jan 1999 08:50:42 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

> Ronin stays put.  He will stay put, in this very spot, until he is
> given the report to fill out.

>Colonel Hawk just looks at you sort of oddly, and then says "Okay.
>Hey, Clutch, while you're in there, have Flash bring out the video
>camera so we can get a statement."  He then looks back to you.  "Of
>course, we'll actually need to have you testify when these jokers go
>to trial..."

"Testify in a trial? Will that be necessary?  Would it not be
easier for you to execute them?  But again...it is as you see fit."

>"One other thing, pal.  I can definitely arrange for you to get
>another flight later, but it might take some time.  This whole >airport
is going to be closed down for the next day or so, until
>it's worked over with a fine toothed comb."

"Fine toothed comb?!?" Ronin mutters to himself.

>"For your information, we're headed back to the east coast, so we
>can deal with Jinx here and her friend Roy Shijitzu.  If you need
>a ride, we can give you one, since you're being so helpful, here.
>Usually, people just say 'didn't see anything'.  Bugs us all to
>heck, that..."
>
>"That is, of course, if you were headed that way..."

Ronin nods.  "I am, indeed.  May I ask, Who is this Shijitzu? I
have heard his name mentioned once before.  Why is it supposed
that I have some connection to this man?"

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Sat, 23 Jan 1999 13:37:41 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

(note:  I know Andy is busy on his weekends, so I didn't wait for him to
reply... if He shows up, I'll just go from there.  Didn't want everybody
to wait 'till monday... heh heh)

Peter Chamers wrote:

>>> Ronin stays put.  He will stay put, in this very spot, until he is
>>> given the report to fill out.

>>Colonel Hawk just looks at you sort of oddly, and then says "Okay.
>>Hey, Clutch, while you're in there, have Flash bring out the video
>>camera so we can get a statement."  He then looks back to you.  "Of
>>course, we'll actually need to have you testify when these jokers go
>>to trial..."

> "Testify in a trial? Will that be necessary?  Would it not be
> easier for you to execute them?  But again...it is as you see fit."

"Well, pal, we do things differently here in the States.  Besides, even
if it would be easier, we can't kill them unless, say, they were trying
to kill us, and our lives depended on it.  As far as a trial, don't
sweat it too much; I'm sure these jokers'll escape before that..."

You notice he sounds somewhat bitter about that.

>> "One other thing, pal.  I can definitely arrange for you to get
>> another flight later, but it might take some time.  This whole
>> airport is going to be closed down for the next day or so, until
>> it's worked over with a fine toothed comb."

> "Fine toothed comb?!?" Ronin mutters to himself.

>> "For your information, we're headed back to the east coast, so we
>> can deal with Jinx here and her friend Roy Shijitzu.  If you need
>> a ride, we can give you one, since you're being so helpful, here.
>> Usually, people just say 'didn't see anything'.  Bugs us all to
>> heck, that..."

>> "That is, of course, if you were headed that way..."

> Ronin nods.  "I am, indeed.  May I ask, Who is this Shijitzu? I
> have heard his name mentioned once before.  Why is it supposed
> that I have some connection to this man?"

"Beats me," Hawk says.  "That wasn't my idea, it was that Jinx's.  As
far as who he is, he's some rich corporate-type that framed her for some
business or another.  Sure, she was there, and she might be guilty of
some things, but he faked the evidence.  And that's not very nice."

"'Specially since we spent four days tracking this girl down, instead of
working on other stuff more within our specialty."  Suddenly, a heavily
padded man (not overweight, just with all these red pads on him) comes
out of the van with a video camera.

"Okay, son, now if you'd just repeat what you told me about these jerks
to the camera, you'll mostly be done with us, unless those punks don't
actually get away..."  The other man introduces himself as Flash, and he
gets the camera going on a tripod thingie.

I'm assuming you tell the guys everything, but if there's somethin' you
want to leave out, go ahead and say what it is now...

Meanwhile, Bil Lockwood wrote:

> Jinx just looks around at the tech stuff, blinking at the light blade
> and trying to erase the flash bulbs from her eyes before taking a look
> at the notes.

It's a pretty decent analysis of the false skin weave, actually, given
that the man's only had twenty minutes to work on it.  He's broken down
what it does, and even how, though you're not sure if he could duplicate
it just yet.  But still...

> "Ack! That could be dangerous! I hope Roy isn't working on anything
> like that to add to his robots! That would really suck!" she so
> eloquently stated.

"Yeah," says Clutch, "'specially since we got us a follow-up mission his
way, to be sure.  After what you tole me, I just know Hawk's gonna want
to check things out up there for himself, now.  And sure enough, I bet
that I'm gonna get stuck drivin'..."

"Hey, there anything else you didn't tell Hawk?  Could save our lives up
there..."

> ~That reminds me...What about that crazy cyborg chick? I hope she's
> still all tied up...~ she wondered to herself as she headed back to
> the containment area to check on the prisoner.

Back towards the really crowded motor pool, you see the small cage, and
can see that it can hold about three folks, with decent room to spare so
they can't get their hands on anything dangerous to them (or anybody
else).  She's nice and asleep (someone injected her with stuff).

Sure, she's stirring about, but she looks nice and asleep.  Looking at
the forest of bullet holes in her outfit, you occasionally see one fall
out of the fabric.  Bullet, that is.  Which makes you wonder exactly how
much that spray of bullets hurt her...

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Mon, 25 Jan 1999 13:18:11 -0600
From:    Andy Hicks <ahix@mail.utexas.edu>

Hardcore, becoming more and more intolerant of the present situation, heads
back to the Joes' rolling headquarters, peeling off his loaned military
gear along the way.

"Gotta get outta this monkey suit... and outta here.  Ain't got time for
this shit," he says to no one in particular, before seeking out the nearest
Joe.

"When're you boys gonna be done out there?  I got a life to lead, ya know."

???

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Sat, 23 Jan 1999 13:59:59 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

Natasha frowned as she looked on at her prisoner.

"Damn, she took way damn too much punishment to be in that good of
shape!" she cursed quietly to herself.

"Oh, damn! Yeah, if you guys are going to help me take on Roy, you've
gotta know he's a damn psi! He can get in your head and make you do
things and make illusions of himself and weird shit like that!" she
explained to Clutch as she went back outside to examine the wreckage
more closely.

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Mon, 25 Jan 1999 18:51:21 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Bil Lockwood wrote:

> Natasha frowned as she looked on at her prisoner.

> "Damn, she took way damn too much punishment to be in that good of
> shape!" she cursed quietly to herself.

> "Oh, damn! Yeah, if you guys are going to help me take on Roy, you've
> gotta know he's a damn psi! He can get in your head and make you do
> things and make illusions of himself and weird shit like that!" she
> explained to Clutch as she went back outside to examine the wreckage
> more closely.

Also, Andy Hicks wrote:

> Hardcore, becoming more and more intolerant of the present situation,
> heads back to the Joes' rolling headquarters, peeling off his loaned
> military gear along the way.

> "Gotta get outta this monkey suit... and outta here.  Ain't got time
> for this shit," he says to no one in particular, before seeking out
> the nearest Joe.

> "When're you boys gonna be done out there?  I got a life to lead, ya
> know."

While Ronin repeated his eye-witness account of the mayhem that ensued
here in the Eppley airport scant minutes ago to Hawk, Flash, and a video
camera, Hardcore made his way back to the bus, getting rid of those Army
greens he'd been given a few moments ago.

Back at the bus, Hardcore, you manage to find two other Joes, each of
which you haven't yet met.  One is carrying what appears to be a severed
robotic arm inside, and the other is prodding the two prisoners towards
the door, at gunpoint.

"Well, we're actually done here, pal," says one.  "Name's Grunt, by the
by, and this is Breaker.  Say 'hi' to the man, already."  The other guy,
the one covering the prisoners, says "Hi."  They lead those two morons
into the bus, and towards that tiny little containment area.

Before he ducks inside, though, Grunt says to you "The thing is, we
don't really need you for anything, since you're not responsible for any
of this ruckus, so if you wanna go, just go ask the Colonel over
there... though I'd wait until he's done with his 'interview'."

Meanwhile, in the bus, Jinx, you see two Joes bringing in those high
tech terrors that caused the mess here.  The man covering Lisa, that
Rock 'n Roll fellow, prods her with the end of a stick, and when she
doesn't move, opens the cage to let the others in.

"You can't hold me forever," Shade says.  "As soon as you uncuff my
hands, I'll rip this primitive vehicle apart!  And don't toy with those
weapons of my colleague, here, for they are advanced beyond your mere
primate understandings!"

The blond, surfer-like Rock 'n Roll laughs.  "Good thing we ain't taking
them cuffs off until we get you somewhere secure, then, isn't it?"  As
this all takes place, you see Clutch taking down notes in a flurry.
"Hm... psi, huh?  Freaky weird mental powers, eh?"

"I'd call you crazy, but then, I've seen some odd stuff today.  You'll
wanna tell the boss about that on the way, ma'am..."  You get the
impression, Jinx, that these Joes want to take you along for their
imminent ride.

But then, you know that this Hawk fellow has something in store for Roy,
so he might just need you for it.  Furthermore, this Ronin fellow may be
riding along, as well, since they need him as a witness.  So, what're
you gonna do about all that, eh, Jinx?

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Mon, 25 Jan 1999 21:56:45 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

Natasha just settled down on one of the couches after pulling off the
army fatigues.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere until I hear the Col.'s plans for Roy!" she
announced as she kicked back and grabbed the rest of her drink.

"Oh, and Clutch, while I'm a bit off, I'm not looney. There's a lot of
weird freaky crap out there that will just blow your mind. Take me for
instance. If I'm not careful and occasionally pull in my probability
field bad things'll happen. For example, I'll sit here for an hour or
three and the damn carrier will spring a radiator leak or blow a tire."
she blithey went on, sipping at her grog.

Subject: [v13] Interlude: Things Better Left Untouched
Date:    Mon, 25 Jan 1999 23:11:05 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

According to some theories in astrophysics, the universe is curved.  Not
because of bizarre Einstein-based theories on the nature of space-time,
of course, but simply because it would seem that clusters of galaxies
have aligned in a sort of baloon formation.

