Subject: ToM - [ Mariana:4 ] Chaser Date: Mon, 31 Aug 98 10:05:51 (PDT) From: huyster a unforgettable.com Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" [ OOG: Cursing and adult situations ] Place: Sector Seven, Midgar Security Force Precinct Headquarters Time: July 9th, Early Morning Mariana sprinted through the dark tunnel, the echoes of her labored breaths the only sign of anything living. The blood pounding in her ears drowned it out, isolating her in the silent vacuum of her mind. After months of searching, she had finally tracked down the main suspect of her investigation. The perpetrator was just ahead of her; she could barely make out his outline. So close to success, she wasn't going to allow him to escape. For the life of her, she couldn't recall how she ended up in these mysterious catacombs. The fact that she was wearing nothing but lingerie didn't register in her mind either. Nor did she question the unusual lighting: there was no discernible source for the illumination around her. None of that mattered. Mariana Casero was about to crack the largest case in the history of the Midgar Security Forces. In her haste to pursue the vagrant, she had been unable to summon any back up. The trail would have been lost if she had taken the time out to do so. With all of the frustration she had to endure for the past two months, her patience had reached its limit. Mariana made the decision to strike out on her now. Just now, she began to feel the first notions of regret over the choice. Before she could dwell on it any further, the hallway turned into a vast antechamber. She crossed her wrists at arms' length in front of her; a gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other. With sharp movements, she panned from corner to corner, floor to ceiling. When she established that she was alone, she was left to puzzle over why the surroundings had changed abruptly and how she had lost track of the suspect. In a confused state, Mariana took stock of the new environment. The entire chamber looked like something right out of a history book. The decor was a conglomeration of artifacts that dated back to the time of the Ancients. Yet it all appeared new and fresh, as if they had been crafted yesterday. Just like the corridors she had just come from, the lighting seemed to emanate from the very air itself. Her attention finally settled on the large ornamental casket in the center of the chamber. It lay atop a circular dais with marble steps that beckoned her. Everything else faded away under a veil of gloom that encroached from the darkest recesses of the room. Mariana found herself inexplicably approaching the gaudy coffin. A sense of apprehension seized the center of her chest, limiting her to shallow breaths. Despite the dread, she couldn't bring herself to raise her gun or stop herself from advancing. When her bare feet touched the chiseled series of steps, she marveled at the warmth of the marble. The experience felt like she was gliding up rather than climbing the platform. After what seemed like an eternity, she stopped at the foot of the sarcophagus. Mariana found herself kneeling before it. Her hands were now empty and in the back of her mind, she tried to remember when she put the gun and flashlight down. There was no grinding, or any other sound for that matter, to accompany what happened next. The lid simply started to float up in the air before fading away into nothingness. Mariana could only gaze up in awe as the enigmatic figure she had been pursuing emerged from the confines of the coffin in front of her. He wore a dark cloak and hood that shrouded most of his face, allowing her to make out only his thin lips which were bent in a the barest hint of a smile. From her genuflecting position, it looked like he was as tall as the vast chamber itself. She could feel his eyes penetrating her from the inner depths of the cowl. In a soft voice, the man spoke, "Why do you prostrate yourself before me, my Beloved? Come to me, and let me soak in your unparalleled beauty." Unable to take her eyes off of him, she couldn't feel herself moving but somehow she found herself being drawn into his embrace. The velvet cloak wrapped itself around them even as she felt his arms encircle her waist. It all felt entirely wrong but the heat radiating from the center of her very being would not be denied. Yielding to his insistence Mariana closed her eyes, the mission all but forgotten. When his lips pressed against hers, she melted completely and would have collapsed had it not been for him holding her up. Never in her entire life had she experienced such an unrelenting passion. It was her hands that caressed his face. Her hands that guided him down to her exposed neck. Her hands that curled in the throes of the pure ecstasy as he bit down into her soft, warm flesh... Mariana jerked backwards with a start. In doing so, her arm knocked over the cup of coffee onto the floor. The mug shattered completely; its contents sprayed in every direction. She watched numbly as the pool spread out, threatening to soak her feet. "Are you okay?" The squad commander, Lieutenant Louis Fancy, was a large, jovial man who always had the best interests of his subordinates at heart. He poked his head out from his office when he heard the commotion outside. The expression of concern on his face was genuine, and that was the reason he was one of the few men Mariana trusted completely: his compassion for her had nothing to do with trying to get into her pants. She waved an arm towards the mess on the floor. "Sorry, Lou. I got a little careless." "Casero? What are you still doing here?" "I was just finishing some stuff up." He took one look at her puffy red eyes and frowned. She had been there all night studying the forensic evidence gathered from yesterday's incident. Times like these made Lou feel sorry that she had been unable to qualify for the regular Shinra military assignments. Her dedication was being wasted at an MSF post. He found her drive admirable and wished everyone else in his command would take after her lead, but enough was enough. "Go home. That's an order. I'll have the custodial staff take care of that mess. And no arguments. If I see your face here when I step out of this office in five minutes, I'll throw you over my shoulder and drive you home myself." Mariana threw up her hands in mock submission. Flashing him her warmest smile, she chirped, "Sure thing, Lou." Louis grunted in response before shutting the door. She slowly sank back into her chair, rubbing her stiff neck. As she stared blankly at the pile of papers strewn out in front of her, she could almost hear them mocking her in an annoying voice. The memory of the vivid dream she just had surged to the forefront of her mind and the thoughts of the reports were flushed away. Even now, her skin felt flushed and if it weren't for disheveled appearance, she was sure it would have be mistaken for an afterglow of some kind. "What an odd dream", she said aloud to herself. Still, her mind was running an auto-pilot after this recent all-nighter. Catching some sleep at home wouldn't be such a bad thing. Mechanically, Mariana threw on her jacket and headed out the door. What started as a simple idea turned out to be a nightmare. In her self-induced haze, Mariana overlooked the fact that today was the first day of Midgar Festival. Traffic along most of the main roads had been blocked off, forcing her to use detours and side roads. With all of the pedestrians milling about, she was driven nearly one entire sector out of the way. By the time she arrived at her apartment, Mariana was one large raw nerve waiting to be set off. Her apartment was located in Sector Two and just like her friend Rachel, she had recently put together enough money to move to the Upper Plate. However, she wasn't in the same income bracket so she had to settle for more a more modest dwelling. Nonetheless, it wasn't the slums and represented something tangible in her efforts to put her past behind her. Mariana flung open the door to her apartment and entered without breaking stride. Knowing full well no one else inhabited the place, she yelled out, "Honey, I'm home!" As usual, only the cool silence greeted her. In one motion she flung her keys and jacket into the corner, ignoring the scurrying that the action caused. Not only was her place smaller than Rachel's, it was also less well kept. She often referred to the various unwholesome elements that flocked to her abode as `extra roommates.' Wasting no time, Mariana made a bee-line to the kitchen. Although it was dimly lit, she could find her way around with no trouble at all. Besides which, keeping the lights at a low intensity prevented her from having to acknowledge the mess she was mired in. After digging around, she procured the bottle of Mideel Scotch she kept around. Technically it wasn't a night cap but she sorely needed it right now. Once she fished a can of Tresbonnebiere out of the refrigerator, she proceeded to pour herself a shot. She popped open the can and picked up the shot glass, taking a second to inhale the deep fragrance of the aged spirit. Then she tilted her head back and threw down the shot of liquor. A fiery warmth developed in the pits of her stomach before spreading out to envelop her chest. Immediately after, Mariana started chugging on the beer to chase the scotch. The entire time, she didn't notice someone coming up behind her until a pair of hands reached around to grope her breasts. Mariana's eyes snapped open mid-gulp as the unknown assailant began to fondle her. The fatigue she felt vanished in a heartbeat under the adrenaline that surged through her body. She pitched the can aside while reaching up with her left hand to seize the intruder's thumb. Twisting hard on it, she forced the man into submission. At the same time, she whirled around and whipped her gun out of its holster. Thumbing the safety off, she planted the barrel right between the assailant's eyes. Despite the fact his face was contorted in pain, the man managed a sheepish smile. "Wow, that was pretty good, Casero." Mariana glared down at him, unmoved by his familiarity with her. She neither released her grip nor set the safety on the gun back on. The look in her eyes generated some discomfort in him. Her continued silence served to unnerve him to the point of piping up, "Hey, it's me, Kenny. You can put the gun away, Pussycat!" Instead of complying, she suddenly lashed out with her foot and kicked him in the groin. In that instant, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. He might have cried out in agony except for the fact all of the wind left his lungs. Only then did Mariana let him go and re-holster her weapon. Without her holding him up, Kenny curled up into a ball on the kitchen floor clutching himself in agony. Unmoved by his current suffering, Mariana not only stepped over him but on him as she left the kitchen. She spoke without looking back, the disdain clearly showing in her voice "Clean up the mess in there and get out." Once again, the exertion of the past 24 hours caught up with her. She barely managed to stumble to the bedroom before flopping face first onto the bed. The thought of removing her bra and holster crossed her mind but she was too tired to care. Mariana reached out and pulled the crumpled sheets over her head. A sigh escaped her lips as she savored the warmth and comfort of her mattress. Several minutes later, she heard Kenny enter the room. Apparently, he had learned his lesson and kept his distance this time, staying several feet away. Before he could say anything, Mariana said tiredly, "I thought I told you to get out?" His response was completely opposite from the playful tones he adopted earlier, "Listen, Mariana, I told you that nothing happened between me and that woman. We were just having lunch together." Not ever bothering to open her eyes, she retorted, "Sure! Oral sex as the appetizer and a double serving of fucking for the entree with some light bondage on the side!" "That's your imagination, not mine. I've been calling every day for the past two weeks since then but you never pick up the phone. I don't know what else I can do to prove to you that nothing physical happened." "Hmmm, let's see, I don't recall asking you to prove anything. What _was_ my last request? Lemme' think for a sec'. Oh yeah, I wanted you to get your sorry ass out of my apartment before I kick you out!" The heavy sarcasm silenced him. For over a minute, Mariana lay there feeling his eyes on her. All she wanted was for him to go away and leave her alone. It didn't take too much longer to realize he wasn't going oblidge. She felt him approach until he sat beside her on the bed somewhat gingerly, his weight causing it to sink towards him. Hidden by the sheets, her hand clenched into a fist ready to stop him before he could... Too late. He took a firm hold of her shoulders with his two hands. Immediately, he started kneading the flesh to loosen up the knotted muscles. Mariana had muster up all of her will to suppress a moan: if nothing else, her boyfriend could administer a killer massage. The conviction she possessed earlier started to diminish under his expert ministrations. Her voice was much softer now, "I'll give you about a half an hour to cut that out." Kenny leaned in to whisper into her ear, "Am I forgiven for being such a flirt?" The teasing nature of his question wasn't lost on her. They both knew she was often as guilty of the same crime he currently stood accused of. She could almost see his trademark idiotic grin. "No." "That's what your lips tell me but your body says otherwise." With that, he shifted over to kiss the base of her neck. The contact sent chills down her spine, causing her to shudder. Damn him, why did he have to be such an Adonis? Mariana took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it lovingly. "Jerk. Do you think I can be seduced so easily?" In response, he started planting a series of soft kisses along nape of her neck. A series of tingling sensation fluttered down her back all the way to her buttocks. Oh hell, she thought to herself, I can get all the sleep I want when I'm dead. === Regards, Huy Nguyen ( All Things Anime ) http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Dojo/5801/ _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free a yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Heading down memory lane to a trap... (Leia's intro) Date: Tue, 01 Sep 98 03:01:05 (PDT) From: Da Ly Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" [OOG: Yeah, I know I said I'd send out the post this morning, but I forgot I had a couple of errands to run. ::sighs:: Geez, I hate breaking promises... Anyway, if there's a post that is in anyway connected to Kytira, you know there's a high chance of a language warning. WARNING: language. See, what I tell ya? :) And technically, this is sorta a double post since there is just a small part about Kytira in the beginning.] Time: about 3:05 PM Place: Sector 3 slums... Zeng suddenly stopped walking and turned to Kytira. "Scratch that plan," he said, walking in the opposite direction and back towards the train station. "We're going back to headquarters..." "What?!" Kytira exclaimed, running after him. "But you just said..." "--you're unarmed. You need a weapon. The most you could probably do is slap him..." Zeng said, a statement that Kytira immediately took as an insult. "Excuse me??!" Kytira's jaw dropped open as her eyes shifted to an icy gaze. "I could do more than that!!" Zeng glanced at her and raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'Like what?' She narrowed her eyes. "I still have my materia, dummy." He shrugged the comment off and stared straight ahead towards the train station. Then it suddenly hit Kytira. She stopped walking and swallowed hard. "Hey!! How are we going to get back? He took my money, remember?" "I have enough gil," Zeng replie, digging into his pocket to bring out a handful of coins, jingling with each step he took. "WHAT??! Why didn't you say so?? You could've paid for the train tickets!! Aww... damn!" Kytira exclaimed and snapped her fingers once as she muttered a few curses. *** [OOG: Now, it's Leia's point of view. Yes, my new character...] Time: 6:50 PM, July 9th/2000 Place: Sector 4 upper plate, Escaler mansion Leia slowly took the cordless phone away from her ear and slid the antennae back into it's home as she clicked the 'end' button. She leaned her back against the wall, stared at the ceiling as slowly slid down the ivory colored wall until her black brace-covered knees were near her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head on her knees. Her dark brown wavy hair covering her arms, hiding her face. She so badly wanted to crawl under a rock, weep and then die. All day, she was trying to tell Kytira that she had just came back to Midgar on vacation from her boarding school outside of Junon, but Kytira had been too busy to even listen for a moment which slightly irritated Leia. She now felt guilty for being annoyed with her guardian. The thought of this day's possibilities of being Kytira's last day alive saddened the 16-year-old beyond belief. However, instead of crying, she quickly got up and headed towards the entrance door, pausing only to pick up her house keys along with her purse off the table in the hallway and set her weapon (a whip) in it's place. *** Time: 7:20 P.M. Place: Train heading towards sector 3 slums. (almost there...) Leia silently gazed out the window, trying hard to think of the best. 