This balloon, then, surrounds an immensely vast area that is primarily
empty, as most of the matter that formerly occupied it was blown clear
in the devastating explosion that created the universe itself:  the big
bang.  Few stars and fewer galaxies, compared to a universal average.

If one can really average the amount of stars or galaxies that, in an
infinite space, would be present in a given stellar area.

Though they believe that this core area of the universe, this cosmic
creche, is empty, the astrophysicists that buy into this theory would
indeed be surprised to find that this zone is occupied.  In fact,
there's a nice wood cottage at the center of the universe.

Of course, it's quite frozen, as are the small bits of lake and
long-dead trees surrounding it.  And inactive, as well; hardly anything
has really happened to this area, on a molecular scale, since this
matter found its way here several years back.

This state of being also applies to the cabin's sole occupant at the
time, a man who was quite surprised to wake up here one bad morning.

Luckily for him, this man has several potent abilities, abilities that
allowed him to survive being evicted from his own world and deposited
here, as far away from anything else in the universe as one can get by
obeying the laws of physics.

For instance, he has been trained by several aged monks in the means of
controlling his body with his mind.  He is a metapsi, a master of any
psionic ability that allows him to manipulate, alter, or adapt his body;
his powers put him to sleep until he could rectify this situation.

This man is also lucky in that he didn't stop his psionic studies with
metapsi abilities; he's also quite a competent psikinetic, as well.

This particular discipline of power allows a body to control matter and
energy to an astounding degree.  So subconsciously, as he lay around in
a cold-induced sleep, his body collected the energies that collided with
it from every single star in the cosmos.

This energy was rather dampened by the time it eventually got to him,
but still, he is in the center of the universe, and that makes for a lot
of stars inadverdently beaming power to him.  After years of sleep, the
man awoke with a start.

It took him awhile for his mind to reboot, so to speak, and figure out
just what had happened to him again.

He remembered being a part of some sort of order, some agency built by
students of the mental arts like himself.  This order, this Mindwatch
group, worked to protect the world from folks that used powers of his
variety against defenseless, normal, putridly dull humans.

He remembers working under their nose, slowly carving a global empire
for himself, but they found him out.  The fools tried talking sense into
him, so they said, and when that failed, beating it into him.  However,
he was too powerful by then, and couldn't be stopped by his colleagues.

The joke was on him, though, when one of the ancient masters came to his
home and merely wished him away.  To here.

That was, what was it, 1986, if he remembered correctly.  He had no idea
how much time had passed since he was unceremoniously thrown away just
for securing a little power for himself, a nice nest egg against any
unknown tragedies the future may hold.

He would show them, though.  He would show everybody on earth.  Not that
he currently knew where it was.  He could theoretically be looking at it
right now, and any of 359 times 359 directions to seek it in would be
the wrong one.  But he had to do something.

And he would eventually find his way home, of that he had no doubt.
After all, he no longer had to worry about aging anymore.

So, having nothing better to do than spend an eternity smack in the
middle of nowhere, the man set out in a totally random direction, one
chosen purely by chance, since he had no intuitive means of going the
right way.  But he was going, flying back to civilization.

Or so he hoped...

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Mon, 25 Jan 1999 23:53:13 -0600
From:    Andy Hicks <ahix@mail.utexas.edu>

>Natasha just settled down on one of the couches after pulling off the
>army fatigues.

>"Hey, I'm not going anywhere until I hear the Col.'s plans for Roy!" she
>announced as she kicked back and grabbed the rest of her drink.

>"Oh, and Clutch, while I'm a bit off, I'm not looney. There's a lot of
>weird freaky crap out there that will just blow your mind. Take me for
>instance. If I'm not careful and occasionally pull in my probability
>field bad things'll happen. For example, I'll sit here for an hour or
>three and the damn carrier will spring a radiator leak or blow a tire."
>she blithey went on, sipping at her grog.

Hearing this, Hardcore decides that he's heard enough.

"Lady, I don't know if you're a loon, a freak, or what, but even if all
this talk about bein' a curse or whatever is true, I still wouldn't be able
to tell whether you keep on goin' on about it 'cause you're feelin' sorry
for yerself, or you're braggin' about it-- you talk about it so damn much.
The fact of the matter is, right now I'm a helluva lot more likely to
believe that crap than I was when I woke up this morning, but that don't
mean I wanna hear about it every 3 goddam minutes.  So whether yer lookin'
for pity, or yer proud of the fact you screw over everybody who comes into
contact with ya, I don't wanna hear it.

"Everybody's got their own sob story to tell, but they don't unload it on
every damn stranger they meet.  So do me a favor and shut yer hole until I
can finally get outta here."

(I guess that will fulfill Hardcore's rudeness quirk obligations for a while!)

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Reaper)
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 12:41:16 -0800 (PST)
From:    Michael Joiner <ml_joiner@yahoo.com>

> But then, before you can move, you see it.  Nobody else seems to have
> noticed, but a... being... wrapped up in a black cloak and wielding a
> scythe has materialized in the middle of Main street.  All little towns
> seem to have a Main street.  It usually intersects 1st Street.

> That's where Death has come into being on the earthly plane.  And now
> you see why.  Down the road, about half a mile away, your omniscience
> homes in on what Death's looking at, if that's what it's really doing.
> There's a full tanker truck headed this way.

> But it isn't full of gasoline.  It's got a highly deadly gas inside, and
> it's about to drive smack into the Elk Snout war zone...  You can just
> imagine what a tanker full of deadly gas, in this area rife with mayhem,
> is going to mean for the imminent future.

> But what're you going to do about it?

Reaper first recoils from the intesity of power "Death" eminates,
stumbling slightly.  He then looks up in a furious glare and screams
"YOU!!", roughly shoving the Guardsman out of the way.
He's fought this fight before, and begins the process...
energy seems to ripple accross his body, and in its wake he seems to
become almost etheral in form.  Sure enough, as he approaches any
"solid" objects - he seems to merely sprint right through them, making
an absolute "bee-line" for the oncoming truck, and the apparration
that only he seems to see.

The truck...he seems to think for a moment, then reaches out his
hands, that same energy coalescing there.  He unleashes it at the
oncoming vehicle attempting to place its energy in "phase" beginning
at the front of the truck and allowing its affect to spread all the
way down its length (1 man-size mass at a time) - thereby giving it
the impression of entering a "phase-state" from one "point" on - as it
approaches.

Initiative: 7+3(Intuition) - 10
Rolls:  63, 83, 62, 62, 05.

OOC:

This is my first post to the list - let me know if this is how its
supposed to work, etc.  I just did 5 rolls to account for both my
attacks (that I declare) - as well as any odd rolls I may need to do
for whatever reason...is that alright?  If you need more - let me
know...

Thanks!

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Reaper)
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 15:20:55 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Michael Joiner wrote:

> Reaper first recoils from the intesity of power "Death" eminates,
> stumbling slightly.  He then looks up in a furious glare and screams
> "YOU!!", roughly shoving the Guardsman out of the way.  He's fought
> this fight before, and begins the process...

Several shouts of "Hey!" and the like accompany your rush to the truck,
though nobody tries to bar your way.  After all, you're running *away*
from the town, not towards it, and that's where all this trouble started
in the first place.

> Energy seems to ripple accross his body, and in its wake he seems to
> become almost etheral in form.  Sure enough, as he approaches any
> "solid" objects - he seems to merely sprint right through them, making
> an absolute "bee-line" for the oncoming truck, and the apparration
> that only he seems to see.

> The truck...he seems to think for a moment, then reaches out his
> hands, that same energy coalescing there.  He unleashes it at the
> oncoming vehicle attempting to place its energy in "phase" beginning
> at the front of the truck and allowing its affect to spread all the
> way down its length (1 man-size mass at a time) - thereby giving it
> the impression of entering a "phase-state" from one "point" on - as it
> approaches.

> Initiative: 7+3(Intuition) - 10
> Rolls:  63, 83, 62, 62, 05.

Okay.  You actually manage to render the truck immaterial for the time
being; at least, in relation to the rest of the surrounding area.  You
now notice why Death itself manifested here; the truck has no brakes,
for it is not slowing down upon approaching the National Guard cordon.

It zips right through their barricade, and down the highway into the
town proper.  You know you can keep the thing phased until natural
inertia stops it, but you'll have to stay in the thing's general
vicinity to do so.

(assuming you're following...)

Running into town after the veritable ghost truck (which your awareness
tells you is moving at approximately 31.2754 miles per hour, up a .3%
grade) draws out all sorts of militant types, many of whom seem to be
wearing pajamas and other assorted night wear still.

They fire upon the thing with bows, pistols, shotguns, and several
powerful and likely illegal automatic rifles; the projectiles go right
through the truck.  And you; seeing the spectre-like appearance you
present, several locals fire upon you on general principle.

This *is* Wyoming, after all.

You're starting to run out of breath, as keeping that truck in sight is
taking all of your personal energies (aside from those you're spending
to render you and the massive truck immaterial).  It is gradually
slowing down, though, so doing so is getting a bit easier.

The thing finally exits town on the west side, coming to a creeping halt
as you sink to the ground, totally exhausted.  Of course, while you're
totally tired, you did manage to save a town worth of people, even if
they are hell-bent on killing each other.

Suddenly, a presence manifests at your side.  AMUSING, it says.  YOU
WENT TO ALL THAT TROUBLE TO SAVE THESE FOOLS, WHEN THEY'LL JUST KILL
EACH OTHER ANYWAY.  VERY WELL, ENJOY THIS 'VICTORY', THOUGH I'M SURE IT
WILL BE HOLLOW VERY SOON.  BE SEEING YOU... SOONER THAN YOU THINK.

The presence dissipates before you can react or respond, but you do feel
better about this whole debacle.  After all, if these folks die, it
won't be because of some unfeeling, creeping entity's actions.  Or will
it?  Just who is behind this carnage anyway?