'Kytira'll live,' she thought. 'She's got to...' She swallowed hard, wiping her damp violet eyes with the back of her hand, wincing at the pain her ring caused as it scratched her skin. She stared at the ring that caused her the pain and her face scrunched up again, trying not to break down and cry. This was her Kytira's mother's ring. Kytira's mother and the rest of her family were dead, except for her brother, Marcus, who Kytira swore she could feel he is still somewhere out there. Leia was the same as Kytira, the last one of her family. She considered Kytira the closest person to family and vice versa. What made it harder, was that Kytira had promised her sister that she'd always be there to look out for her. 'And she always has....' (Start of flashback...) "Hey Cindy," the brunette said to the tall redhead. "It looks like Leia's going to cry... hmmm.... maybe we should stick her in the Kindergarten class where she belongs." "Yeah," the third one replied, enthusiastically, snickering once in awhile and loudly snapping her bubble gum. "Where she belongs." "Hmm..." Cindy said, a stereotypical smug 'bitch' expression on her face. "That's a good idea." They slowly advanced on Leia as she looked around for means of help while backing up slowly. She suddenly bumped into something, turned around, looked up into the person's face, smiled and hid quickly darted behind her for means of protection. "Touch my sister and I will ruin your fucking nose job, you sleazy ass bitch," Kytira said firmly, clenching a fist and throwing a threatening glare at the clique. "What the hell are you doing bothering someone who's six years younger than you, anyway?" Cindy laughed with her nose in the air. "Oh, look girls. It's the tomboy." The others giggled in return as Kytira kept her gaze. She smirked and raised her right eyebrow. "Now see, that's your problem. You've gotta stop mixing me up with your pansy-ass sister. Speaking of your slut like sister, I saw her recently with the math teacher... in the closet," Kytira shot back, smiling. The redhead glared at her menacingly then at Leia who was still hiding behind her sister and smiling at the clique innocently. "Hmph! Forget it! Some poor peasant tomboy from Wutai who got rich because her foster mother's loaded, ain't worth talking to." She gave a satisfied smile, stuck her nose in the air and whirled around, the others following suit. Calmly, Kytira glanced down at Leia and gave a questioning look. The little girl nodded eagerly on cue as if she could read her sister's thoughts. Kytira grinned and quickly tapped Cindy on the shoulder. "I thought I told you--ahh!" Kytira cut her high-pitched voice off with a swift right hook that resounded in an ugly sounding "crack". The blonde fell to the floor. With her bloody hands clutching her nose, she gave Kytira the 'evil eye'. "Aughh!! You bitch, you'll pay for that!" "I can't," she replied, grinning. "I'm a poor peasant girl, remember...?" Her smile morphed to a harsher and cruel kind, as did her tone of voice. "If you ever bother my sister, I swear I will permanently ruin your nose job and light your hair on fire, get it?" (End of flashback...) [OOG: If you think that would never happen. Think again. I've actually done this to someone because she was bothering my little godsister..... I then got a phone call home and a week of detention for "displaying violent behavior...." But truthfully, it was worth it. ^_~] Leia chuckled softly, still wiping a few leftover tears away. They did bother her again, but fled when Kytira showed up with a science lab sparker in hand. Leia had always had a hard time fitting in at the school because of that crowd in particular. Before Kytira came into the scene, they'd always tease her and embarrass her in anyway they could because she wouldn't dare stand up for herself. When Kytira showed up, they didn't dare to do anything since it was obvious they could give Kytira as many detentions as they wanted, but still, she'd always protect Leia even if it resulted in violence. The brunette raised her head, realizing she was just a few minutes away from arriving at the Sector 3 slums train station. She closed her eyes, pursed her lips and took a deep breath. 'If Kytira dies... oh god... No, she can't die... She just can't...' *** Time: 7:30 P.M. Place: Blue Plate Hotel, Sector 3 slums. Shaking, Leia pressed the 'up' button for the elevator and waited, rocking back and forth on her heels. She wasn't too sad right now because she had other things on her mind. Quin Quentin, Kytira's secret lover. Kytira had never said anything to Leia about him and what surprised her even more, was Kytira didn't really have too much of a 'soft and romantic' side to her. In fact, she did grow up as a tomboy and always drove the boys in the neighborhood away with a swift kick to the... Leia glanced up to see the light blinking above the elevator as the doors split open. 'Poor guy...' Leia thought, stepping onto the elevator. 'He's probably in worse shape than I am over Kytira. I hope they didn't call in with the results yet...' She pressed the button for the tenth floor Quin's room was on then stared silently at the floor below her athletic sneakers. 'Hmmm... if he's her lover, that means Kytira's either changed or he's got a lot of patience with her attitude... Hahaha...' *** [OOG: K Kid 1, your turn... And people, I'll finish Kytira's part later, K?] Da Ly -- ICQ: #18219424 AIM: DalyW7 Yahoo Pager: Da_Ly "When you get mad, don't get even. Just watch your chance and when he least expects it, hit him with a brick and steal his wallet." -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Protests (Tyr- 30) Date: Tue, 01 Sep 98 03:01:10 (PDT) From: Tim9475 a aol.com Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" Time: 9:00 AM, July 8, 2000 Place: Shinra HQ Tyr gazed out the window of his office. The city of Midgar stretched out before him. More specifically Sector 5 was beyond his window, the site of Black 36. The chemical's release had ended up being one of Shinra's most embarrassing defeats in their entire war against AVALANCHE. Tyr remembered those moments in the hospital when he'd first heard the reports about Black 36. He'd been sure that he'd failed, that Rio had been unable to warn AVALANCHE in time to stop Shinra. The preliminary report were later proven to be greatly exaggerated. Apparently, Rio had succeeded in rallying AVALANCHE to stop Shinra from releasing Black 36 after all. The whole episode was a major embarrassment to Shinra. At first, it seemed to work as Shinra had hoped and public opinion initially turned against AVALANCHE. However, people swiftly began to realize that Shinra was doctoring images to make the chemical's release seem much more disasterous than it truly was and the inevitable question of why Shhinra would lie about the chemical's effects began to eat away at people's trust in Shinra. Rufus' later actions did nothing to reassure the minds of the worried populace. He issued a temporary quarantine of the slums which made leaving the slums difficult at best...impossible for some. Rufus claimed that it was an attempt to keep contagients from spreading, but all of the Shinra High Command knew the truth...Rufus was afraid that word of Shinra's duplicity in the Black 36 affair. The death of AVALANCHE was a double edged sword. On the one hand, many people saw it as showing Shinra's firm commitment to maintaining public law and order. The people who felt that way were mainly from Sectors 1 and 5, the two areas hit the hardest by AVALANCHE's terrorist attacks. Not all people agreed with that line of thinking. For some people, AVALANCHE became heros. Barret Wallace was seen by these people as a martyr who died in an attempt to free a friend who had been unjustly imprisoned. The slum dwellers, who Tyr knew had little reason to love the Shinra, primarily agreed with this point of view. Tyr's reminiscing was interrupted by the ringing of a phone on his desk. "This is Commander Tyr Signus," Tyr said. "Ah, good...I'm glad I was able to reach you," the voice from the phone said. Tyr grimaced when he recognized the voice. Darryl Benedict...the SOLDIER commander at Junon and a staunch believer in Rufus' terror tactics. "You were trying to reach me?" Tyr asked. "Yes. I was wondering if you would do me a big favor. The new SOLDIER recruits at Junon are well...unmotivated to say the least. They're getting a little too lazy and complacent. I was wondering if you could fly down tomorrow and make an inspection of the troops. You're practically a living legend down here," Benedict stated. Tyr cringed inside when he heard Benedict's request. While on the surface it was a perfectly reasonable request, Tyr knew there had to be more behind it than simply motivating troops. Ever since the slum protests in Sector 5 the previous month, Tyr knew that Rufus had it in for him. The protests had begun just days before Tyr was to be released from the hospital so Benedict had still been in charge at Midgar. He'd used SOLDIER to break up the non-violent protests and 28 slum-dwellers had been killed in the action. Immediately after resuming command of SOLDIER, Tyr had ordered Benedict to his office for reprimand, but had learned that the man's orders had come from Rufus himself. Tyr had gone to confront Rufus over this. SOLDIER was an elite force for dealing with terrorists and other military targets... not helpless civilians who simply wanted more food and medical aid. Tyr also questioned the necessity of sending armed troops to quell a peaceful protest with very reasonable requests. All the people wanted was medical supplies and food which Rufus had promised them in the days immediately following the Black 36 attack. Tyr had presented these arguments, but had been coldly rebuffed by Rufus and vaguely warned of the consequences of questioning any of his orders in the future. Ever since then it was becoming more and more evident to tyr that he had lost rufus' favor... in fact it was likely only because Tyr was seen as the hero of the Sector 1 fire that he'd retained his position. If Rufus ever found out about Tyr's deal with Rio about Black 36... "Hello?!? Commander, are you there?" Benedict's voice came at Tyr through the phone. "Yes, I'm here," Tyr answered. "Have you made a decision? Will you come to Junon?" Benedict asked. The whole Junon trip seemed phony to Tyr. Something about it didn't seem quite right. Likely, Benedict would end up writing a glowing report about Tyr inspiring his men to new and greater heights. That would finally give Rufus a way to strip Tyr of his command. Rufus could then justify reassigning Tyr to an out of the way SOLDIER training school somewhere far from Midgar. "No, Darryl, I don't believe I'll be able to make it," Tyr said. There was a pause for a moment on Benedict's end. TYr thought he heard faint voices in the background. Finally, Benedict's voice returned, "Are you sure, sir? Won't you reconsider? The SOLDIERs here would really appreciate your visit." "The festival begins tomorrow and I'll be far too busy. Perhaps I can inspect Junon at a later date," Tyr said, not intending to ever go to Junon if he could avoid it. A sigh came from the phone. "As you wish, sir. If you reconsider..." "I won't," Tyr interjected. He hung up the phone... the conversation was over. ----- Time: 9:30 AM, July 8, 2000 Place: The Office of Darryl Benedict, Junon "Damn, it didn't work," Benedict muttered. "The bastard didn't fall for it." "I told you to be careful. He's much more clever than you give him credit for." Benedict shook his head, "No, he's just too duty bound to take any of his own initiative." "Oh? And I suppose his role in locating AVALANCHE and stopping the attack on the Sector 2 Reactor were entirely someone else's doing?" Benedict stood up from behind his desk and turned to face the other man. "The point is that he opposes the President. You know as well as I that Shinra cannot stand for any sort of insubordination from his employees.' "I understand that very well, probably better than you. You're a good company man, loyal to the President and loyal to the Shinra ideals. Don't worry too much about Signus. We'll deal with him soon enough." Benedict fumed. "Don't worry about Signus?!? The man is dragging SOLDIER down with him! We need a much more free hand to enforce the President's will. And what's with all this sneaking around and secrecy anyways?!? If you're truly as loyal to the Shinra ideals as you say, why haven't I heard of you and why do you insist on meeting me only in utter secrecy?!?" "Enough! If you cannnot trust us then you can handle Signus alone. You've benefited from our aid many times in the past and have risen to the point where you're a hairs breath from command of SOLDIER. Don't throw it away now...we do not appreciate it when those we help are ungrateful. We have one of our best agents working on investigating Signus even as we speak. He'll find proof of the man's treachery. Soon Signus will be out of the way and SOLDIER will again be pure." -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM:..... is a Painful one Date: Tue, 01 Sep 98 18:06:07 (PDT) From: Chapman Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" Day: 8/9/2000 Time: Evening Place: Sector 2 As Ramzi and Turi stepped off the trainstation, Turi streched his arms. He and Ramzi were not very far from Ramzi's home. Turi scratched the back of his head as Ramzi checked with the lugage men where his stuff was. The man only carried one bag. Whatever was in the damn thing puzzled Turi. " Alright, let's go. " Ramzi said, moving past Turi, suitcase in hand. Turi nodded and followed. * * * * * * * Time: Late-Afternoon Place: Sector 1 As Korrine headed over toward the newstand, Azeral stood. " Sarah....can I ask you something? " He asked. Vixen loked up at him. " Of course. " She said, smiling. Azeral took her hand, and sat back down. He wondered why he even got up in the first place. He realized it was probably because he was nervous. Azeral opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find the right word. After pondering for a minute, Azeral said, " Sarah... I don't know when we are due to get married, But I have something to ask you about that matter. " He said. Vixen frowned. " What is it? " She asked. Azeral turned his head away. He thought for a minute. He didn't want to say this. " Sarah.. I.. I can't remeber how we first met... I don't remember ever conceieveing a child with you, " When she arched an eyeborw. Azeral cleared his throat. " What I'm trying to say is, I'm so happy to be with you, now. I missed you a lot. " Vixen smiled at him and caressed his left cheek with her hand. " I missed you too... " She said. As Vixen wiped away the wetness from her eyes. Azeral smiled at her. " I;m glad..But Sarah. Do you think we should get married? Just yet anyhow? " He said. Vixen looked at him in disbelief. Azeral held up a hand. " No,no,no. That's not what I meant- " " Then what did you mean! " Vixen shouted, standing on. she placed her fists on her hips. Azeral stood up, towering over her. " What I meant was... Sarah... I don't have a job... I don't have a house.. What can I offer you? How can I help take care of our child? " He asked. Vixen's experisson changed to a comforting smile. " Azeral... You can offer me plently. The only thing I want is you. The job, the house, I'm sure we'll find something, " She smirked, " And...mabye..sometime in the future...you can offer yourself to me.. " She said with a coy smile. Azeral met her smile. He embraced her and kissed her. " That's a promise I can keep. " They smiled and each other before a man behind Azeral said something. " Excuse me, folks? You two look like a nice couple. Lookings for a place to settle down? " The man said. Azeral turned to him, Vixen stepped next to him. Azeral exchanged a look with Vixen then said. " Show us what you got. " The man smiled. he was a middle-aged, beard and a beer-belly. His checkered-green flannel covered his white tank top. " Just step into my office if you may.... " He said, gestureing toward an store across the street. * * * * * * * Place: Sector 2, Chapel. Turi felt an odd chill run down his back. He was in a chruch. He always felt up-and-down when inside a chruch. Ironic, that he used to always goto to chruch everyday. Ramzi was speaking to two other men by the Chancel. Turi sat at a pue and listen to the peacefully ringing of the choir, singing. Turi smiled a bit. He reconized the setup. There was nobody but the choir, and the choir director in the front of the chruch. Decorating the pues were very few people, old people mainly, just sitting, and enjoying the company. In the Narthex was Ramzi talking to two dark looking fellows. Odd for a chruch. Turi sat a moment, thinking about Korrine. He smiled to himself. He re-drew her image in his mind. First her hair, Her bright blondish-brown hair. Then her aqua eyes. They say eye's are windows to the soul. If that's ture, then Korrines eye could tell everything about her. As his mind re-drew her body, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up, to see Ramzi. " We must be going. " He said. Turi nodded, and the two of them left the peaceful enviroment of the church. * * * * * Azeral sat down inthe chair, catalog in hand. Vixen sat on his lap, both of them gazeing through it. " This one's gorgous.... " Vixen said, pointing at a picture. Azeral frowned at the price. "1,350,000 gil? If wishes were ponys. " Azeral grumbled. Vixen agreed. A lot of the prices for these homes were outragous. Vixen ntocied out fo the corner of her eye, Korrine. She was sitting by herself, crying. " What's wrong with Korrine? " She asked. Azeral looked up from the catalog, and saw Korrine. Vixen was the first to get up. But being pregant made her slow down. Azeral helped a bit, but when Vixen shrugged his hands off insisting that she'd be fine, Azeral headed over to Korrine. " Korrine, what's wrong? " Azeral said, crouching next to her. Korrine looked up at him and wiped her eyes. " He's dead. " She said weakly. Azeral looked back at Vixen, who shrugged, then back at Korrine. " Who Korrine? " Azeral asked. Korrine sniffled. " Ty did. He was at Costa Del Sol when it happened. Azeral.. , " She sobbed at first, but then wiped her eyes. Azeral could sense Korrine trying to regain control herself. " Azeral.. When's Turi coming back? " She asked. Azeral shrugged. " I don't know. " Azeral said. He couldn't think of anything else to say. Korrine sniffled again, and looked up at Azeral. " Azeral please.. I'm feeling so alone... Could you hold me, just for a minute? " Korrine asked. When Azeral hugged her, he could feel Korrine crying. He turned his head to Vixen, who had a look a pity. When Korrine pulled away she wiped her eyes. " Wanna talk about it? " Vixen asked. Korrine smiled and nodded. The two went to sit dwon and the two began to talk. Azeral stood, hands in his pockets. < Turi, I hope you get back soon. Someone over here really can use your support, > ----------------------- [OOG: Alright, I'll finsihe this post later. Coments and the like, please do :) ] -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Unexpected turn of events... Date: Tue, 01 Sep 98 21:49:13 (PDT) From: Daly Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" [OOG: Yay, a not so weird title!! ^_^ Crack out the coffee/jolt/Coke/Pepsi/Kick/whatever kind a drink that's loaded with caffeine. You'll need either caffeine or sugar to read this one. ::sigh:: Warning: Language. ^_^] Time: 4:55 P.M. July 9th/2000 Place: Shinra HQ "What the hell is this?" Kytira asked, holding a silver gun, smaller than her previous weapon. She glanced over at Zeng and the young brown-haired soldier who escorted her and Zeng to the weaponry. Zeng shrugged and headed out the door. "I gotta get ready... I'll be back..." The brown-haired soldier cleared his throat. "Ahem, Umm... I was told to give this to you. It's a lot easier to conceal compared to most--" "--That don't mean shit to me!!" Kytira retorted, making the soldier jump a little. "All I want is to blow that moron's head clean off his shoulders!!" 'Oh great, she's got PMS and a gun... deadly combination...' he thought. "I'm sorry," he replied. "My orders were to give you only that specific weapon." Kytira looked grimly at the gun in her hand and glanced over longingly at the rocket launcher to her right. She sighed deeply as the young soldier left the room and shook her head. "Of course..." She looked over at the rocket launcher again and sighed. She would've traded ten rocket launchers to have her revolver and sword back, but then again, the rocket launcher would have attracted too much attention as well as make her look too butch. She turned towards the exit to see Zeng unintentionally blocking it, his hands behind his back hiding something. "Zeng?" she asked. "Do you know where Argoulor is?" "Blue plate hotel." he replied, leaning against the doorway. "The most expensive hotel in Sector 3 slums. With your credit card, who wouldn't be tempted to go there?" She nodded. "I guess... but," she glanced in the mirror to her left and sighed. "How are we supposed to get in there with out starting a commotion? SOLDIERS going anywhere seem to make people uncomfortable." Zeng smiled. "That's why you'll be wearing this." From behind his back he pulled out a hanger, a French maid outfit hanging from it. Kytira's mouth dropped open in utter horror as she backed up into a shelf. "No! I am not dressing up as some stupid-ass maid! I'm a soldier, not some housekeeping floozy!" "You want your stuff back or not?" Kytira growled angrily, "No! I am not, repeat NOT, going to wear some stupid ass maid outfit...!!" *** "Are you done yet?" Zeng asked, from outside of the bathroom door. "What's taking so long?" "No!" Kytira yelled angrily. "Damn it, leave me alone!" Zeng sighed and glanced at the receptionist he saw earlier today when he first met Kytira. The brunette answered with a nod. "Let her be," she said warmly. "Don't you know? All us women take time using the bathroom. It's so we can look good for someone." "I heard that!" Kytira shouted, glancing in the mirror as she tied the apron around her waist. She then studied her image in the mirror and sighed. She had put some makeup on her face to make her seem like a stereotypical 'floozy-ass maid.' She bit her lip at her not familiar image and then made a face as she picked up the brush on the sink counter and ran it through her hair. Impatient, Zeng knocked on the door. "Do you need help or--" "--NO!" she cried, putting her hair up in a bun and taking the bobby pins she had set in her mouth, out to hold the bun in place. "Shit... go get some coffee or something, will ya?" Zeng glanced at the counter across the secretary's room where a coffee maker was set. He might as well take her suggestion into consideration. He walked over to the machine and poured himself a small amount into an empty foam cup. Bringing the cup to his lips he heard the door open and Kytira's voice, "Um... Don't laugh." He turned around and on seeing Kytira, choked on his drink. He quickly set the cup on the counter and studied her appearance. She looked different and somewhat silly in the black dress, mainly because it was a bit short and managed to display the bottom half of the garters that held up the white thigh-high stockings as well as the gun safely stored on her right garter. At the same time she had managed to create a look that was cross between conservative and cheap. Her makeup and hair gave the conservative impression while the French maid outfit screamed cheap and tackiness. Zeng brought his hand to his face in what Kytira believed was a thoughtful manner then she turned away and hid her face in her hands when she realized he was actually snickering. "I said don't laugh..." she whined timidly, her hands muffling her voice. He cleared his throat, still chuckling. "Umm, you look fine." he assured her, not too confident with his statement. "It's just that.... umm.... well, uh..." "Its just what?" she asked as she slowly moved her hands away from her face. "Well, you look.... umm.... well, uh--" "--You look more like one of those prostitutes from Wall Street market," the receptionist quipped, smiling. Kytira flushed red and turned around. "I hate you both." The young soldier from before entered the room just as Kytira turned away from Zeng. He stared at her and grinned coyly. "Whoa, kinky," he remarked before leaving the room, laughing as Kytira's face turned beet red. The receptionist forced a smile as she handed a long trench coat to Kytira. "Here. You need this more than I do." *** Time: 6:35 PM Place: Sector 3 slums, in front of the blue-plate hotel. Kytira peeked from the alleyway and glanced up at the well-known Blue-plate hotel. She turned to Zeng and smiled. "Your twin brother's got class.... For a criminal that is." Zeng ignored the comment. "Keep your mind on the mission, Kytira," he said seriously. "Okay, take off the coat." Letting off a groan, she untied the belt, undid the buttons and slipped out of the tan-colored coat that had given her a small sense of security. She shuddered, glancing down at the French maid outfit she despised so much. "Okay," Zeng started. "Go inside and head to--" "I know, I know.." Kytira rolled her eyes and waved her hand in the air. "Just let me do my job already." She walked out onto the street and Zeng immediately grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back into the dark alley. "Ow! Hey! What's your problem??" "Your eyes." "Wha..? Oh... right." She had forgotten about her mako eyes. All soldiers had that mark and it was obvious sign that told the world she was in SOLDIER. Zeng dug into the trench coat pockets and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, probably belonging to the receptionist back at headquarters. He handed them to Kytira, which she quickly accepted and slid onto her face. "There." He nodded and gestured for her to get going. Kytira scowled as she headed towards the revolving doors. *** "Late for your first day. That's not good," the tall redheaded maid snorted to Kytira in the laundry room as they folded the recently cleaned clothes. Kytira shrugged and when the redhead's back was turned, stuck her tongue out. She glanced over at the back door where Zeng said he'd wait. It had already been forty minutes of folding clothes, ten minutes more for the lecture the boss had given her for being the new girl and being late for work on the first day. Now, Kytira was waiting for the redhead to leave the room so she could let Zeng in, but now, she was tempted to gag the woman. The redhead suddenly whirled around and stared at Kytira. "Hmm... do I now you from somewhere?" Kytira shook her head slowly. "No, I don't think--" she cut herself off when she spotted the familiar looking gold heart necklace and smiled She knew this woman. It was Cindy Arnovitch. Back in Continentia boarding school, she and her little clique had always been a bitch to her younger sister, Leia, and Kytira always ended up punching Cindy in the face for it. 'So, she had her nose done....' Kytira thought, slightly amused. "What are you smiling about?" "Nothing." "Hmph!" Cindy whirled around with her nose in the air and headed towards the door. 