> OOC:

> This is my first post to the list - let me know if this is how its
> supposed to work, etc.  I just did 5 rolls to account for both my
> attacks (that I declare) - as well as any odd rolls I may need to do
> for whatever reason...is that alright?  If you need more - let me
> know...

Hey, s'aright.  Basically, how folks have been doing it is to just say
what rolls are for what, and if necessary, to add one or two for the
unexpected that might occur.  Since it does... :)

I only ended up needing one, for nobody picked a fight with you ... yet.
As far as Karma, usually you can just tell me how much you'll need to
spend, or ask how much you'll need to spend to get something to work.

And don't forget that you can only make extra attacks by making the
extra attack roll at the beginnning of your turn; of course, with yer
fighting (off) score, that'd have to be a Red FEAT, at a -2 CS...

But you could still theoretically try... =)

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 19:26:38 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

[Uh, oh. Consider Jinx appropriately taunted. *chuckles* Let's roll
Initiative, appropriate attacks and dodges. I get: 10+2 for a 12
Initiative, 52 for my first shot w/ a 02 for damage and 35 to hit with
28 damage and a 70 for my first dodge. Extra rolls are: 47, 39, 84.]

Natasha stared ice daggers into Hardcore's soul, then quickly pulled her
guns and fired each one once, taking a separate shot at each of his
thighs. She threw herself from the couch, pulling in her probability
field and rolling in the close quarters, trying to use the rest of the
furniture as obstacles for her new best friend.

"No, Mr. Fancy Pants, I humbley request that you shut that pie hole of
yours before I make it go all the way through your head. I'd hate to get
any more blood on these nice army boys' walls!" she taunted.

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 15:23:41 -0700
From:    "Lady Arakne" <araknesweb@darkspiral.com>

In fact, as you know Silhouette, the buzz is in your head, and is the
voices of hundreds and hundreds of supposedly inanimate objects who're
apparently... praying.  Inanimate objects.  Making unknown prayers to
some unknown animating force or deity.  Kinda creepy...

So now that the four of you are here, what do you do now?!

Sil looks at the others, and smiles, <<Doesn't surprise me... If
there can be fire, air, earth, water elementals, why can't there be
techno-elementals, steel, concrete, electricity, glass, smog.. any
number of other things... Because to some, technology is just
another form of magick....>>

She enjoyed the look of shock on Masque's face, knowing well he'd
protest that such was impossible, but Sil knew differently. Some of
her people were capable of creating machines that were powered
by magick or channelled it to specific effects...

tbc...

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 20:51:03 -0600
From:    Andy Hicks ahix@mail.utexas.edu

>[Uh, oh. Consider Jinx appropriately taunted. *chuckles* Let's roll
>Initiative, appropriate attacks and dodges. I get: 10+2 for a 12
>Initiative, 52 for my first shot w/ a 02 for damage and 35 to hit with
>28 damage and a 70 for my first dodge. Extra rolls are: 47, 39, 84.]

>Natasha stared ice daggers into Hardcore's soul, then quickly pulled her
>guns and fired each one once, taking a separate shot at each of his
>thighs. She threw herself from the couch, pulling in her probability
>field and rolling in the close quarters, trying to use the rest of the
>furniture as obstacles for her new best friend.

>"No, Mr. Fancy Pants, I humbley request that you shut that pie hole of
>yours before I make it go all the way through your head. I'd hate to get
>any more blood on these nice army boys' walls!" she taunted.

"GOD DAMN IT!  What the hell is wrong with you, girl!?!?" Hardcore yells as
he tries to dodge the stream of bullets.  "Yer gonna kill everybody in
here!  Ya better knock it off real quick, or I'm gonna hafta put a stop to
it myself!  And you ain't gonna like that one bit!  Now put those friggin'
hand cannons back where they belong!"

(Can you say all that in one round?  Ahhh, what the hell.  Hardcore rolls a
49 for the first dodge, and a 60 for the second.  Not interested in
attacking... yet.  Firebomb?  Ronin?)

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 21:13:02 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

> Bil Lockwood wrote:

> [Uh, oh. Consider Jinx appropriately taunted. *chuckles* Let's roll
> Initiative, appropriate attacks and dodges. I get: 10+2 for a 12
> Initiative, 52 for my first shot w/ a 02 for damage and 35 to hit with
> 28 damage and a 70 for my first dodge. Extra rolls are: 47, 39, 84.]

> Natasha stared ice daggers into Hardcore's soul, then quickly pulled
> her guns and fired each one once, taking a separate shot at each of
> his thighs. She threw herself from the couch, pulling in her
> probability field and rolling in the close quarters, trying to use the
> rest of the furniture as obstacles for her new best friend.

> "No, Mr. Fancy Pants, I humbley request that you shut that pie hole of
> yours before I make it go all the way through your head. I'd hate to
> get any more blood on these nice army boys' walls!" she taunted.

And in response, Andy Hicks wrote:

> "GOD DAMN IT!  What the hell is wrong with you, girl!?!?" Hardcore
> yells as he tries to dodge the stream of bullets.  "Yer gonna kill
> everybody in here!  Ya better knock it off real quick, or I'm gonna
> hafta put a stop to it myself!  And you ain't gonna like that one bit!
> Now put those friggin' hand cannons back where they belong!"

> (Can you say all that in one round?  Ahhh, what the hell.  Hardcore
> rolls a 49 for the first dodge, and a 60 for the second.  Not
> interested in attacking... yet.  Firebomb?  Ronin?)

... great.

Anyway, Hardcore, the madwoman starts firing at you, apparently her
response to sarcasm, and despite the fact that you move like crazy, she
manages to tag you with one of the two shots, the first one, in your
leg.  For your information, you took Good (10) Shooting damage.

And you're bleeding a lot.

This, of course, prompts Rock 'n Roll, who's been here covering the
prisoners, to train his M-60 on you, Jinx.  "Hey, ya crazy broad, here
we are, trying to help you out, and you go and shoot Clutch!"  Looking
down, you see that the shot that missed Hardcore actually pegged Clutch.

You *were*, after all, in a seven by seven room when you opened up, now.

"Now, I suggest you do as the man says, and put them hand cannons away,
preferably on the floor, before I have to shoot you.  I don't want to,
but you just caused all kinds of damage to the taxpayers' nice bus,
here, and I just can't let you get away with that."

"Or shooting Clutch."  "Thanks," the wounded man says with that,
grabbing his leg and trying to staunch the bleeding.

Meanwhile, outside, Hawk and Flash had just finished up their little
'interview' with Ronin, when they heard the two shots going off inside
the bus.  "What the hell?", he says, running towards the bus.  Flash
joins him, leaving the camera behind.

Ronin, what do YOU do?!

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 21:26:20 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

[*laughs* Gotta love quirks! Man, sorry for the mess...]

Jinx takes a look at the mess she's caused and just tosses her guns to
the ground with a shrug, her field disipating in a grey swirl.

"Damnit, sorry about shooting you, Clutch. I don't react well to
assholes. I'm allergic to them. I tend to try to clean out any I meet
from the environment." she half-heartedly apologized as she raised her
hands over her head showing no signs of any further aggression.

Well, physical aggression that is. "Now look what you made me do, Stick
Boy. I even like Clutch. I don't like shooting people that treat me
nice. It's rare that I find them since I'm obviously such a psycho
whore. I'd like to inform you that you're now on my 'List' and that the
next time we get to 'play' it won't be your legs I'm aiming for. Let's
just say you won't be pokin' anyone with your 'stick' anymore." she spit
at Hardcore as she waited for Hawk to get the rundown from the other
Joes.

[Whoo! Can we say "Party Unity"? Mmmm Hmmm. I knew you could!]

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 21:59:00 -0600
From:    Andy Hicks <ahix@mail.utexas.edu>

>[*laughs* Gotta love quirks! Man, sorry for the mess...]

>Jinx takes a look at the mess she's caused and just tosses her guns to
>the ground with a shrug, her field disipating in a grey swirl.

>"Damnit, sorry about shooting you, Clutch. I don't react well to
>assholes. I'm allergic to them. I tend to try to clean out any I meet
>from the environment." she half-heartedly apologized as she raised her
>hands over her head showing no signs of any further aggression.

"Yeah, put it off on somebody else," Hardcore interjects.

>Well, physical aggression that is. "Now look what you made me do, Stick
>Boy. I even like Clutch. I don't like shooting people that treat me
>nice. It's rare that I find them since I'm obviously such a psycho
>whore. I'd like to inform you that you're now on my 'List' and that the
>next time we get to 'play' it won't be your legs I'm aiming for. Let's
>just say you won't be pokin' anyone with your 'stick' anymore." she spit
>at Hardcore as she waited for Hawk to get the rundown from the other
>Joes.

"And as for you shootin' me in the goddamn leg-- I doubt that was what ya
were aimin' for, ya crazy bitch!  Ya got lucky.  Don't fool yerself,"
Harcore shoots back. as he tries to find something to put on his newest wound.

"I'll tell ya one thing.  I shoulda taken ya down and picked up that bounty
when I had the chance..."

>[Whoo! Can we say "Party Unity"? Mmmm Hmmm. I knew you could!]

(Oh, Jinx and Hardcore...  Can't the two of you just see that you've got so
much in common?  Now be nice!)

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 22:20:10 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

[*grin* Can you feel the love tonight...]

Natasha just gritted her teeth and kept her mouth shut, waiting for the
dressing down she knew she was going to be getting from Hawk.

~Damnit, Tash, why can't you keep a hold of your temper? You had the
Joes ready to help you with the Roy situation and now you had to go and
screw up and shoot the prick. And Clutch. You're better than that, you
should have been able to avoid that. Maybe you're losing your edge...Or
getting too much of one.~ she mentally chastised herself as she tried to
calm herself down to the point of normal cognition.

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 23:38:25 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

> Meanwhile, outside, Hawk and Flash had just finished up their little
> 'interview' with Ronin, when they heard the two shots going off inside the 
> bus.  "What the hell?", he says, running towards the bus.  Flash joins him, 
> leaving the camera behind.

Ronin, being the warrior that he is, assumes that the "Joes" are under
attack from some unseen enemy (hey...logical to a hack-em-slash-em sort
of mindset).  He unsheathes Thunder Cutter and rushes in, blade
a-flashing.  He will attempt to disarm the first enemy combatant he
sees.

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 23:01:07 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Peter Chamers wrote:

> Ronin, being the warrior that he is, assumes that the "Joes" are under
> attack from some unseen enemy (hey...logical to a hack-em-slash-em
> sort of mindset).  He unsheathes Thunder Cutter and rushes in, blade
> a-flashing.  He will attempt to disarm the first enemy combatant he
> sees.

Ronin, you rush into the bus after the last two Joes, but you don't see
anybody currently armed that isn't a part of the team.  Whatever
happened in here, it must've ended before the three of you got inside;
there was only two shots fired.

Of course, you see that big blond fellow, the one called Rock 'n Roll,
is covering that Jinx woman with his M-60, and her guns are decorating
the ground.  You also noted that, with nobody watching, that Flathead
fellow was reaching for them.

When you look at him with that burning angry gaze, however, he shrinks
back into the corner of his tiny little cell; apparently, he's not so
tough without his toys.  Rather pathetic, actually.  Jinx is apparently
unarmed, though, since she and Hardcore got into something of a fight.

Or so it would seem; she's unarmed and he's got a hole in his leg.
Nice, clean exit wound to it, too.  With this, Hawk indeed looks the
area up and down, and looking at Jinx, he bellows "Just what in the Hell
is going on here?!"

(?)

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Tue, 26 Jan 1999 23:33:07 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

[84 on my Psyche FEAT to act respectfully.]

Jinx also stared icily at Flathead as he reached for the weapons,
tensing visibly.

"I shot the bleeding prick, sir. I also unintentionally shot one of your
own men, Clutch, in the process, although regrettably so. I apologize
for my childish behavior and would request that I might retire to a more
private setting as I believe continued contact with the man I
intentionally shot will lead to further conflict, Sir." she responded
curtly, standing at attention with her hands clasped behind her head.

"I would also humbly request that, if my weapons are not to be returned
to me, that they quickly be secured as they may pose an opportunity for
the prisoners to escape." she added quickly thereafter.

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Mr. Bailes)
Date:    Wed, 27 Jan 1999 00:43:54 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Firebomb wrote:

> Once your ride is ready, and your baggage is loaded, you rocket off to
> Davenport, Iowa.

> You don't know why, but you just don't like the sound of that...

Your plane lands thirty minutes late; apparently, there was some problem
with the airport itself, so it took some time before it was safe to land
the plane.  You definitely don't like the way this was going.
Apparently, several surveys weren't wrong.

Looking at Davenport, you see that this is, indeed, one of the worst
cities to live in - at least, in America.

Once you collect all of your stuff from the luggage area, you and Tammy
Bismark make your way to her house.  Once you get there, you soon find
out that she is, in fact, a police officer.  Unless, of course she
dresses up in a police uniform and poses for pics with cops...

It's a nice picture of her and several other cops, hanging there on the
wall.  She goes upstairs for a few minutes, saying "Be right back!".
When she comes back down, you see that she's got a few other folders,
likely more evidence about the crime spree in hand.

"These'll also come in handy."  Looking over them, you can see that
they're collected evidence concerning both the older, forties crime
spree, and this new one.  At least that explains how she got those
files... her being a cop, and all...

(any questions to get this rollin'?)

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Wed, 27 Jan 1999 08:31:06 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

Ronin, you rush into the bus after the last two Joes, but you don't see
anybody currently armed that isn't a part of the team.  Whatever
happened in here, it must've ended before the three of you got inside;
there was only two shots fired.

Of course, you see that big blond fellow, the one called Rock 'n Roll,
is covering that Jinx woman with his M-60, and her guns are decorating
the ground.  You also noted that, with nobody watching, that Flathead
fellow was reaching for them.

When you look at him with that burning angry gaze, however, he shrinks
back into the corner of his tiny little cell; apparently, he's not so
tough without his toys.  Rather pathetic, actually.  Jinx is apparently
unarmed, though, since she and Hardcore got into something of a fight.

Or so it would seem; she's unarmed and he's got a hole in his leg.
Nice, clean exit wound to it, too.  With this, Hawk indeed looks the
area up and down, and looking at Jinx, he bellows "Just what in the Hell
is going on here?!"

Ronin will puts Thunder Cutter back in its scabbard.  Leaving Colonel
Hawk to deal with his men, he attends to Flathead.  Moving towards him,
Ronin kicks the guns away from him and gives him another menacing
glare.  Hey...samurai warriors do that glare thing all the time.

Subject: [v13] Stone Cold Release
Date:    Wed, 27 Jan 1999 10:13:20 PST
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." cclayjr@hotmail.com

"Hey, stupid?"  as I get his attention.  I grab him real fast (roll 85).
I slam him into the ground repeatedly (as I am now stone with my
extra-strength)  (roll 51, 79, 93, 37).  Hoping this will release hism
hold on Tammy.

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Wed, 27 Jan 1999 15:03:01 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

> Toasters, televisions, boom boxes, washing machines, bicycles, lawn
> mowers, electric razors, metal detectors, oscilloscopes, laptop
> computers, soldering irons, flashlights, VCRs, oscillating fans, and the
> occasional megaphone are present, as if in prayer.

Masque's freezes in mid-chew. The glass of orange juice just falls out
of his hand. And He starts to shake.

> And at the altar, behind a vast oaken podium, is a man in those same
> monkish robes with a circuit board around his neck on a golden chain.
> He's talking about how, one day, the shackles of noncommunication will
> be broken, and the so-called inanimate objects will be free at last.

> "And yea, when we bring about the rapture, your so-called creators shall
> be able to hear your voices like we the faithful can.  Even now, we are
> working to make the so-called animates hear you.  In fact, more and more
> sensitive folks within blocks of the Church are starting to hear you."

> "Then, once they wake up and hear your cries for justice, all will be
> made equal, and they shall be forced to treat you as peers.  Now look
> inwards, my many friends, and let us say a prayer for our fallen
> brethren."

> Motioning to a pile of discarded consumer items, the priest starts
> mumbling something in a language you don't quite recognize, and there's
> a definite audible buzz in the room.  At least you think you're hearing
> it.

"Mmphhhh, mmphhhh"
Masque spews forth a fine mist of powdered donuts and trips over his
robes as he runs up to the 'priest'.

Standing up and brushing himself off. Attempting to regain some sort  of
composure. Any Magician knows that composure is the key to...okay, well,
it helps alot in situations.

"I mean..Ahem, ahem...but, but....you are wrong my good friend. Thes
things are what will bring the downfall of mankind. These are the sort
of thing that we do not...."

*Made me lose some perfectly good donuts, harumphh. Now i have to chew
another one all over again. Thats hard work, i could spend that energy
sitting down....*

"Sorry...what was I saying? Oh yeah..You say they will be free
someday....first of all these things cannot grasp the concept of Free.
It is a concept meant for sentient beings. I think that you are crazy my
good man."

With that Masque stomps off the podium and heads toward Barnett. Not
even giving a second look at the 'congregation'...bah!

*Free...sheesh..what is this man talking about...oh look over there,
Donuts!"*

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Reaper)
Date:    Wed, 27 Jan 1999 23:05:29 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Michael Joiner wrote:

> VERY WELL, ENJOY THIS 'VICTORY', THOUGH I'M SURE IT WILL BE HOLLOW
> VERY SOON.  BE SEEING YOU... SOONER THAN YOU THINK.

> "Wh- Wh- What?" Reaper manages to say, gasping for breath.  As he
> looks to his side though, he realizes nothing is there.  "Piss
> off...bastard."

> He slowly gets to his feet, only beginning to take in everything
> happening around him...troops running in his direction, the small
> issue of a phased truck with gas in it...He "un-phases" his body, and
> takes off his sweatshirt to try to cool off.

> <Provided someone in authority addresses him>

Oh, there's several folks coming your way.  They're the Guardsmen that
were watching this side of town to keep folks from getting in are trying
to see what's up, considering the truck thundered right through their
barricade...

(you were so tired you failed to notice running through, oddly enough.)

> Reaper raises his hands to try to fend off the onslaught of
> questions, accusations, etc...

> "Hey, hey, hey, I don't even KNOW you people, I was just trying to
> keep this thing from going up thats all!  My name is Jaycen, and I was
> just trying to help out before anyone got killed or something.  Is
> everyone alright?  Maybe you guys got someone who can handle hazardous
> gas or whatever the hell is up in that thing - if I let it go its
> probably gonna be pretty bad."

> He gestures at the phased truck.

When you and the Guardsmen look at the truck, you see a fellow inside,
waving to you all.  "Hey, get me out of this thing!"  Several of the
guards are motioning for a truck to pull up, what with your mention of
gas, and they seem to intend on towing it out of danger.

Though out of town, the truck is within range of the town, in the event
some of those wackos within decided to take shots at it.  It seems that
this little disaster is about to be resolved, so now what do you do,
hmmm.....?

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Wed, 27 Jan 1999 23:33:39 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Bil Lockwood wrote:

> [84 on my Psyche FEAT to act respectfully.]

> Jinx also stared icily at Flathead as he reached for the weapons,
> tensing visibly.

> "I shot the bleeding prick, sir. I also unintentionally shot one of
> your own men, Clutch, in the process, although regrettably so. I
> apologize for my childish behavior and would request that I might
> retire to a more private setting as I believe continued contact with
> the man I intentionally shot will lead to further conflict, Sir." she
> responded curtly, standing at attention with her hands clasped behind
> her head.

> "I would also humbly request that, if my weapons are not to be
> returned to me, that they quickly be secured as they may pose an
> opportunity for the prisoners to escape." she added quickly
> thereafter.

Peter Chamers wrote:

> Ronin will puts Thunder Cutter back in its scabbard.  Leaving Colonel
> Hawk to deal with his men, he attends to Flathead.  Moving towards
> him, Ronin kicks the guns away from him and gives him another
> menancing glare.  Hey...samurai warriors do that glare thing all the
> time.