'Whoa, deja vu..' Kytira thought drolly, grinning as she tapped Cindy on the shoulder. She whirled around, annoyed. "What do you--ahh!!" Once again, Kytira punched her, this time giving a left hook that still resounded in the infamous yet ugly sounding 'crack.' The tall redhead fell to the floor, unconscious. "You always were such a fucking stupid bitch, Cindy." Smiling, she adjusted her shades, ran over to the back door, kicked it open and poked her head out. She glanced side-to-side, "Zeng?" "I'm right here." Zeng came out of the shadows and entered the back door as Kytira opened it wider and hurriedly shut it. "What took you so--oh..." Zeng stopped himself when he regarded the knocked out redhead lying on a pile of dirty laundry and glanced over at Kytira curiously as she rolled a large service cart into plain view. [OOG: What are those damn things called?? Arghh...!] "I knew that bitch from a long time ago," she explained. "She always bothered Leia and I always ended up punching her..." Kytira sighed. "I miss those good ol' days." She emptied the cart of some of its clean laundry and patted the side. "Get in." "No." "Would you rather I go jump a bellhop for his clothes? You can dress up and then we can go have a tea party," she remarked sarcastically, smiling innocently. "Well, if you're going to put if that way..." he said, throwing the trench coat into the cart. He swung his legs over the edge and sat down, trying to make himself comfortable as possible on the pile of clean and morning-fresh scented clothes. Grinning ear-to-ear, Kytira threw a blanket over the cart and whistled a random tune as she pushed the cart towards the service elevator. "Zeng, do you know what floor?" "Ten," replied the cart. "Room 1001." *** Time: 7:55 Place: Sector 3 slums, Blue-plate hotel, Floor 10. "Are you sure it's this room?" Kytira asked the cart again, still skeptical. She hated making mistakes. It was just all too damn embarrassing. "For the twentieth time, yes." Kytira sighed and smoothed out her maid outfit. By some strange phenomenon, she had grown accustomed to it, despite the length of the skirt and the cat-calls she had gotten walking through the hotel lobby. She smiled and laughed softly. "What?" "Nothing, forget it," Kytira said pushing the cart away from the doorway of Room 1001. She took a deep breath, nervously raised her hand and knocked on the door. Seconds passed and still no answer. Kytira glared at the cart menacingly and kicked it hard. "Ow!" Zeng and Kytira both said in unison. She was in pain from the thin canvas shoes she was wearing, much more pain than Zeng. "Ow....! Grr.... you dumb-ass! I thought you said this was the room!" She folded her arms across her chest stubbornly and rolled her eyes "Well... I... maybe it's room 1003." Kytira glanced at the room across the door she was in front of and stomped across the hallway. She raised her fist and pounded on the door several times. "Open up before I kick the door!! Next'll be your ass!!" She held her anger and waited a few seconds until the door opened..... to reveal a woman in her thirties, staring at her, completely annoyed. "Oh, uh..." Kytira stammered. Embarrassed by the predicament, she turned scarlet red. "I-I... umm, uh... Housekeeping?" She smiled weakly as the woman narrowed her eyes angrily and slammed the door in Kytira's face. "I guess not..." *** [OOG: Actually, it's not that long... Hmmm... just seems long with the editing and checking, heh. Just as one of em stupid pop-up-video facts, three cans of Coke went into the making of this post! ::burps, covers her mouth and giggles:: ^_^ Ciao!] Daly -- ICQ: #18219424 AIM: DalyW7 Yahoo Pager: Da_Ly "When you get mad, don't get even. Just watch your chance and when he least expects it, hit him with a brick and steal his wallet." -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Walk in the Park! Date: Wed, 02 Sep 98 22:43:50 (PDT) From: "Threep Meister" Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" ----------------- Time: Noon/Early Afternoon Place: Sector 1 Fairgrounds ----------------- The scale of the celebration was immense. People, numbering in the thousands, wandered the fairgrounds, oohing and aahing at the spectacles that were on display. Much to Trev's disappointment, he didn't have enough time to try the rides. He reasoned that he'd better save money for food and supplies, should the need arise for AVALANCHE to pool resources. The day's mission seemed easy when you listened to Cloud explain it; in reality, it was something totally different. Trev's vision was limited to a brace of meters due to the overwhelming number of people around him. Locating any specific person in such a crowd would be nigh impossible. Hands in his pockets, Trev trudged forward with the throng of people. Somewhere off to his right, a band was playing. Using the sound as a beacon, Trev drew himself out of the crowd into a les congested walkway behind a row of vendors carts. "Ahhhhhh." Trev didn't like being around so many people. He continued down the path, being used only by a dozen or so pedestrians at that time. He concentrated on the music. Where there was a stage, there would be people. Though there were plenty on the opposite side of the vendor's carts right now, they were the essence of chaos as they moved forward in some axiomal ratrace. However, the concert's audience should bear some semblance of order. They shouldn't all be moving, any way. Who knew who he may locate there? Trev lit up a cigarette, his second in 72 hours. For him, that was borderline chainsmoking. Returning to AVALANCHE, then being assigned crowd duty, had been enough to add to his personal stress level... The last cart in the line was that of a beer vendor. Trev rounded the side of the cart to reenter the crown and ran into a figure. "'Scuse me......" Trev's voice faded. He gulped. He'd run into a Shinra guard. 'Pray he doesn't recognize me. Please don't recognize me, please....please?' Trev thought. The guard had spilled a sip of beer on his uniform. "Gods above, you think people would be more careful these days." He looked up from wiping his shirt. "Ain't you that Westscott kid?!" The guard's hand dropped to the butt of his pistol. "Ah, no!" Trev laughed merrily. "Nah, you've mistaken me for someone else. I'm not Trev Westscott. He's a terrorist." He managed not to choke on the last word. Now came the moment of truth. The guard's expression softened for a second, then grew hard. Trev nervously took a deep drag off of his cigarette and held it. "You are him! Freeze, pal! You're under arrest!" Trev exhaled the thick cloud of smoke into the guard's faceplate. "Gotta gooo!" Trev sprinted back behind the carts as the sputtering guard regained his composure and drew his pistol, charging around the line after his prey. Heads in the crowd turned as a loud THUNK emitted from behin the vendor's carts. The blue-suited guard slumped to the ground, fizzling beer dripping on his uniform. Trev weighed the six-pack of beer cans he'd used to brain the guard. Two had busted, spraying the area with fermented brew. "I like these." He admitted, eyeing the man sprawled before him. Trev pulled an undamaged beer can from the six pack and took a sip as he crouched by the guard. "You'll have to forgive me, pal." Trev said to the guard as he dragged him into an alley. "But if I don't make life hard on ya, you could make it hard on us......" ------------ When the guard woke up a quarter of an hour later, the first sensation he received was one of cold. He looked down. Boxers and socks! Boxers and socks?!? "WHERE THE HELL IS MY UNIFORM?!?" He tried to walk towards a cardboard box he saw leaned against the opposite wall. Maybe they were in there? He made an 'uik' sound as he was pulled up short, his hands cuffed to a length of solid iron piping. "WHY THE HELL AM I CUFFED?!? HEY!" No answer. The noise pollution from the crowd and concert nearby drowned out the poor man's shouts. "HEY!! HELLO?!? Anybody?" ------------- A little tight in the collar, Trev decided, but otherwise alright. The guard's uniform fit him well besides the aformentioned. He was beside the stage, looking like all the Shinra soldier he could be. He recognized the singer. Korrine Fox. She'd been in prison with AVALANCHE at one point. How ironic how she could now show her face and he could only do so behind a mask. So that was one face he knew. He checked his watch. Plenty of time left in yet another day in the life of an AVALANCHE operative. Trev grinned. He could almost hear the guard crying. ------------- [OOG: There's your humor post for today! .....Why is it AVALANCHE members post so little? *sniffle*] ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: A sad departure Date: Wed, 02 Sep 98 22:43:50 (PDT) From: Jonathan Kelly Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" (OOG: Well, my comp's been dead for a long time, and I just got it back. But the time away made me decide something you may not like...here it is, " A sad departure") Synth entered the festival and immediately looked for games of marksmanship and bullet makers. He found both. One bullet designer interested him. He used to be in the bomb squad, and was now making bullets out of bomb material. Synth bought two C4 bullets. He wandered around for a while, and at about noon, he was noticed. A couple of Shinra SOLDIERS were there, they recognised the convict, and did something about it. They snuck up behind him, knocked him out, and took him to Shinra HQ. ***** Karin Deathwing rose from the dust, and made her way to the festival. She knew she had to get back home soon. She needed to find something fast. At the festival, she saw five guy's from Shinra. She asked if Shinra could help her locate something of value. They told her they definately could. Karin made up her mind, she would join the Shinra. ***** Synth Blazefire was in a prison cell, starving for 3 days. Finally, 5 1st Class SOLDIER's, and 7 guards showed up, lead by the Head of Weapons Development herself, Scarlet. Scarlet laughed. " So, first a wanna-be Turk, now in jail for opposing Shinra. Reno wouldn't be happy with you, neither would President Shinra. But who cares. You're dying here and now. And, honorably, by your own gun, of my design. Any last words?" Synth was about to spit on her, but then he realized that he still had the C4 bullets in his gun. " I've wanted to get rid of you for a long, long time, you rotten bitch." Scarlet just laughed some more. " Blow his head off on 3," she issued to a guard. " 1!" Just a bit longer... " 2!" Almost... " 3!" Just as the guard pulled the trigger, Synth rushed up and stuck his fingers in the two barrels that had the C4 in it. Fallen Angel backfired. The explosion that took place would have fried a Dragon to a crisp. This one only fried 5 SOLDIERs, 7 guards, Synth, and Scarlet. (OOG: I have announced my resignment. I thought it was a flashy way for Synth to go out. Karin may fight against some of you someday. Kinda funny if she went up against Matrim, Chello, and/or Ethan. Rasten can continue as he was, just as an NPC. I'd like it if you'd e-mail me sometime, telling me where Rasten has gone. This was a tough decision, and I'm sorry to say good-bye to you all, even those I never knew. But I think this is for the better. Good-bye to you all.) Chill, the final farewell, Jackson Baine == "Know the path to win the battle," - Scholar Daravon, author of the awesomest Mediator skill, Mimic Daravon. _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free a yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Trip Date: Wed, 02 Sep 98 22:43:50 (PDT) From: kkwan a globalserve.net Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" Trip ~~~~ Sector One, Midgar Festival. Afternoon, July 9th, 2000. `` Rude and Lars were browsing through stalls casually, more to intimidate potential shoplifters than to actually buy something. They stopped by everything from places selling women's underwear to stalls that tested hand-eye coordination. It was after Korrine Fox had played her music, and after Tseng and Elena met up with Rude and Lars. Rude had been bored during the entire concert; his music lay more with alternative and hardcore rather than the soft pop rock songs that Korrine sang. In addition, the crowd was surprisingly gentle, and therefore left no fights to split up or horny boys to intimidate. Lars looked about a stall, hand in one of the pockets of his navy blue trousers. Even though they appeared casual, the Turks were an unapproachable presence and that usually left the shopkeepers that they hung around businessless for the few minutes that they were around. "Hey, Rude, check this out," Lars said, reaching for an ornate watch that caught his eye. He looked at the shopkeeper for permission, then lifted it out of its display case. "How does this..." As Lars turned, his extended elbow caught on the tentpole that supported the tarp overtop the tables displaying the merchant's wares. The bar fell to one side, bringing the tent, the attached sign, and part of one table down along with it. There was no dramatic clash, but there was certainly a lot of clattering jewelry and swearing from the shopkeeper, who happened to be under the awning at the time of the accident. "Damn," Lars said, looking at his inadvertant "destruction". Rude pressed his shades closer to his eyes, trying to hide the combination of amusement and embarassment that threatened to cross his features. From under the tarp, the shopkeeper began cursing and swearing. "Who the hell toppled over my freaking shop? They're going to pay, asshole!" Rude lifted an arm and pointed at Lars. Lars' mouth dropped wide open. "He did it," Rude said casually, his voice almost daring the shopkeeper to take action. The man's mouth fluttered about, acting as if he were going to say something, then it shut abruptly. He grumbled and picked up the metal bars that held the tarp up. Rude suppressed a chuckle as he motioned for Lars to put the watch away. It was the third stand today that Lars had managed to tip over. "You're walking trouble," Rude said as he pulled the other Turk unceromoniously from the street vendors. "I should call you that instead of Eagle Eye." Lars could only shrug. "Sorry, I mean, things happen." "No shit," Rude replied. "It's a damn good thing you're a Turk or else you'd owe big time." Lars gave Rude a lopsided grin. "Maybe that's just why I am a Turk." Rude shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "People wonder why I drink," he said, loud enough for Lars to hear. "YOU drink?" Lars exclaimed. "No wonder /I/ drink!" Rude let loose his laughter and slapped Lars on the back, a slap that threatened to tip the smaller man over. Lars looked up toward one of the benches. Although they were built in the style of a park bench, he refused to call them park benches for the reason that there were no parks in Midgar. On it sat a girl that he immediately recognized. Occasionally, adolescent boys and teenage girls would walk up to her and exchange a few words, but most of the time, she sat alone. "Korrine," Lars heard himself saying. The girl looked up and a smile formed on her face. "Lars!" As the Turk approached, he saw that her eyes were red and her cheeks puffy from what appeared to be prolonged crying. Lars nodded. "What are you doing here, I would have thought you had someone to cruise Midgar with. By the way, this is Rude. He's my partner. Rude, this is Korrine." The girl looked up at the big man. Everyone knew Rude of the Turks. He did not return a smile, but kept his tall, staunt pose. "Korrine, it looks like you've been crying," Lars said, immediately going to what made him notice her. "What the heck happened?" -- -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: A Day At The Fair Date: Wed, 02 Sep 98 22:43:50 (PDT) From: "Neal Moss" Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" Time: Noon Place: Sector Five Music: Gold Saucer-y (sorta remixed) Jairen pulled Tifa closer, as the couple walked through the bustling street. People were all around, laughing, talking, and for once ignoring the fact that their lives were dismal. The Festival seemed to bring out the good in people. It also brought out the bad in some. The increase in population had brought nearly every thug, thief, and crook out of the shadows, and they were everywhere. In one minute, Jairen was sure he'd heard at least five cries of 'Thief!' and at least two gunshots from alleyways. The city was still bad, and it wasn't getting better