> Ronin

Hawk looks over the situation, and directs Breaker and Grunt to perform
some first aid on Clutch and Hardcore.  "Looks like everything is in
hand, so we're leaving.  As far as your guns, Jinx, I think it's best we
just give you some time to cool out before we give 'em back."

With that, Flash picks 'em up and takes them over to the security kiosk,
where he's keeping tabs on everything else of an exceptionally advanced
nature on the bus.  "And Flash," Hawk says, "after you put them away,
grab the camera, because we're moving out!"

Within about thirty seconds, the Joe techie's got the camera onboard,
and has dodged nearby feds who're wondering just what happened inside
the bus.  "Just a misfire, gotta go, gotta go..."  Before anybody can do
anything else about it, the bus is moving.

Hawk then looks at you, Jinx.  "Since you're not in a mood to apologize
to Hardcore, I'd like it if you sat up front with Flash, while he drives
us out of here.  You don't have any problem with him, I hope...  Is that
an issue with you?"

(possible response space)

Rock 'n Roll keeps tabs on the prisoners, while Grunt and Breaker help
move both Clutch and Hardcore to those bunks towards the front of the
covert ops bus.  Hawk then comes up to you two wounded folks, and he
apologizes about the trouble.

"I'm really sorry about this mess, you two.  However, I have to let you
know that I'd consider it a personal favor if neither of you pressed any
charges against Jinx.  I happen to need her for part of an operation
I've got to pull in relation to a really bad apple."

(possible response space)

Hawk continues.  "At any rate, tough guy,", indicating you, Hardcore,
"you aren't going to be able to walk on that leg safely, from the looks
of things.  Not for a day or two, at the very least.  Is there anything
I can do to help out?"

"Like maybe a ride or an old-fashioned tow job?"  Seeing that you're in
one piece, and that Jinx isn't currently a threat any more, Hazzard
wanders off to check up on Tangerine, who's still out cold thanks to the
beating that cybernetic bounty hunter gave her.

(another possible response space)

Meanwhile, back in the prisoner area, Rock 'n Roll turns to you, Ronin,
with some questions.  "So, these two jokers are responsible for all this
mess, huh?  It's just kind of hard to believe their story.  I mean,
sure, you saw it and all, but hey, it just sounds crazy."

"After all, I ain't never seen aliens before, and these two idiots look
just like ordinary folks, except maybe for the bad hair.  And that guy
with the giant flat top doesn't seem so tough; look at how he's cowering
in the back of the cell, trying to crawl away from you!"

(possible response space again)

"Laugh all you want, monkeyboy!"  Apparently, Shade has found his guts
again.  "Mock us, if you will, but you'll pay for this!  You'll *all*
pay for this!!  When mighty Falitus returns for us, he'll see your heads
mounted on pikes outside his new palace!!!

(?)

Subject: Re: [v13] Stone Cold Release
Date:    Wed, 27 Jan 1999 23:39:44 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

> "Hey, stupid?"  as I get his attention.  I grab him real fast (roll
> 85).  I slam him into the ground repeatedly (as I am now stone with my
> extra-strength)  (roll 51, 79, 93, 37).  Hoping this will release hism
> hold on Tammy.

> Stone Cold

(you forgot your inish, but that's okay.  Just don't do it again...   =)

You grab the Seven Dimensional Man before he even knew what was up, and
you pummel him until Tammy returns to normal; in fact, you seem to have
pummelled him into unconsciousness, as when you stop, he ain't moving.
Oh sure, he's breathing still, but he's done dealin' for now.

That only leaves the two of you with one problem, however.  You're
apparently stranded sometime in the past, if this assassin wasn't lying
to you; in the Ice Age, to be precise.  You and Tammy are indeed alive,
but what do you do about getting home?

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Wed, 27 Jan 1999 23:52:54 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Lady Arakne wrote:

> Sil looks at the others, and smiles, <<Doesn't surprise me... If
> there can be fire, air, earth, water elementals, why can't there be
> techno-elementals, steel, concrete, electricity, glass, smog.. any
> number of other things... Because to some, technology is just
> another form of magick....>>

> She enjoyed the look of shock on Masque's face, knowing well he'd
> protest that such was impossible, but Sil knew differently. Some of
> her people were capable of creating machines that were powered
> by magick or channelled it to specific effects...

Also, Chris W. Acers wrote:

>> Toasters, televisions, boom boxes, washing machines, bicycles, lawn
>> mowers, electric razors, metal detectors, oscilloscopes, laptop
>> computers, soldering irons, flashlights, VCRs, oscillating fans, and
>> the occasional megaphone are present, as if in prayer.

> Masque's freezes in mid-chew. The glass of orange juice just falls out
> of his hand. And He starts to shake.

>> And at the altar, behind a vast oaken podium, is a man in those same
>> monkish robes with a circuit board around his neck on a golden chain.
>> He's talking about how, one day, the shackles of noncommunication
>> will be broken, and the so-called inanimate objects will be free at
>> last.

(snip quasi-religious rigamarole)

> "Mmphhhh, mmphhhh"

> Masque spews forth a fine mist of powdered donuts and trips over his
> robes as he runs up to the 'priest'.

> Standing up and brushing himself off. Attempting to regain some sort
> of composure. Any Magician knows that composure is the key to...okay,
> well, it helps alot in situations.

> "I mean..Ahem, ahem...but, but....you are wrong my good friend. Thes
> things are what will bring the downfall of mankind. These are the sort
> of thing that we do not...."

> *Made me lose some perfectly good donuts, harumphh. Now i have to chew
> another one all over again. Thats hard work, i could spend that energy
> sitting down....*

> "Sorry...what was I saying? Oh yeah..You say they will be free
> someday....first of all these things cannot grasp the concept of Free.
> It is a concept meant for sentient beings. I think that you are crazy
> my good man."

> With that Masque stomps off the podium and heads toward Barnett. Not
> even giving a second look at the 'congregation'...bah!

> *Free...sheesh..what is this man talking about...oh look over there,
> Donuts!"*

As Masque debases the priest's beliefs at the podium, anybody looking at
Senor Barnett can see the grin apparent on his face.  Oh, sure, it would
appear that he has some special mental power that allows him to at least
'hear' the impressions of inanimate objects, but he don't buy that idea.

Meahwhile, Och can't help but concur with Silhouette.  "Aye, Masque.
The man isn't totally insane, for some objects, while inanimate, are in
fact intelligent.  The 'faithful' in this church itself are proof of
that.  Though it would seem that these Animists are making them so..."

"Harrumph," says Senor Barnett, who has since joined Masque at the table
holding the free continental breakfasts.  Taking a big bite of a
powdered doughnut, he says "Thaff riat.  Theff thinss caah olee taak
coss theff iveeits mekk um."  *gulp*  "Creepy stuff, that."

(possible response space)

"Blasphemers!"  It would seem that the priest Masque displaced at the
podium has recovered his composure.  "How dare you claim this is merely
a sham!  We have only given the inanimates a voice so that they can say
the things to you they've always wanted to."

"They only lack the physical means, not a spiritual one!  How *dare*
you?!"  Suddenly, there's a general buzz amongst the various items in
the pews.  One, if he paid specific attention to it, could note a rather
distinct negative aspect to it, as if they suddenly didn't like you.

Or, at the very least, the two of you that're chomping doughnuts...

(?)

Subject: Re: [v13] Stone Cold Release
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 09:02:25 PST
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

I do what best I can to make sure that Tammy is ok.  While keeping gumby
in a slight coma until we can figure out what is going on.  "Are you
ok?"  I carry gumby so that we can survey the land.

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 12:09:40 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

> Meahwhile, Och can't help but concur with Silhouette.  "Aye, Masque.
> The man isn't totally insane, for some objects, while inanimate, are in
> fact intelligent.  The 'faithful' in this church itself are proof of
> that.  Though it would seem that these Animists are making them so..."

> "Harrumph," says Senor Barnett, who has since joined Masque at the table
> holding the free continental breakfasts.  Taking a big bite of a
> powdered doughnut, he says "Thaff riat.  Theff thinss caah olee taak
> coss theff iveeits mekk um."  *gulp*  "Creepy stuff, that."

*Oh is that a jelly donut I see over there.*

" I don't know how you are seeing it OCh. But my thoughts are that these
'touched' people here just went to the thrift store, bought some
appliances and whatnot and put them in this church. Kind of like little
girls playing 'tea party'. And besides...watch what I can do."

Masque makes a makeshift puppet from part of his robe and this new
friend says hi to Och and Sil.

"Hi!"

- albeit in a higher pitched voice than Masque's and Masque's lips only
moved a little

That being said and done, Masque proceeds to introduce himself to his
new friend and seemingly start an argument with it.....

> "Blasphemers!"  It would seem that the priest Masque displaced at the
> podium has recovered his composure.  "How dare you claim this is merely
> a sham!  We have only given the inanimates a voice so that they can say
> the things to you they've always wanted to."

"I do not think that Scooby was Shagging Daphne....whats wrong with you
man?"

> "They only lack the physical means, not a spiritual one!  How *dare*
> you?!"  Suddenly, there's a general buzz amongst the various items in
> the pews.  One, if he paid specific attention to it, could note a rather
> distinct negative aspect to it, as if they suddenly didn't like you.

> Or, at the very least, the two of you that're chomping doughnuts...

"Shutup...you here that?"

Masque suddenly comes to his senses stops the debate with his puppet.

"I think you made the priest angry Senor"

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 15:28:30 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

> "Laugh all you want, monkeyboy!"  Apparently, Shade has found his guts again.  
> "Mock us, if you will, but you'll pay for this!  You'll *all* pay for this!!  
> When mighty Falitus returns for us, he'll see your heads mounted on pikes 
> outside his new palace!!!

Ronin looks from Shade and Flattop then back to Rock'n'Roll.
He gives him a "told ya so" look.  Ronin gives Shade a killer look:

"All the better....it can stand next to yours which will be impaled
on the end of my blade!"

Ronin smiles real feral like.

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 14:33:18 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

Natasha just nodded and watched as he guns were stowed away.

"Yes, sir. I'll sit up front. No need for any more crap to happen. Oh,
and I'll be pulling in my probability field here so I don't cause the
vehicle to tumble uncontrollably into a river or anything." she stated
while striding to the front of the vehicle, tightening her field around her.

Once she got up front, she just settled back and tried to rest a bit,
but doing her best not to fall asleep as her field would expand and
possibly lead to future calamity.

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 15:23:42 -0600
From:    "Andy Hicks" <ahix@mail.utexas.edu>

>Rock 'n Roll keeps tabs on the prisoners, while Grunt and Breaker help
>move both Clutch and Hardcore to those bunks towards the front of the
>covert ops bus.  Hawk then comes up to you two wounded folks, and he
>apologizes about the trouble.

>"I'm really sorry about this mess, you two.  However, I have to let you
>know that I'd consider it a personal favor if neither of you pressed any
>charges against Jinx.  I happen to need her for part of an operation
>I've got to pull in relation to a really bad apple."

Hardcore grimaces in pain, as by now he is a complete, bloody mess due to the
events of the day.

"I ain't gonna press charges, but I sure as hell might beat her within an
inch of her life!  That girl is crazy... damn near killed me just fer
puttin' her in her place!  The bitch!

"You do want ya want with her, but as soon as yer through, her ass belongs
to me!"

>Hawk continues.  "At any rate, tough guy,", indicating you, Hardcore,
>"you aren't going to be able to walk on that leg safely, from the looks
>of things.  Not for a day or two, at the very least.  Is there anything
>I can do to help out?"

>"Like maybe a ride or an old-fashioned tow job?"  Seeing that you're in
>one piece, and that Jinx isn't currently a threat any more, Hazzard
>wanders off to check up on Tangerine, who's still out cold thanks to the
>beating that cybernetic bounty hunter gave her.

"I tell you what.  You let me tag along with yer crew long enough to square
things up with Jinx, and I'd owe ya one.  And if ya could swing by and tow
my van with us, that'd be even better.

"Trust me.  I'll be back on my feet in no time."

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 16:03:41 -0700
From:    "Lady Arakne" <araknesweb@darkspiral.com>

'Blasphemers!"  It would seem that the priest Masque displaced at the
podium has recovered his composure.  "How dare you claim this is merely
a sham!  We have only given the inanimates a voice so that they can say
the things to you they've always wanted to."

"They only lack the physical means, not a spiritual one!  How *dare*
you?!"  Suddenly, there's a general buzz amongst the various items in
the pews.  One, if he paid specific attention to it, could note a rather
distinct negative aspect to it, as if they suddenly didn't like you.

Or, at the very least, the two of you that're chomping doughnuts...

Sil looked at Masque and Och, shaking her head. Men could really
put their feet into it sometimes, and she was just goign to have to
wait and see how these two were going to get themselves out of
this one....

Subject: Re: [v13] Stone Cold Release
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 18:34:56 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

> I do what best I can to make sure that Tammy is ok.  While keeping
> gumby in a slight coma until we can figure out what is going on.  "Are
> you ok?"  I carry gumby so that we can survey the land.

You can see the last remnants of the space-warping field the Seven
Dimensional Man hit Tammy with are fading at last; her proportions and
general shape are returning to normal.  She indeed seems okay, too; in
fact, once you check in on her, she returns to consciousness.

"Ugh... did'ya get the number of that truck?"

You help her up to her feet, but don't really need to carry her about
(unless you want to, of course).  Looking about, you see that you're in
some sort of fertile valley; not a jungle, per se, though it could be if
it were maybe sixty degrees warmer hereabouts.

There's the occasional chunk of ice, but no huge glacier-like masses of
the stuff, as if it were simply too warm for them, and they melted in
mid-transit from here to the Gulf.  You spy several small streams
flowing in what you assume to be a southerly direction.

You have no compass, but it seems to be the best guess, since there *is*
the ol' Gulf of Mexico thataway.  In the distance, you can see several
folks working the day away, cleaning up some ice and attempting to
recover the remains of some sort of farm.

That's the odd thing, however, since you didn't know that people were
living around here back then.  At least, not people with handguns and
electronic equipment, which you see adorning the farmers' belts.  What
do you?

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 18:57:14 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Christopher W. Acers wrote:

>> Meahwhile, Och can't help but concur with Silhouette.  "Aye, Masque.
>> The man isn't totally insane, for some objects, while inanimate, are
>> in fact intelligent.  The 'faithful' in this church itself are proof
>> of that.  Though it would seem that these Animists are making them
>> so..."

>> "Harrumph," says Senor Barnett, who has since joined Masque at the
>> table holding the free continental breakfasts.  Taking a big bite of
>> a powdered doughnut, he says "Thaff riat.  Theff thinss caah olee
>> taak coss theff iveeits mekk um."  *gulp*  "Creepy stuff, that."

> *Oh is that a jelly donut I see over there.*

> " I don't know how you are seeing it Och. But my thoughts are that
> these 'touched' people here just went to the thrift store, bought some
> appliances and whatnot and put them in this church. Kind of like
> little girls playing 'tea party'. And besides...watch what I can do."

> Masque makes a makeshift puppet from part of his robe and this new
> friend says hi to Och and Sil.

> "Hi!"

> - albeit in a higher pitched voice than Masque's and Masque's lips
> only moved a little

> That being said and done, Masque proceeds to introduce himself to his
> new friend and seemingly start an argument with it.....

>> "Blasphemers!"  It would seem that the priest Masque displaced at the
>> podium has recovered his composure.  "How dare you claim this is
>> merely a sham!  We have only given the inanimates a voice so that
>> they can say the things to you they've always wanted to."

> "I do not think that Scooby was Shagging Daphne....whats wrong with
> you man?"

>> "They only lack the physical means, not a spiritual one!  How *dare*
>> you?!"  Suddenly, there's a general buzz amongst the various items in
>> the pews.  One, if he paid specific attention to it, could note a
>> rather distinct negative aspect to it, as if they suddenly didn't
>> like you.

>> Or, at the very least, the two of you that're chomping doughnuts...

> "Shutup...you here that?"

> Masque suddenly comes to his senses stops the debate with his puppet.

> "I think you made the priest angry Senor"

> <next>

Oh, and Lady Arakne wrote:

> (snip stuff already quoted in Masque's post)

>> Or, at the very least, the two of you that're chomping doughnuts...

> Sil looked at Masque and Och, shaking her head. Men could really
> put their feet into it sometimes, and she was just going to have to
> wait and see how these two were going to get themselves out of
> this one....

After the priest finishes his admonishment of Masque and Senor Barnett,
he is approached by several others, some fellow monks you recognize from
that little incident in the back alley earlier in the night.  They
huddle and start talking things over.

Meanwhile, Masque is performing his little puppet show, and Seor
Barnett has lost his ability to contain himself; he's practically
rolling on the floor at this point, though he does pause after thirty
seconds of tear-laden laughter to snag another doughnut.

"Ooh, a long john!"

As this is taking place, Och shakes his head, and then walks up to the
priests.  "I apologize for my friends, here... they simply don't
understand what it is you're doing here.  If they seem insulting, well,
that's just because they can't comprehend your truths."

Meanwhile, Seor Barnett looks at you, Masque, looking just a bit
torqued at your last comment.  "What do you mean, they're mad at *me*?
You're the one doing the puppet show..."  He then looks back at the
priests, asking "Hey - what're they doing now?!"

Looking at the priests, you note that one of them has pulled out a
camera, and takes your picture, Masque!  Well, it could've been both you
and Barnett, but it seems that it was pointed your way.  That guy then
goes into the church's rear, and the others continue chatting away...

What do you folks do now, now that you've got a church full of at least
semi-intelligent objects chomping at the bit to get a piece of you ...?
Well, at least two of you, at any rate...

(?)

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Reaper)
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 18:27:16 -0800 (PST)
From:    Michael Joiner <ml_joiner@yahoo.com>

> Though out of town, the truck is within range of the town, in the event some 
> of those wackos within decided to take shots at it.  It seems that this little 
> disaster is about to be resolved, so now what do you do, hmmm.....?

Reaper looks at the truck, closes his eyes, then opens them - the
truck "solidifies", allowing the driver to get out, and the Guardsmen
to tow it away.

He turns to take in his surroundings, marveling at how it all seems
to fit his dream nicely.

He picks up his sweatshirt, shakes it off, then with a parting glance
at the gathered military, he shrugs and begins to walk away.

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Reaper)
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 21:00:21 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Michael Joiner wrote:

> He picks up his sweatshirt, shakes it off, then with a parting glance
> at the gathered military, he shrugs and begins to walk away.

You walk for a good mile or three, and the slow chill of winter starts
to catch up to you some; luckily, there's another town two miles ahead,
and thanks to your almost nagging awarness of all things, you know
there's another hotel handy.

Room six is vacant.

As you approach the town, you can hear a motorcycle approaching you from
the rear.  Just like in your dream, there's a woman in a blood red dress
riding on it, with blood red hair, and slick red-tinted sunglasses on.
Despite the fact that it's not quite yet dawn.

She stops aside you and says "Thanks for ruining my fun, you big jerk!
Do you know how hard it is to rile up folks like that in the States?
Especially out in the sticks?!  I'll remember you, mister!"  She revs up
her hog as if to take off, but waits a few seconds before going.

Looking at her, your awareness subconsciously grabs onto an image, some
sort of dual persona she's manifesting, though the second isn't readily
available to the naked eye.  For a fleeting second, you see, not a
woman, but a pile of weaponry.

Bullets, guns, knives, crossbows, missiles, hatchets, and more.

And then, you see the ultra-sharp image of the woman once more.  "Well,
I'm off.  Looks like I'll have to settle for boring ol' Lebanon again,
or maybe the New York City underworld, that's always interesting.  Or
maybe, just maybe... yes!  Race you to Quebec!"

(?)