any time soon. Regardless of the troubles the city had, they were here to find new recruits, as well as try to relax. They'd split up their group, sending Knighthawk to Sector Four and Lauren to Sector Six. The idea was that they could cover more area split up, rather than as a group. Hopefully, it would gain them more allies. Maybe then, they could worry about the city's problems... "So," Jairen remarked, squeezing Tifa's hand lightly, "what would you like to do?" "Hmm," Tifa pondered, looking around at the various booths that lined the street, "how about...something to eat?" "Okay," Jairen grinned. "How about something exotic?" "Like what?" "We could try some of the Wutai dishes." "Nah, too spicy. How about Mideel Chocobo Wings? I hear they're really meaty." "They don't use enough basil in their marinade. Junon salmon with garlic sauce?" "Eww, garlic?" Just then, a vendor came down the street, pushing a cart. "HOT DOGS!" the man yelled into the crowd. "GET YER HOT DOGS HERE!" "Hot dogs?" They turned to look at each other. They were both grinning. ---------- "I must say," Jairen remarked, wiping some mustard from his lip, "I've never seen anyone eat four hot dogs in one meal, not including the two sodas, three ice cream bars, and the cotton candy. Which you still haven't finished. I'm surprised you ate everything before it." Tifa grinned evilly, shoving the candy fluff into his face with a laugh. Jairen retaliated quickly, pulling her tightly against his chest, causing her to squeak. "Oh, you're surprised?" she asked as she tried to squirm out of the bear hug he had her in, her face strained with determination. "What about? Surprised I'm not fat?" "No," Jairen smiled at her. "Just...surprised." "That I'm not fat." "You're not fat, Tif. You're just the way I like you." "How's that?" "Uh...plump. Perfectly plump." She giggled at his comment, gazed up into his yellow eyes. "I love you. You're a jerk, sometimes, but I love you." "I love you more." "I love you more than that." "I like you." *grin* "Would you let go of me now?" "Tifa, I don't ever want to let you go..." Jairen gently lifted her off the ground, pulling her closer. Tifa responded by pulling her arms out from under his, and wrapping them around his neck. Their lips met, and the kiss was filled with desire; lasted briefly, if not for an eternity... He loosened his grip around her waist, lowering her back to the ground. "So, where should we go from here?" he asked. "I think we should look around," Tifa replied, "and just learn what we can. Maybe someone who hates Shinra will recognize us, and approach us. Or, we could listen around, and approach anyone who looks like they'd make a good AVALANCHE member. There's a lot of things we can do." "Let's just walk around," Jairen said, "And see what happens. Maybe one of those things will happen." "Sounds fine with me. Let's go." "Yes, ma'am," Jairen mock saluted, which earned him a dirty look from Tifa, followed by a grin. It was good to see her smiling. He'd always liked her smile. Taking her hand, the young couple walked further into Sector 5, unaware of the encounter they were about to make... ---------- OOG: I strongly suggest to anyone in Sector 5 who wants to join AVALANCHE that they act now (*hack* *cough* *Matrim* *cough*). I've left the door wide open. Also, if your in one of the other sector's I've been left to cover, meet up with the NPC that's in the area, and have them PHS Tifa, or something. There, that should do it... QSX ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Old Acquaintances Date: Thu, 03 Sep 98 11:07:42 (PDT) From: henrym a yesic.com Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" (OOG: Well, my turn to post again, eh?) Place: Sector 1 Time: 12:15 PM -- Matrim scratched the back of his head. "So where are we gonna start looking?" Adam shrugged in reply. "I have no idea. Maybe some members of AVALANCHE will be looking for recruits or something?" "Maybe. But I wouldn't count on it. They minght completely avoid the festival, you know." Adam nodded. "Yeah, but the only way we're going to find out is if we look." "But where do we start?" Natalie cut in. * * * * * Place: Sector 5 Time: 12:50 PM And now the 3 were seated on a bench near Sector 6, wondering where to go. "I say we keep going." Adam argued. "They could be just up ahead." Matrim wasn't paying attention, however. "Hey," he mumbled, pointing to a girl wearing a miniskirt whi was walking arm in arm with a man. "That girl looks familiar." "Huh?" Adam stopped. "Matrim, this is no time for girl watching. And she has a guy with her." "I said she looks familiar... I know her, Adam." "Who is she, then?" ".... She's in AVALANCHE, I think." Adam and Natalie excahnged glances. "Then we'd better meet her." -- (OOG: Okay, whoever can take it from here. Sorry it was short, but I'm in a hurry.) -- ____________________________________________________________________________________ 17 seconds of compassion 17 seconds of peace 17 seconds of faith 17 seconds of radiance 17 seconds is all you really need -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Ethan's Journey Date: Thu, 03 Sep 98 21:30:54 (PDT) From: mwaterfield a sprint.ca Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" Place: outside Midgar Ethan slowly trudged across the windswept landscape that seemed to stretch on infinitely. Checking the position of the sun, the man guessed it was about late evening. The massive red ball was slowly beginning to diminish behind the huge, frowning mountains, casting a crimson glow across the land. As tired as he was, Ethan pushed himself onward, trying to get as far as possible before total darkness. The thick, bulky armor groaned in protest as he struggled on, fighting to keep himself awake. After a while, Ethan decided he would be no good walking half asleep, and he finally gave in. Sitting himself down behind a cluster of boulders, he set his carry-on's aside and leaned back breathing a sigh of relief. He had been walking almost non stop for a day and a half. He ate sparingly, and only stopped for a few brief minutes to rest. His relentless endeavors were catching up with him, and he now faced utter exhaustion. His mind was cluttered with thoughts about all sort of things: getting home again, Midgar, Chello, and a good number of others. He tried desperately to sort them out and put them away. His attempt to clear his mind resulted in nothing but failure, as his thoughts eluded his mental grasp and ran amuck inside his head. Ethan was far too tired to care, anyway. Sleep was pulling his eyelids down and he kept narrowly escaping the occasional urge to doze off. Shifting around in his hard armor, he found a remotely comfortable position, and settled back, shielded arms folded across his chestplate. He let his head hang down, and awaited his tiredness to take over. Feeling his body slip away, his mind began to float on nothingness, and Ethan succumbed to slumber. ________________________________________ The next morning was brought in with the roaring of gas engines in the distance. Ethan awoke slowly from his deep sleep, and blinked in the harsh morning light. With great difficulty, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a metallic finger, and he stiffly rose from his position. Ethan growled as his taught muscles slowly eased themselves back into place. Much to his disgust, his thoughts had not left him during the night, but rather hung around until he woke. The mental bombardment provided great difficulty in performing actions, as he soon found out. Gathering his belongings, his ears slowly picked up the sound of motors coming from somewhere far off. Surprised, he looked around, trying to identify the source. Nothing could be seen yet, but Ethan got a vague impression of where it was coming from. Hoping he would find what he thought the noise would be, he headed quickly in the direction of the noise. ____________________________________________ Hand over his eyes to shield out the sun, Ethan stood atop a rocky ridge in the chill morning air. His eyes were narrowed, focused on an object on the far reaches of sight. Several dark shapes were moving rapidly across the field below, leaving a large cloud of kicked up dirt in their wake. They were converging on the his position, and they seemed to be traveling in a dispersed formation, typical of a scouting force. Ethan noted these characteristics, and he thought hard about what these things were and what he should do about this situation. He could go down to meet them, but there was the possibility that these things would be dangerous. He could always fend them off, but he was as of yet unsure of their numbers. If he was outnumbered, he would be in serious trouble. His armor would eventually fall to a relentless assault. But then there was the possibility that these were not enemies. Even if they were, how would he benefit from them? They were probably heading for Midgar anyway, Ethan figured. His options analyzed, he found himself with little choice but to stay put and see if he could identify them. As the objects moved closer, Ethan saw that they were vehicles of sorts. They almost had the appearance of motorbikes, like the one he used. Looking closer, he confirmed his observation. A feeling of hope was beginning to arise within the man. These could possibly be people from his home island. Being careful not to get his hopes too high, Ethan looked on. Closer observation brought the appearance of several armored figures mounted upon the machines. They had the same red color as his own suit, although their design was slightly varied. The familiar appearance of their armor sparked an encouraging thought in his mind. A feeling of thanks and relief washed over Ethan as he began to climb down the rocks to meet the bikes below. These people were from the Observers, a bike-mounted division specially assigned the task of recovering lost or missing scouts. Ethan had seen their troops being recruited, their equipment prepared; but he had never thought they would be in service so soon. Happiness was all Ethan felt right now as he descended the crags. He would finally get to complete his task. _____________________________________ The bikes revved their engines and circled around, heading back from where they came. Ethan departed with a brief wave, then began running as fast as possible in the direction of Midgar. He was no longer wearing his armor, nor did he have many of the things he had started out with. All he had with him was his sketching material and his rations. His friends were now taking his discarded belongings back to the colony. Ethan was now free to return to the city. Filled with excitement, he raced onward, eager to get back to the place which he had called home for the past two months. Putting aside the thoughts of what to do once he arrived, he concentrated on making good time. Freed of his encumbering armor, he could now move faster and farther in the same space of time. He could make it a good deal of the way back before nightfall. Setting this as his number one priority, he continued running. He had only been away for a short space of time, but to him, it felt like a good few weeks. Now, he was finally returning to Midgar. (OOG: Well, there you have it. Due to popular demand {and Ben's relentless bitching}, Ethan is returning. I'll choose when he arrives, which won't be for a little while still. I thought I might as well get him underway. Are you happy now, Chello?) ________________________________ The Q Branch http://w3.to/qbranch/ "I don't hallucinate, I just see things that aren't really there." -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Favours. Date: Thu, 03 Sep 98 21:30:56 (PDT) From: "Anastasius Dumar" Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" {OOG: Language.} July 9th Early Evening Ulysses's Home He felt the tired gust of air escape his mouth more than he heard it in his ears. Smelling of pork and beans, the stale, somewhat foul breath was stifled slightly as he lifted his hand to his mouth out of habit to cover his mouth. The dimly lit room was illuminated only by six potlights and a dancing, flickering light that sputtered and choked like a dying candle. He sat in front of his small, ancient television, an open can of pork and beans resting comfortably upon his left knee and a slightly tarnished fork in his left hand. Two men rushed across the screen in pursuit of a kid in his late teens clad in only a pair of faded blue jeans. There was heavy, laboured breathing that muffled the excited cries of the two older men, both clad in tan coloured shirts and dark slacks, though it was difficult to tell whether the heavy breathing stemmed from the two large men or the cammera man, who was barely keeping pace, bobbing and jerking from side to side. The chase went on for a surprisingly long time, through several people's yards and over several fences no more than three feet high. It ended, of course, with the two larger men tackling the topless kid and wrestling him to the ground with the help of several nudges from the nightsticks each carried with him. As one of the large, overweight men led the young man in handcuffs into a small, beat-up car labelled only as "D", the other paused, large drops of sweat running down his loose, flabby face, to prop himself up against a lamp-post before speaking. Between gasps and wheezes, the large man managed to sputter out a few lines to wrap up the scene, "Yeah... tough little guy, but... they always are. Almost lost 'im... back there on those... picket fences... but it turned out... all right in the end." Ulysses shook his head, the long, stark white hair swinging limply away from his movements and found himself shoveling in another spoon-full of rapidly cooling beans. Hand tapping the mouldering surface of the couch several times before returning victorious with a small remote grasped tightly in it, he absently found the channels dancing before his single eye, staggered perhaps a second between each station. A glittering face of a golf club caught his attention for a moment, and with a somewhat cynically amused smile twisting his face, he watched and listened as several pros talked about how the club's diamond covered face gave optimum spin and bite, allowing week-end golfers the ability to golf with confidence. After watching an eighteen handicapper shave three strokes off of his game, Ulysses changed the channel, another mouthful of beans disappearing as he did so. "Incredible." he muttered to himself, something of a habit formed from living his mostly withdrawn life. He made the mistake of peering down as he scraped the dregs of the beans from the can, the steaming entrails promising something that just could not be thought of as something eddible, and felt his stomach swiftly knot up, destroying any further thoughts of food. Removing the fork, he glanced over his shoulder, and hurled the can into a small tin garbage can, his actions followed by a dull "ping". It was not past six, a half hour after eating his quick dinner of pork and beans, when heartburn struck him, as he knew it would. Pork and beans, fast food, just about every kind of food he knew of with the exception of oatmeal gave him some kind of heartburn. Thumping his chest several times, he walked slowly to the bathroom, coughing repeatedly in long, violent bursts. Hitting the lights and stepping onto the chill tile floor, the bottle of Malox sitting on the counter was quickly turned up as several mouthfuls of the stuff ran into his stomach. A gust of air escaping his mouth with relief, Ulysses set the cap on the bottle and replaced it next to his razor on the sink. Imagining he could feel the milky liquid churning in his stomach, he stepped from the bathroom to be greeted with a loud, urgent series of high-decible beeps. "Who the fuck is that?" he questioned himself, not hurrying his pace despite the insistant ringing of his cordless phone. He wondered for a moment, as he arrived at the phone, if it would stop ringing just as he arrived within reach. His hand h esitated for a moment over the phone to see if it would do just that before picking it up as it whined like some spoiled child again. "Hello." he said, his voice flat and not completely without some irritation. "Forge, that you?" The voice sounded familiar, and Ulysses got the feeling that he should have been able to place it right away. "Yeah. Who's this?" "Gideon. Gideon Makenzie." "Why the fuck are you calling me? I told you before I only deal face-to-face." "Actually, I have a small favour I'd like to ask of you." Ulysses snorted before speaking, disgust flavoring his voice. "I don't do favors." If Gideon was taken back by the abrupt answer, it certainly didn't keep him from continuing and the voice coming through the receiver certainly didn't sound any less confident than before. "I was wondering if you'd care to look after my kids for a couple of hours tonight while me and my wife go out for dinner..." "Hey? You're going to have to say that again, man. I don't think I got it the first time." "I want to know if you'd look after my kids for a couple of hours while me and my wife go out." A short, harsh bark of laughter escaped from Ulysses's throat before he could completely contain it. When he spoke, he knew his voice posessed some disbelief to it, but he doubted he could have helped it anyways. "Now... now I think maybe I might have made a mistake here. When I talked to you this morning, did-did I give you a card that said 'Ulysses La'Tor: Weapons manufacture and daycare.'