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 21:10:11 -0600
From:    William Lockwood <albedo1@home.com>

Jinx just ignored any jibes, making her way up front, gritting her teeth
the whole time.

~Thinks he can take me on, does he!? Argh! I'll show him when this is
done! I'll stick those sticks so far up his ass he'll have to spit them
out!~ she thought darkly to herself, doing her best to try and keep
herself calm.

[Awwww. Such a perfect couple! Heh!]

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Thu, 28 Jan 1999 21:54:40 -0700
From:    "Lady Arakne" <araknesweb@darkspiral.com>

Meanwhile, Senor Barnett looks at you, Masque, looking just a bit
torqued at your last comment.  "What do you mean, they're mad at *me*?
You're the one doing the puppet show..."  He then looks back at the
priests, asking "Hey - what're they doing now?!"

Looking at the priests, you note that one of them has pulled out a
camera, and takes your picture, Masque!  Well, it could've been both you
and Barnett, but it seems that it was pointed your way.  That guy then
goes into the church's rear, and the others continue chatting away...

What do you folks do now, now that you've got a church full of at least
semi-intelligent objects chomping at the bit to get a piece of you ...?
Well, at least two of you, at any rate...

Sil creates her self a comfortable chair of seemingly solid shadows,
helping herself to a couple of old fashioned cake donuts and a
glass of juice, and preparing to watch the impending show.

She will try to 'mindspeak' to some of the "folks" nearby, politely
discussing topics of the day....

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Fri, 29 Jan 1999 02:12:29 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

> Looking at the priests, you note that one of them has pulled out a
> camera, and takes your picture, Masque!  Well, it could've been both you
> and Barnett, but it seems that it was pointed your way.  That guy then
> goes into the church's rear, and the others continue chatting away...

"Augghhh, My Soul"

<just a reply till tomorrow>

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Reaper)
Date:    Fri, 29 Jan 1999 19:46:03 -0800 (PST)
From:    Michael Joiner <ml_joiner@yahoo.com>

> You walk for a good mile or three, and the slow chill of winter starts
> to catch up to you some; luckily, there's another town two miles ahead,
> and thanks to your almost nagging awarness of all things, you know
> there's another hotel handy.

> Room six is vacant.

Reaper casts infrequent glances back towards the town he just left,
puzzled at how everything just went down, then seemed to sorta "stop"
- so much that he just walked outta there.  As the chill sets in he
puts his sweatshirt back on (more for appearance sake) and excites his
own body's ions to generate a warm heat. (roll 90 for the stunt - he's
already burned his clothes off his body once in his life, so 'in
theory' he's REAL carefull about that)

> As you approach the town, you can hear a motorcycle approaching you from the 
> rear.  Just like in your dream, there's a woman in a blood red dress riding on 
> it, with blood red hair, and slick red-tinted sunglasses on.  Despite the fact 
> that it's not quite yet dawn.

> He stops, stunned.

> She stops aside you and says "Thanks for ruining my fun, you big jerk!  Do you 
> know how hard it is to rile up folks like that in the States?  Especially out 
> in the sticks?!  I'll remember you, mister!"  She revs up her hog as if to 
> take off, but waits a few seconds before going.

> Looking at her, your awareness subconsciously grabs onto an image, some sort 
> of dual persona she's manifesting, though the second isn't readily available 
> to the naked eye.  For a fleeting second, you see, not a woman, but a pile of 
> weaponry.

> Bullets, guns, knives, crossbows, missiles, hatchets, and more.  And then, you 
> see the ultra-sharp image of the woman once more.  "Well, I'm off.  Looks like 
> I'll have to settle for boring ol' Lebanon again, or maybe the New York City 
> underworld, that's always interesting.  Or maybe, just maybe... yes!  Race you 
> to Quebec!"

"WHOA!!" Reaper shakes his head at the vision, "What ARE you!?!"
"Quebec?  I don't think so!", he says incredulously, "What are you
talking about 'rile up folks' - YOU did all this?  Like in my dream?"


OOC

- If she stays, cool -
- If not (as in she takes off on her motorcycle) Reaper fixes his gaze
on the bike, reaches out, and increases the heat in the engine area
until it, well, over-heats.
Initiative: 10 +3 - 13
Rolls (just in case - never know when your fly is unzipped!) 59, 75,
24, 08.

(OOC - if the later occurs, and the bike breaks down)
"Doesn't look like much of a race now.  May as well walk to Quebec
together if thats where we're goin'."  Reaper says, as he walks
towards her, "So like I was saying, what the hell are you?"

Subject: Re: [v13] A beginning... (Reaper)
Date:    Fri, 29 Jan 1999 23:14:51 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Michael Joiner wrote:

> "WHOA!!" Reaper shakes his head at the vision, "What ARE you!?!"
> "Quebec?  I don't think so!", he says incredulously, "What are you
> talking about 'rile up folks' - YOU did all this?  Like in my dream?"

"Yes."  She rides off.

> OOC

> - If she stays, cool -
> - If not (as in she takes off on her motorcycle) Reaper fixes his gaze
> on the bike, reaches out, and increases the heat in the engine area
> until it, well, over-heats.

> Initiative: 10 +3 - 13
> Rolls (just in case - never know when your fly is unzipped!) 59, 75,
> 24, 08.

> (OOC - if the later occurs, and the bike breaks down)

> "Doesn't look like much of a race now.  May as well walk to Quebec
> together if thats where we're goin'."  Reaper says, as he walks
> towards her, "So like I was saying, what the hell are you?"

When the blood-haired vixen's cycle comes to a smoking halt several
dozen yards away, she stops, and you quickly catch up to her; she was
still trying to get it started again by the time you walk up beside her.
She looks at you with murder in her eyes.

Oh sure, she's wearing sunglasses, but you can tell.  You don't even
need your awareness for *that*.

"What the hell am I?  As if you don't know."  She stops for a second,
kicking a pebble or two, as if in anger.  "Well, you know your friend,
that Death fellow?  He's a personification of a force of nature and
belief, the top of a food chain that starts with Hades, Hela, etc..."

She kicks some more pebbles, as if for effect.  "Now me, I'm just like
that, but with different gods.  Folks like Ares, Eris, and such.  War
gods.  A personification of conflict and strife, that's me.  Oh sure,
I'm not as tough, but it's the same gig.  You can call me War."

"But smile when you say that.  Now, you gonna fix my bike or what, you?"

(?)

Subject: [v13] Interlude: Things Better Left Untouched
Date:    Sun, 31 Jan 1999 01:16:02 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

It was done.

She had been here, laying on that table for six hundred and sixty six
days, ever since she'd arrived in this hellish space.  Ever since that
operation with the Normalcy Squad went awry, and her team wound up
chasing that demon-thing back to where it came from.

They'd rounded the corner in pursuit of the beast, only to realize that
it was leading them into a trap; the whole team had inadvertently passed
through it's secret portal into some unknown nether realm.  Surprise,
surprise.  The joke was on them.

There were two dozen of the monster's fellows, those Kedae, waiting for
them.  A fierce battle had ensued, a battle that most of the Squad
members with her managed to fight quite competently, given their abject
unpreparedness.  They managed to get away.

Unfortunately for her, one of the fell beasts snagged her with its whip,
it's horrible hellfire-laden whip, around the ankle before she could get
through the portal.  The others made it home, but they never even
bothered to come back for her; they'd left her for dead.

Like a child with a new toy, the Kedae drug her off, vowing to make her
pay for invading his sulfurous realm.  Locking her in its stronghold for
a time, the beast simply played with her; it would chop her to tiny
little bits, starve her to death, skin her with cheese graters, etc...

But she couldn't die.  She wouldn't die.

That was, of course, because the beast, this so-called Brimskull, he
wouldn't let her.  Sure, everything he did should have killed her cold,
but he wouldn't let her essence, the core of her soul, leave its body.
He forced it to heal itself up only to take it apart again.

For three months Brimskull played with her so, thoroughly enjoying the
unending torment he inflicted upon his guest, and growing more and more
amazed that he couldn't break her mind, couldn't totally savage her soul
to the point that his magics weren't enough to contain it any more.

This intrigued him, as he could never make his playmates last more than
a week or two.  As such, he decided to invest a little actual work into
her, as opposed to simply amusing himself when his hated master, the
evil Lord Keda, didn't have him doing some sundry task or another.

So he took her to his private chambers, those rooms in his stronghold
that even Lord Keda's magical vision couldn't penetrate, and bound her
to the table.  He then began to modify her, body and soul, with magic
and technique perverted beyond imagining.

He tinkered with her being on a personal, spiritual, and cellular level,
no single aspect of her being being spared from his malevolent purpose.
This went on for over a year, for six hundred and sixty five days, in
fact.  On the last day of his dread work, he exposed his soul to her.

That was when she finally ceased being human altogether.

Allowing the weight of what he'd exposed her resilient mortal mind sink
in for several hours, the dread Brimskull then removed the various
bindings, physical and spiritual, that held her to the table.  He was
proud; she didn't attack him immediately.

Instead, his new creation, this sculpture of flesh and blood, smiled at
him.  There was an alien, savage gleam in her eye, even to his terrible,
hellish perception; he'd done his work all to well.  She looked upon the
countenance of her re-creator, and said "Hello, father..."

Brimskull smiled himself, a feat that was rather interesting, since he
has no flesh bound to his ever-flaming skull.  Despite the fact that no
emotion was apparent on the remnants of his face, removed long ago in a
magical duel, one could simply feel the glee emanating from his person.

His creation loved him, would do anything for him, and thanks to his
long work, was potent enough to destroy even the hated, despised Lord
Keda.  Just then, however, disaster struck for Brimskull and his
creation.  The space around them was dissolving.

It would seem that somebody beat Brimskull's ersatz daughter to it, for
someone else had apparently destroyed Keda, and was now absorbing the
very essence of this universe, Tamrent.  Knowing he had only scant
seconds to spare, he cast a spell of dimensional transit on them.

The chaos wave of planar dissolution hit them both just then.