?" "Beg your pardon?" "I asked if I gave you a fucking card that said 'Ulysses La'Tor: Weapons manufacture and daycare?'" "No." Gideon's voice emerged hesitant, perhaps he thought he had erred somewhere. "You know why that is? That's 'cause I ain't a fucking granny, and I'm just wondering where you got that fucking wacky-ass idea that I'd look after your damned kids." There was a silence for a moment, and Gideon then spoke again. "I'll pay three thousand gil for the night." Pause. "How-how much did you say?" "Three thousand gil." A longer pause. "Shit, man. I dunno how you manage to stay in business, thinking the way you do. But only President Rufus could say no to fucking three thousand gil to babysit. I just got one question: Why the fuck can't you get some nice, pimply faced teenage girl to come over and babysit, and why the fuck are you willing to pay three thousand fucking gil for me, little more than an acquaintnce, to look after your kids?" Ulysses felt he could almost hear Gideon shrug over the phone, and imagined his wife walking by, giving him a curious look as he shrugged and gestured into the phone. The thought brought a slight, sardonic smile to his face as Gideon spoke. "This is important. I've contacted everyone in my fucking book, and they're either all busy or answer the same as you. The neighbors are out on vacation, and I can't back out now." Ulysses felt a smirk draw his lips to a thin line and he wondered if it was as apparent as Gideon's shrug. "How long you been sleeping on the couch, lover boy?" "Shut the fuck up. Adria's been in some kind of depression for the last couple of years, since we had our second kid. She's been seeing a shrink and that shit, but she hasn't been doing her womanly duty, if you know-" "I don't want to know, motherfucker." "-Anyways, she's been getting a lot better recently; spending a lot of time with the kids and all that, way more than she used to. Tonight she said she hadn't felt so good in a long time, and I figured 'What the fuck? Might as-'" Ulysses cut in, tactless and abrupt, as was his norm. "Yeah, good, good. Okay. Three thousand gil? I guess you got a deal. I still say you're fucked up, though. I'd never let my kid be babysat by some motherfucker who I saw maybe twice every year." "You got a kid?" Gideon seemed surprised, and Ulysses closed his eyes, mentally kicking himself for spurting out like that. Ulysses frowned, and continued, as though the question had not been asked. "You want me to come up right now? It'll take a good forty minutes to catch the train and shit." Gideon didn't press the issue, and . "Sure. I'll have a man of mine waiting at the station with some transportation to get you here. It's quarter-after-six now, so you better be here by ten after seven." Ulysses was about to respond, but found himself nearly retorting to a blank line. "Damned bastard..." Deciding that, if he was going to babysit, he needed a slight change of dress, Ulysses pulled a plain, relatively clean t-shirt from the drawer, and slipped it on over his head after tossing his technician's coat over the back of the couch. He fished from the coat sixty gil and a small remote that would seal his shop shut. The handful of money and remote were deposited into his pockets, and he picked up his cane aas he headed for the sharply angled flight of stairs that led up into his shop, slipping on his worn, old shoes as he did so. Moving up the ominously creaking stairs, Ulysses opened the small hatch at the top, and pulled the small breaker to his right, up against the wall. Thick, inky blackness enveloped him, and the details of his home were lost to his single eye. Stepping up into the back room of his shop, where he held the more lethal, questionable weapons in his store, he closed the hatch behind him, and moved by memory to the small, dimly glowing panel by the sliding, reinforced door. He felt several objects brush against his legs as he did so, and he wondered just how close he had come to toppling some priceless equipment. Quickly keying the set of three numbers into the small panel, he stepped through the open portal and into the main area of his store, named "The Forge" by himself. The great, greasy wooden desk that served as both a shop and business interface whined slightly as he pulled from it a small drawer, plucking from the soft foam a milky, pale orb with rings of brown tinged with green surrounding a black circle in the center. A small piece of glass his guide, he carefully placed the glass orb into the ruined remains of his right eye, making sure the "pupil" was proprelly aligned. Nodding to himself, he closed the drawer, and stepped from behind his desk. A single lever hung in an upright position to the left of the heavy steel door that led into the slums. Bringing his hand to bare, he forced it down and was rewarded with the door sliding open, accomponied by a loud shriek of protest. Not three paces from the two gaping, identical doors, he reached into the pocket of his coat, and pressed a single, small button. He didn't bother looking behind him as a slightly staggered pair of "thunk"s emerged from his store. It was suprisingly quiet this night, something that made Ulysses feel strangely uneasy. The slums were never quiet, always filled with seductive cries and loud music and gunshots. One got used to it after a while. Ulysses wondered if it were some kind of wierd omen, thoughts of apocolypse and disaster running through his mind. Tightening the grip he held on his cane, he continued down through the twisting, completely random street, small clouds of sterile grey dust rising from his heels. The memory of the train station still sharp in his mind, it did not take him half as long to reach the filthy, litter-strewn terminal as it had in the morning, and he managed to glipse the time as he lay the sixty gil down for his two-way ticket. Just over a half hour since Makenzie had called. He was going to be pretty damned late, he chided himself, but he was the one doing the favor, he then reasoned, and was calling the shots. The train too, was remarkably empty, with a thin, timid woman studying a magazine with an intent that Ulysses found spooky his only companion. He sat down on the thin, uncomfortable seats this time, spread his legs, and leaned his head against the back of the seats as the lights flashed by. The quickly flashing lights gave the optical illusion of great speed, and Ulysses, despite the relatively late hour, caught himself nearly nodding off a trio of times as the trip seemed to drag on far longer than could have been possible. When the train grinded to a halt and Ulysses pushed himself up from the harsh seat, fighting the desire to sleep at every moment, he stepped out into the bright, pristine, and perfect upper plate. He had not finshed his simple scan of the area when a well groomed, well dressed man approached, wearing a pair of dark sun glasses. 'Shit, right out of the movies.' Was the first and lasting impression that the young man gave him. "Ulysses La'Tor?" the groomed young man asked. "Yeah. Sorry I'm late. Train's a bitch." "Indeed. If you come this way, I shall escort you to Mr. Makenzie's home." The young man gestured towards a small, yet elegent car and began walking towards it, obviously expecting Ulysses to follow. Ulysses grunted, and complied, sliding into the plush upholstry through the door the young man held open. "If you will fasten your seatbelt, sir, we shall be off." Ulysses blinked for a moment, and then fumbled for the belt and the buckle, eyes wide with comprehension. It had been nearly five years since he had last been in an automobile, and such things eluded him. The trip, though not nearly as long as that of the train, still pressed a comforting blanket of unconciousness upon Ulysses that he struggled to fend off. He was near slapping himself awake when they pulled into a small, paved lot that Ulysses assumed to be the home of Gideon. The young man opened the door, and Ulysses stepped from the car. "Fuck. Makenzie lives here?" he swore, under his breath as not to incite a response from the chaufer. There was a marked, yet subtle difference between the house he stood in front of and the houses that surrounded it. The size alone was not really so much different, but it was the elegant spires that supported the small balcony, the gargoyles that sat along the edge of the roof and the white, flawless pair of lions that stood at by the front door that added a feel of wealth that the other houses, beautiful as they were, lacked. The simple white paint with the charcoal trim added to this elegance, making the house subtley stand out from the off-white and cream coloured homes that surrounded it. There were, of course, no plants anywhere around the house, though the cement yard had been painted a thick, lush green and seemed to have been textured to mimic as closely as possible the feel of sharp, fresh cut grass. "Incredible. To think I was charging such modest fees." Ulysses shook his head, long white hair swinging limply from side to side, and could not help but somehow feel shafted with this new revelation. He had not been aware that he was openly gawking until a polite cough from the well groomed young man startled him enough to make his tight grip on his steel cane fumble. Feeling slightly low-class, he grumbled something to himself that he hoped passed as an excuse, and hurried towards the door. The young man nodded, and left down the walkway, towards the car. "Mr. Makenzie will contact me when you are need of an escort back to the station, so do not feel any apprehension about transport, Sir." Ulysses turned slightly, and nodded as the young man entered the car and pulled away from the house. Bringing a long, boney finger to rest on the doorbell, Ulysses hesitated a moment to clear his throat before pressing the button, receiving a loud, slightly irritating buzzer for his troubles. The small panel in the wall where the bell was looked to be something of an intercom, and Ulysses's suspicions were confirmed when a slightly muffled voice emerged through a thin layer of static. "Ulysses?" A small beep signalled Ulysses was to respond, and he did so, holding down the button beside the buzzer and leaning close to the speaker. "Yeah. Sorry I'm late..." His died off as he saw, up and to his left, a small camera watching his movements. Figuring he must have looked like quite the asshole, Ulysses smiled broadly, and flipped the camera the bird. The speaker came on again, and behind Gideon's words was a small amount of giggling. "Congratulations, Forge," Gideon began, voice dry, "You've succeeded in both disgusting my wife and making yourself an idol to my kids with one gesture. Come in." Before Ulysses could either respond or apologize, the door opened with a small hiss, and Ulysses was greeted with a gust of warm air, perfumed with an odd mix of vanilla and Kraft Dinner. He stepped inside before the door could close, and was removing his shoes when Gideon arrived at the top of the short flight of stairs leading to the upper floor, decked out in a smart-looking tuxedo and bowtie, hair slicked back. Placing his shoes in a neat corner to one side of the door, Ulysses nodded a greeting to Gideon, who promptly returned the gesture and beaconed him upstairs. "Chloe! Abraham! Get over here and meet your sitter for the night." Gideon barked, and his voice was followed almost immediately by two sets of repeating thumps on the floor as his kids rushed to his side, and stood in line, looking up at Ulysses with what he uncomfortably found a great deal of expectation. "Now," began Gideon, looking sternly down at his two children, "This is Mr. La'Tor-" "-Ulysses." Ulysses was always quick to interupt, and now was no exception. "-Ulysses." Gideon continued, looking somewhat annoyed at the undermining of his authority, "Now, daddy has asked for a very big favor tonight, because Ulysses doesn't babysit. Now, I want you two to be on your best behavior, and if Ulysses has anything that's bad to report when your mother and I get back, you're both going to be in trouble. Big trouble." Both children, aged about four and five by Ulysses's guess, looked suitably impressed by this threat, and nodded enthusiasticly in response. "Adria! Come on, babe! Reservations are for eight!" Ulysses waited patiently for the family matters to end, feeling very much like the stranger he was in this house and around this family. Gideon's wife emerged from their room perhaps five minutes later, dressed in a, elegant, tight dress that was incredibly flattering as it hugged her slender waist and ample breasts, yet completely modest, as the only flesh exposed to the air were here hands and the upper part of her neck and head. Her hair was worn in a tight, simple braid that reached her back. Makeup had obviously been carefully applied, but that fact made her all the more beautiful. Ulysses looked in her direction, and acknowladged that Gideon was a lucky man, but felt no feelings of arousal. Had his wife been dressed in such a way, he would have doubtlessly felt himself flush, his heart beat faster. But his wife had