This caused Brimskull's demonic enchantment to go awry, and both he and
his creation were flung to the far reaches of time and space; thanks to
the way Tamrent's time flows in comparison to the earthly plane, well,
this made an extreme mess of things - at least for Brimskull.

Somehow, his daughter, his work of art, made her way home, just seconds
before her fellow Normalcy Squad operatives escaped from Tamrent
themselves.  Though she liked her new existence, loved it even, she
still hated those that left her for dead, and so she acted.

Seven hours later, she had finally finished with them.  The last one
died, impaled upon his own arms, after a long hour of torment; she made
sure he lasted that long, so she could enjoy his sweet pain and torment.
But the fact remained that Brimskull was gone.

This was somewhat confusing for her, formerly Sally Allman, who had been
reborn only to wreak havoc, chaos, and destruction at Brimskull's
behest.  She wandered the streets of Topeka for some time, aimless in
her thought, until she caught a vision of her new self in a mirror.

With that, everything had finally caught up to her, and she just went
bloody insane.  Oh, sure, she was mad before - nobody could survive what
she had and not be, but now any semblance of rational thought, any
clear-cut motivation for her existence, was now gone.

And the world would suffer for it.  Oh, how would it...

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:   Sun, 31 Jan 1999 01:48:03 -0600
From:   Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Getting the keys from a sleepy Hardcore, who had since been given some
pills to deaden the pain in his leg, Hawk and Flash then hitched the
man's van onto the back of the bus.  With that done, they took off for
the eastern seaboard, driving through the light snow as they left town.

As most everybody settled in for the night, sleeping wherever it was
comfortable (since three of the six bunks were occupied with wounded
folks), nobody notices the odd, nondescript van that passes them on the
bridge across the Missouri river.

It makes several stops in Omaha that night, first looking in on the
scene of an intense gunfight downtown, and then heading over to the
airport to check out the blasted area.  Though there were several police
and FBI agents in the area, nobody noticed them enter the damaged area.

"I love having a telepath on these ops," said one.  "Shut up, I can't
concentrate on keeping us 'invisible' if you keep blabbering about it,
now, can I?" asked the other, a rather irritable woman.  "Both of you be
quiet and do your jobs, already!" said a third.

They looked over the scene, while the telepath scanned the minds of the
local government folk.  "G.I.Joe, eh?  Seems that they already did our
work for us, cleaning out any evidence of abnormalcy.  The robotic arm
is gone, and so are the metahumans that caused this trouble."

"Good, good, good."  The third guy, apparently the leader, liked it when
people made his job easier.  "Now, we just need to see where they unload
all the 'evidence' they picked up, and 'confiscate' it.  Can't have any
folks looking in on technology beyond them, never know what'll happen."

The first guy, the one who was sweeping the area for tell-tale evidence
of what really happened with some sort of advanced scanner, picks up a
bit of concussion cannon.  "There, all done.  I guess you should just
fix everybody's memory, Mickie, and we can leave this stupid town."

Mickie, the telepath, hated this part of the job.  After a couple of
months, you'd think it would become easier to give people memories that
didn't beg any unnecessary questions.  There were always holes, though,
though she did her best to fill them in.

As the trio left, doing the 'good work' for the Normalcy Squad, they
forgot one big gaping hole, that being the fellow that Ronin had rescued
in the first place, one Doctor Davis, who they simply lost in the
shuffle, since they figured him long gone.

Too bad he was simply watching from outside, along with the rest of the
interested onlookers that wanted to know why they were missing their
flights.  After the Normalcy Squad trio left for parts unknown, though
likely involving G.I.Joe, he slipped off into the night...

                                   ***

Woo!  All done with that one, eh?  Just to let you all know, I'm going
to take about a day to work out the specifics on your next adventure,
and see if I can squeeze any other folks into your cozy, friendly little
trio of adventuring fun!!!

At any rate, on to the good stuff.  Andy, you managed to get Hardcore
225 Karma points (it was a rather long string you went on in one punch,
no?).  Peter, you got Ronin about 175.  Saving several folks after that
bomb blast helped you out quite a bit...

Not to mention what'cha did for the good Doctor, eh?

Bil, Jinx didn't get so much, but then, you DID shoot a couple of folks
all unwarranted-like (even if it *was* in character).  You managed aboot
115 yourself, which was still a positive amount for the adventure, so
that's not all bad, methinks.

I guess that's it for your second story, Bil.  And your firsts, Andy and
Peter.  Though Andy's was really two rolled into one (but it did help to
get'cha all together, no)?  Like I said, though, I'll get you all going
here again in no-time, okay?

Besides, there's lots of stuff that has yet to be resolved for you
guys...

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:   Sun, 31 Jan 1999 19:41:07 -0600
From:   "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

> Meanwhile, Senor Barnett looks at you, Masque, looking just a bit
> torqued at your last comment.  "What do you mean, they're mad at *me*?
> You're the one doing the puppet show..."  He then looks back at the
> priests, asking "Hey - what're they doing now?!"

"Sorry 'bout that business sir, but....."

> Looking at the priests, you note that one of them has pulled out a
> camera, and takes your picture, Masque!  Well, it could've been both you
> and Barnett, but it seems that it was pointed your way.  That guy then
> goes into the church's rear, and the others continue chatting away...

(I believe I already said this but what the Hell, it made me happy)

"Augghh, my Soul!"

Masque screams in disbelief, almost 'choir-boy'-like.

"He didn't even get my good side...hey you ..wait up, Lets do that one
again. Do you mind? I mean if yer gonna use it for a write-up on Me, you
need a good picture. I'll even let you use the camera, a painting would
be more pure, but hey, yer a bit confused....oh drat, He already left"

Masque grabs one more donut, wishing for some ez-cheese but only getting
an extra sprinkle, he makes his way to the room that the priest wnet
into.

"Yoohoo!"

Readying that award-winning smile, just in case the guy pops out and
surprises him again...

"Yoohoo!"

Subject: Re: [v13] the PsychoAnimists' Enclave
Date:    Sun, 31 Jan 1999 19:57:34 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@darkspiral.com>

Lady Arakne wrote:

> Sil creates her self a comfortable chair of seemingly solid shadows,
> helping herself to a couple of old fashioned cake donuts and a
> glass of juice, and preparing to watch the impending show.

> She will try to 'mindspeak' to some of the "folks" nearby, politely
> discussing topics of the day....

Oh, and Christopher W. Acers wrote:

>> Meanwhile, Senor Barnett looks at you, Masque, looking just a bit
>> torqued at your last comment.  "What do you mean, they're mad at
>> *me*? You're the one doing the puppet show..."  He then looks back at
>> the priests, asking "Hey - what're they doing now?!"

> "Sorry 'bout that business sir, but....."

>> Looking at the priests, you note that one of them has pulled out a
>> camera, and takes your picture, Masque!  Well, it could've been both
>> you and Barnett, but it seems that it was pointed your way.  That guy
>> then goes into the church's rear, and the others continue chatting
>> away...

> (I believe I already said this but what the Hell, it made me happy)

> "Augghh, my Soul!"

> Masque screams in disbelief, almost 'choir-boy'-like.

> "He didn't even get my good side...hey you ..wait up, Lets do that one
> again. Do you mind? I mean if yer gonna use it for a write-up on Me,
> you need a good picture. I'll even let you use the camera, a painting
> would be more pure, but hey, yer a bit confused....oh drat, He already
> left"

> Masque grabs one more donut, wishing for some ez-cheese but only
> getting an extra sprinkle, he makes his way to the room that the
> priest went into.

> "Yoohoo!"

> Readying that award-winning smile, just in case the guy pops out and
> surprises him again...

> "Yoohoo!"

Anyway, you're sitting there minding your own business, Silhouette,
trying to just talk to some of the local objects, and you notice that
you almost get an impression of what they're trying to say, but it's
mostly just empathic communication at this point.

Luckily, you can handle that as well.

Of course, what they're saying isn't all that complex, really.  These
devices are mostly just giving off impressions about their rather dull
and uninteresting existences.  After all, it's hard for a television to
actually have much to say, per se, when all it does is, well, work.

Mebbe a bit of disdain for the guy that beats on the side of it when
it's not working right, instead of taking the thing in to a proper
repair shop.  Or maybe love for the guy's wife, when she polishes the
screen up all shiny-like.

Just little things like that.  It's hard to keep a perspective on it.

Meanwhile, you wander into the back, Masque, to the aghast looks on
those priestly fellows at the podium, and when you walk in, you say your
piece, and promptly fall through the floor.  Apparently it was an
illusion, that floor, for you just fell into a pit.

This pit, about twenty feet deep, is full of all sorts of work benches
and the like, lining the way down the stone-covered walls down to the
bottom, where you impact for an Excellent (20) amount of Blunt Attack
damage (you didn't have time to avoid it, really).

Inside this secret chamber, you see several folks milling about at work,
including that fellow that took your picture, and is now looking it over
with a man in long black robes, some sort of tool-belt laden mechanic,
and this shaven-headed fellow wearing brown robes like those above you.

Hearing the 'oomph' of your impact, they look your way, and the greasy
guy with all the tool belts says "Oi, wot the 'ell is this, then?"

(?)

Subject: Re: [v13] Stone Cold Release
Date:    Mon, 01 Feb 1999 12:38:14 PST
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Just as I thought, stupid is just an Illusionist.  A good one though.
But, anyone with that much power would try to take over the world for
themselves not some two-bit hood.  Tammy are you ok?  Do you know of
anywhere we can dump this slime?  And how the heck do we get home?"

Subject: Re: [v13] Midwest Mayhem!
Date:    Mon, 1 Feb 1999 18:05:33 -0600
From:    "Andy Hicks" <ahix@mail.utexas.edu>

>At any rate, on to the good stuff.  Andy, you managed to get Hardcore 225 Karma 
>points (it was a rather long string you went on in one punch, no?).

Indeed.

One question:  how does Hardcore's Karma Deficiency quirk affect this
reward?  Is it 20% off 225, 20% off 250 (225+25 previous Karma), no penalty,
or what?

Just wondering before I updated my records...