been dead for nearly five years, and that part of himself, he was sure, had died with her. "Mr. La'tor-" "Ulysses." He interupted again, with a slight nod that tapered into a small bow. "-Ulysses, then. It is a pleasure to meet you for the second time... though I should hope," she added, a slightly amused smile on her pretty face, "that you are not entirely fond of obscene gestures. That single one will likely be remembered around here for a long time." Ulysses had the grace to look embaressed, and folded his hands, holding his cane, behind his back. "I would like to appologize for my actions. I was not aware that there was anyone watching at the time." Obviously impatient not to miss dinner, Gideon interupted, taking his wife's hand and fairly dragging her down the stairs. "The number of the restraunt we'll be at is in the kitchen. The kids have eaten, and will probably be ready for bed around eight. We'll be back around midnight, though we may be later." Ulysses nodded. "Have fun." When Gideon and Adria had left, Ulysses turned, and squatted down to come nearly face-to-face with the two children before him. "So," he began, thinking quickly. It had been a long, long time since he had been around children, and suddenly being thrust into direct interaction with them was forcing him to think in ways he hadn't for a long while. "You're Chloe," he pointed to the little girl, dressed in a pink shirt and a pair of overalls, who nodded, "and you're Abraham." Again, he pointed to the younger boy, who nodded shyly and seemed to be considering fleeing behind his older, more confident sister. "Mister," Chloe began, "You've got a big owie right there." She almost candidly pointed to the long, winding scar that ran across Ulysses's face. "I had an owie once. I fell outside, and cut my knee." She patted the joint for emphasis. "Mommy had to put a big bandaid on it and kissed it and made it better." She nodded, as if she had taught her mother everything she knew. "Really?" Ulysses tried his best to make himself sound intrigued, as he remembered doing with his own son. "It must have hurt a lot." Chloe nodded eagerly. "But it got better, and I never got an owie since." "What about you, Abraham? Have you ever got an owie before?" It was simple, unimportant and mentally sterilizing talk, but Ulysses knew enough to know that the icebreakers were important for kids to open up. Abraham nodded shyly, and hesitated a moment before speaking, "A long time ago I tripped and fell and hit right here, " he pointed to his chin, where a small pink scar was etched into his cherubic flesh. "And I had to get three," he held up two stubby fingers, " stitches and it's better now." Ulysses nodded. "What do you guys want to do? Watch T.V. or something?" Both nodded eagerly, and a quick race to the small remote sitting on the plush leather couch ensued. After a second-long skirmish between the two kids, Chloe managed to wrestle it away, to the outrage of Abraham, who sat back on the couch and sulked. Ulysses was greeted by the happy, encouraging voice of a big purple dinosaur surrounded by half a dozen children. He didn't ask what it was, but quickly decided that children's programming had fallen into a slump in the last five years. Ulysses didn't remember his own kid being so easy, as both Chloe and Abraham were perfectly content to sit and watch the endless hours of children's television until both began to slump from exhaustion. After putting them to bed, Ulysses himself began to feel fatigue soothing him to sleep, aided by the soft cusions. Ulysses awoke with a violent start, sucking in a gust of air and leaping from his seat. There was a pair of small "clicks", and he found himself disheveled, confused and standing with a nine-foot long spear in his hand where his cane had once been. Looking over at the clock, Ulysses was startled to discover that nearly four hours had drifted by while he slept. It was nearly midnight, and when the buzzer rang again, he realized what had awoken him in the first place. Looking at the spear in his hand, he swore under his breath, and tossed it to the floor, hurrying towards the door. He opened the door, though he would not note until later that it was reinforced at the back and probably bullett-proof. Two men stood at the doorway, both looking very professional in suits and ties. Neither wore eyeware they wore trenchcoats, of black and grey, respectively. "Hello," the man in the black trenchcoat began, "We were wondering if Mr. Makenzie is at home. May we come in?" Shrugging, Ulysses stood aside, and extended an arm, gestured for them to do so. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" "We are business associates of Mr. Makenzie's, and if he is not home, we would like to leave a message for him. I have it right here." Greycoat reached into his trenchcoat, shuffled around for a moment, and then removed what Ulysses placed as a ten-gauge shotgun, sawed off nearly as far as one could do. Blackcoat followed, drawing a long, elegantly curved sword from his coat. "What the fuck is this?" Ulysses asked, raising his hands in the air as he was prodded with the buttstock of Greycoat's shotgun. "Mr. Makenzie is responsible for withholding a large amount of gil from our employer, a partner of his. You may tell him that our employer considers the partnership no longer valid, and expects his money to be returned double." Greycoat informed him, and then sharply jerked his shotgun back, and then across Ulysses's face. *** "-motherfucker! Forge, you fucking son of a bitch! Get up, or I'm going to make your fucking head look like piece of fucking shit!" Ulysses opened his eyes in time to receive a stinging blow to the face. He lay crumpled at the foot of the door, being shaken and beaten repeatedly by what looked to be a frantic Gideon. In the distance somewhere, there was the sound of frantic weeping, and Ulysses wasn't sure if it was Adria or one of the kids. He managed to place a hand between his face and an incoming blow from Gideon's fists, something he was grateful for as the impact jarred his hand and snapped him out of his thick-headedness. He quickly sat forewards, throwing Gideon off of him and standing up. He felt a tightness in his gut, and realized he was close to going completely, as he like to call it, apeshit. "What the _fuck_ is going on?" he shouted, throwing the smaller man to the floor again as he was attacked with a low tackle. "You tell me, you motherfucker! What the fuck did you do with my kids?" Gideon shouted back, no longer attacking, but the wild look in his eyes gave Ulysses incentive not to let his guard down. "I didn't do anything with your fucking kids! Two guys showed up, said you had cheated their fucking boss, and kicked my ass!" "Bullshit!" Gideon cried, and rushed Ulysses again, carrying him back against a wall and knocking the wind from the older man's chest. Ulysses backhanded Gideon away, gasping for breath, and managed to force words from his throat. "They said you were stealing from a partner of yours, and that he expected to be returned in double. One of them had a fucking shotgun and the other had a fucking sword as long as my fucking arm. What did you expect me to do?" He grabbed Gideon again, and hurled him into the opposite wall. Gideon groaned, and stumbled slightly, falling to the floor. "Fuck. He wasn't supposed to do this. He wasn't supposed to do this." Gideon looked up from the floor at Ulysses, the rage gone from his voice and face. "How much, Forge?" Ulysses didn't let his guard down as he answered, "Huh?" "How much did they pay you to go along with them?" "I didn't know this was going to happen, and they didn't pay me nothing!" Gideon snarled, and rushed Ulysses again, his balled fist driving swiftly into Ulysses's gut. "Shit!" he cried as he doubled over. Gideon grabbed Ulysses by his long, thin white hair, and jerked his head up. "Where are the stab wounds, Forge? Where are the fucking gunshot holes?" "What the fuck are you talking about? Gideon backhanded him across the face, drawing blood from the darker skinned man. "Exactly. You didn't do a damned thing, did you? That's bad-no, worse- than being fucking bought out by them." He backhanded Ulysses again, and shoved him to the floor. "Now, get the fuck out of my house. I'm phoning the police, as the gil I took from that old bastard was the final deal, and I've wiped all traces of my past activity. I'm a normal, upper class citizen who was manipulated into criminal activty now. Forge, and you're just one badass motherfucker. I'd say you've got about a half hour to get the fuck out of my face before the cops come and I get you thrown into fucking jail for the next ten years. I might be a normal upperclassman now, Forge, but I'll still make you suffer." Gideon opened the door, still holding Ulysses all but imobile with his tight, tearing grasp of his hair, and threw him out. Ulysses didn't say a word as he tumbled down the three cement stairs, frothy blood from his mouth bubbling on the rough surface. Groaning as he forced himself to his feet, Ulysses staggered down the driveway, pulled himself over the fence, and began walking in what he hoped was the proper direction of the train station. "Ulysses," he began to himsel ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Torn Date: Thu, 03 Sep 98 21:32:01 (PDT) From: "Jenny L." Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" Day- July 9th Time- late afternoon Place- Sector one ==================== OOG-Ok, I'm into naming my post titles after songs. ^_^ This one's 'Torn' by Natalie Imbruglia, on her album 'Left of the middle'. It's a cools song, try listening to it some time. ^_~ ===================== Korrine and Vixen talked for awhile about Turi, and lots of other things. It felt great to be able to talk to someone who really cared. Vixen was a great friend, and that was just what Korrine needed. Korrine decided that Azeral was being very nice, too. But finally, after a long conversation, Korrine decided that she would be ok until Turi came back. "So, do you think you'll be ok?" Vixen asked. "Yes, I think I will." Korrine smiled, "I'm going outside for a few minutes, ok? Just wait here, and I'll eventually be back." Korrine rose and started walking towards the same bench that she was crying on earlier. She sighed and sat back down on it. For a minute, all she did was sit there, and think. But, all she could think about was Turi. She wished that he'd hurry and come back. Suddenly, she felt tears fall from her eyes again, and her throut get tight. She sniffled, and started to cry again. Korrine knew that she was wrecking her makeup, but she didn't really care. She felt like she had the weight of the world on her back, even though she only had one small problem. She continued to cry even harder. But then, all of the sudden, she heard someone say her name. She thought that maybe it was Azeral, coming back to ask her if she was ok. But when she looked up, she saw......Lars! Korrine got up quickly, and smiled at him. "Lars!" She exclaimed. Lars nodded. "What are you doing here, I would have thought you had someone to cruise Midgar with. By the way, this is Rude. He's my partner. Rude, this is Korrine." Korrine looked up at Rude and smiled cheerfully. Korrine almost sighed when he didn't smile back. She thought, "Korrine, it looks like you've been crying," Lars continued, "What the heck happened?" Korrine looked down a little. "Well, my, um, boyfriend died. He was on vacation at Costa De Sol, and he got into an accident." She tried hard not to cry again. "Really? I'm sorry to hear that......" Lars frowned. Korrine looked around nervously, trying to make sure that Azeral or Vixen didn't show up. She knew that they were wanted, and didn't want to get them in trouble. Looking back up at Lars, she half smiled. "Oh, it's ok. I'll get over it. Plus I have a......." Korrine quickly shut her mouth. She knew that she couldn't mention Turi. "Umm, I have a friend that's helping me sorta get over it, you know what I mean?" Lars nodded. "Well, that's good. Are you sure you'll be ok?" Korrine nodded and wiped her eyes. "So, what have you been doing lately?" She asked casually. ================= OOG-Okies, Vixen, Azeral, if you guys want to make some sort of plot twist or somethin', simply go find Korrine. ^_^ If you want to get in trouble, that is. Umm, anyone else that's in the area can interact too, I guess. That would make a cool plot (maybe not a plot twist) too. == Jenny (Korrine) ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Feat of Feet Date: Sat, 05 Sep 98 02:19:09 (PDT) From: "Threep Meister" Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" ------------ Time: July 8, 2000 Place: Near Concert Stage, Sector 1 (I think....) ------------ Trev's composure was taking a severe beating. Here he was, playacting the part of an average Shinra guard assigned to patrol the festival....there were six bloody sectors full of carnival-happy people, and he was drawn for the one that would have the most dangerous enemies nearby. Turks. Trev had been waiting for a chance to reveal his identity to the small group Korrine Fox had been with. Trev recalled the faces of Vixen, Azeral, and could never forget Turi and his mutagenic habitations. Turks. A little too close for comfort. He'd managed to edge a mere five meters away from the others when the pair of Shinra elite had sauntered up to Korrine and struck up a conversation. Lars and Rude, Trev realized. They're on patrol too. Or perhaps they're off for today... He didn't want to get any closer than he absolutely had to. Perhaps it would be best to abandon attempting to talk to Korrine. Should either Turk recognize him, he'd be in for it. Fighting Turks was a whole different ball game than fighting a guard with a six-pack of brewskies. He covertly began to 'edge' in the opposite direction. The Turks now had their back to him. Excellent. It would be an easy matter to turn and run-- An overexcited child darted in between Trev's legs. Trev fell back with a yell of surprise. Trev's blue helmet saved him from harming his skull on the hard street, but in the struggle to rise again in the crowd the protective covering was torn away. Trev reflexively stood, unmasked. He looked in a full 360 degree arc. Where were the Turks? He didn't see them! Perhaps that meant they couldn't have seen his face. But did anyone else recognize him? Oh, how he hated Midgar's Most Wanted. He stooped and reached for his helmet. It was kicked by another pedestrian, who offered a profuse but quick apology as he continued on his way, leaving Trev to chase the material. Trev finally caught up with it and placed it on his head. He stood. A brace of meters in front of him were the Turks in question. He sighed. Their backs were still to him. They hadn't seen him. Who had? Trev did his best to fade quickly into the crowd. He had almost made it to a safe distance when a hand clmped down hard on to his shoulder. ---------- [OOG: Game plan? Anyone can own the hand and have a chat with Trev (goody!). If no one wants to own the hand, I'll use a generic townsman. I'll wait until monday before I finish this, giving you guys...three days to add on to it. Jenny, no doubt Korrine saw Trev. But she may not recognize him; they only met once.] ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: Problems from Death Date: Sat, 05 Sep 98 23:52:31 (PDT) From: kkwan a globalserve.net Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" Problems from Deaths ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Time: Afternoon Place: Sector One Date: July 9th, 2000 `` "I've been doing well, Korrine," Lars replied. "I've recovered quite well... considering it was a really serious slash. I'm pretty much back to normal now, and Rude's here to help break me into my job." Rude chuckled aloud, showing white teeth at Lars and Korrine. Korrine shrank back in her seat slightly at the sight of the large man's shoulders shaking with laughter. "Yeah, break him in," Rude repeated, grinning. Lars took the liberty of flopping down on the bench next to Korrine. "Hey, by the way, did you hear about... Ariana Shinra's death?" he whispered. "I heard that you were taking care of her kid." Korrine's eyes bulged out of her sockets and she turned paler than she already was from the news about Ty. Lars mentally slapped himself on the head for being so uncaring. "Damn, I'm sorry for bringing up this so soon after... after you heard about..." Korrine signed. "No, it's okay... I had to learn... somehow... better from you than some lousy newspaper..." "It's good that you have a friend to help deal with it all," Lars said softly, quite at contrast with the image that the Turks radiated. "What are you going to do now?" [OOG: This is pretty damn short, probably the shortest post I've ever written in my lifetime, but there isn't much I can do without getting Korrine's response. After all, she's taking care of her kid, so...] -- -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Problems solved.......? Date: Sun, 06 Sep 98 17:12:42 (PDT) From: "Jenny L." Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" Day- July 9 Time-late afternoon Place- Sector 1 ======================= Korrine looked off in the distance. "I'm not sure what I'll do, really. I have to tell Rainie that her mother died, of course. But, I wasn't really planning on taking care of her for the rest of my life. I plan to have kids of my own someday, but, this is a little too early." Korrine stopped to take a breath, "I like to be able to go wherever I want anytime I want. I'm not really that responsible yet......." Korrine sighed. "Hm, maybe you could get someone else to take care of her." Lars suggested. "That's not a bad idea......," Korrine said thoughtfully, "But I'm not sure of who I'd give her to." As Korrine looked back into the distance, she noticed someone familiar. At first, she wasn't sure who he was, or how she knew him. Then, it hit her. He was one of the people who was locked in prison with her. She thought, but didn't say anything outloud. He was staring at her thoughtfully. She stared back for a minute, but then blinked and looked at Lars again. "Well, anyway, I guess I'll have to do something like that. Lars nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." Korrine looked in the distance again to see if she could find Trev in the crowd. But, he was nowhere to be found, so Korrine made a mental note to try to find him later. "Well, did you get to see my concert?" Korrine asked. "Yeah, you were great!" "Thanks!" Korrine said, smiling. She scanned the crowd, and hoped that Vixen or Azeral didn't show up. She had no idea of what to do if they did. All she could do was hope that they didn't show up. "Well," Korrine said, still staring at the crowd, "I hope that everything's going ok for you. I hope I'm not keeping you from your job......." "Oh, no, don't worry about it." "Ok." Korrine said cheerfully. ================= OOG-Ok, sorry that this is so short! Well, I guess no one minds that much, really. I'm all out of ideas. Um, remember everyone, anyone can jump in and interact anytime! === Jenny (Korrine) ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: TOM: A Web of Lies Date: Mon, 07 Sep 98 00:34:03 (PDT) From: KKid1 a aol.com Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" 7:00 PM, Blue Plate Hotel, Sector 3 Laughter filled the suite as Argoulor lightly tapped the "End" button on Kytira's PHS. He wouldn't have to worry about Kytira and Zeng coming after him, this was just too easy. "Can't gloat yet," Argoulor corrected himself, "I better get ready for my... guest. She'll be arriving pretty soon." Quickly changing into light tan pants, (with a matching tie and jacket of course) he stowed the Shinra body armor in a closet with his and Kytira's goods, all in a nondescript duffel bag, in case things went wrong. Argoulor then donned a pair of dark sunglasses which, though hampering the unique focusing ability of his eyes, completely eliminated any abnormality to onlookers. Having corrected his personal appearance, he then turned to the room. Examining his handiwork he suddenly realized that, for the first time in quite awhile, he was not armed. Suffice to say, that prospect was not appealing to Argoulor at all, so he promptly remove Kytira's revolver from the previously mentioned duffel bag. Checking to ensure that one of these "good ones" was in the correct chamber and would fire when the trigger was pulled. Not that he would need to shoot her, only wave the gun and make threats. The prospect of actually having to kill a kid was something Argoulor didn't like, that is not to say he would hesitate to do so, but merely that he would not enjoy taking her life. Placing the revolver in the inner pocket of his jacket and, satisfied with his preparations, sat with a smile in the newly placed chair and waited for his guest. 30 minutes later.... The ringing of the doorbell startled the half-awake smuggler. "If this is housekeeping, I think I'll just shoot them." he muttered as he removed his sunglasses and stared through the peephole at a young teenage girl who could only be Leia. Opening the door, Argoulor smiled gently as he let her in, "Hello, you must be Leia?" "Yes," she replied in a quiet tone, "And you are Quin? right?" "Yes, that’s me," he offered her a large, overstuffed chair, "have a seat," Leia sat down, she looked exhausted, "can I get you anything?" The offer went unanswered as Argoulor seated himself across from Leia he mused, "How have you been?" "Fine.... I guess. How bad is it? "Pretty bad," Argoulor answered, "They think the bullet went through a lung, they started the surgery a couple minutes ago..." "And as soon as they're done they'll call right?" "Yes yes, of course they'll call," Argoulor assured her, "But lets talk about something else shall we?" That was a mistake. The only other topic Leia could think about was the romantic relationship she had not hear of. "Okay," She began, "How long have you and Kytira been involved?" "Oh, not that long," Argoulor needed a time, weeks? months? days He almost told her the truth, that he had known Kytira for toughly 5 hours, but that thought was quickly abolished. "It would have been two months as of next Friday." Leia nodded, Argoulor almost laughed, But Leia hadn't finished grilling Argoulor yet. "How did you handle her transfer?" She asked, "She's only been in Midgar for a day." "Well..." Argoulor was having a bit of trouble, "I was recently transferred here myself from..." there was only one probable place Kytira could have been transferred from.... "Junon," again she nodded. "Do you know how she.... I mean... what happened when she.... I mean," Argoulor had to finish for her, "She was trying to sneak up on a smuggler called Argoulor Jarstan, supposedly the worlds greatest marksman. He saw her in a shadow and turned to his left with incredible reflexes and, with unmatched aim, shot her." he almost hit himself Sure enough, Leia caught on. "How did you know all tha.." as if on cue, the doorbell interrupted them. "Hold on," Argoulor whispered, "It's probably room service, just stay quiet and they leave." Silently, Argoulor stalked over to the peephole and peered through. Kytira was standing outside, and she did not look happy he turned toward Leia and mouthed "Room service," then he moved back and sat in the chair, quietly pressing his finger to his lips. That was another mistake. In the total silence, Argoulor and Leia both heard, with perfect clarity, Kytira's voice shouting in the hall. "Kytira?!" Leia, followed by Argoulor rushed to the door and threw it open, "Why aren't you a the hospital?" Before Kytira could respond, Leia was yanked roughly back by Argoulor, who, sensing the potential danger, decided to play his trump card and brushed the barrel of the revolver against Leia's temple. "Hi there love!" He greeted Kytira with mock cheerfulness, "I think I can explain everything." -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Second time around... Date: Tue, 08 Sep 98 00:32:30 (PDT) From: Daly Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" [OOG: Yay... another not so weird title... I'm on a roll! ^_~ ::giggle:: N-Eway, Kytira swears a lot, therefore... heh, language warning peoples! Whoa, who didn't see that one comin`? ^_^ ::giggle:: (Ignore me, I've had too much damn coffee... ::sighs:: I'd slap myself, but I'd probably laugh...)] Time: 8:00 PM, July 9th/2000 Place: Sector 3 slums, Blue plate hotel, floor 10. *** "I guess not," Kytira muttered, staring at the closed door the woman had just slammed. "Kytira??" She whirled around on hearing her name and gasped at who the voice belonged to. Her foster sister was standing in the doorway of the door that Kytira had recently knocked on. "Leia??!" "Why aren't you at the hospital?" Just then a hand clamped roughly onto Leia's shoulder, pulling her farther away from the door. The man revealed the familiar looking revolver and brushed the barrel close to Kytira's foster sister's temple. He grinned cruelly at Kytira. "Hi there love! I think I can explain everything..." Kytira's mouth dropped open in horror as it went dry and the color drained away from her face. This was like a horrible dream, no, a nightmare, where someone you care deeply about meets your enemy. But this was different, she couldn't wake up and breathe the sigh of relief that she usually did. She wanted to scream but no sound came out. Instead a pathetic choke on his name. "A-a-argoulor.." He grinned broadly on hearing the terror in her voice. "Yes," he replied mockingly. "And you're K-k-kytira." Argoulor examined her maid apparel from head to toe, "Well, aren't we looking lovely today?" "......." Kytira was too shocked to react to the comment. Her mouth was still open and her eyes wide in horror. Argoulor chuckled, "Say, where's your immensely good looking partner?" Kytira immediately snapped out of it on his reference to Zeng. She grinned and whipped off the blanket covering the service cart. "He's right---hey, where'd he go????" The cart was empty except for the clean garments that were deeply packed on the bottom from Zeng's weight. Kytira glanced both ways down the hall, confused on why her partner had disappeared and where he had gone. 'Zeng left me??! That stupid asshole!!!' "You left him at the door, huh?" She shook her head angrily and then her gaze softened as she looked at her sister who was paler than herself. "Leia, aren't you supposed to be at Continentia?? [OOG: The name of the boarding school she attends...] Argoulor cut her off before she could answer. "She decided to drop by and visit me. Wonderful, no?" 'What the hell is Leia doing here anyway??!!' Kytira thought, ignoring Argoulor's statement. -FLASH- (Start of flashback... in Junon, a week ago) Kytira picked up the flowered letter stationary in her hand and read it, saying the words softly under her breath. "Dear Kytira... Hello, how are you? I'm fine, thanks. Geez, it's so boring now that you're not here. But they said they'll let me come back since problems keep popping up here and there with the school system. So, I'll be in Midgar in about a week, maybe two depending on how long it takes me to pack my things. I'll tell you when, ok.....?" -FLASH- (End of flashback....) Kytira blinked and mentally slapped herself across the face. 'Stupid!!' she scolded herself, still holding her gaze on the two. 'She said she'd be back soon.... why didn't she remind me...?' -FLASH- (Start of flashback....) "Leia," Kytira said into the PHS, glancing out the window of the train car. "Call back later. Bad timing." "Leia," she repeated in a more firmer tone of voice. "Call back later..." -FLASH- (End of flashback...) 'Leia did sound upset when I told her to phone back later...' Kytira thought frantically, staring at her frightened sister. 'And... oh god...' Reality struck Kytira hard that she could've broke down and cried. 'She was trying to tell me she was coming back today....' Rage swamped her with the thought of Argoulor harming Leia out of pure entertainment. She growled and began to move forward. Argoulor grinned at her fearless yet stupid move and pulled Leia closer to him. He set his left arm around her small shoulders and pressed the gun harder against Leia's temple. A high pitched gasp escaped her and Kytira immediately stopped, backing up slowly as Argoulor went off with a threat, "One more step and you become one sister short...." -FLASH- (Start of flashback...) "Kyt, it's not your fault," her twin said to her, sitting on the edge of the bed as Kytira wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Don't worry, it's alright. Leia will be fine." Kytira shook her head, angry at herself. "No, it's not alright! My carelessness nearly killed her! And you heard what the doctors said! Damn it, that rage-bomb was powerful. Level three! Stop acting like it was some foam ball! And Bliss did once say never let her touch materia or be touched by magic since she's so weak... What if she dies? It's all my fault! Arghhh.... God!! Why wasn't I more careful?? Lanai, we've already lost Mom, Dad, Marcus, Faith, Rayalynn, Ivy and Leia's mother..!! What if--?" Lanai shook her head, glancing out the window. "Don't ever say that. Don't give up on anything. Marcus is alive and you know it. We're not going to be one sister short. So, stop thinking like a quitter. Don't you remember what Mom always said?" "No, I don't remember and no, I don't know if Marcus' alive! He's probably dead for all we know, Lanai! It's called a reality check! Get one!" Kytira shouted angrily in slight frustration as Lanai closed her eyes in silent rage and took a deep breath. "Everyone is gone! Mom, Dad... everyone! And they're never coming back no matter how much we--eyaghh!" She was cut off as her twin sister slapped her hard across the face. Lanai glared at her twin as she clutched her cheek, still stinging from the pain. Against Kytira's will, tears began to well in her eyes as bit down on her lip hard. "Yes, Mom, Dad and the rest of them are gone. But, Marcus is alive... don't give up," Lanai said firmly, standing up and heading to the door. "But it is my fault..." Kytira replied weakly, rubbing her cheek. "I never should have ignored Leia... If I had listened to her, this would never have happened... she wouldn't have been fried by bolt 3..." Her gaze dropped. Lanai smiled sympathetically and walked over to her twin. She set her hand on her shoulder. "Then swear you won't do it again. Promise me and I know you'll keep it. Promise it on... ummm..." Lanai smiled as the idea came to mind. "Oh, I know...us being twin sisters. I know that's important to you." Kytira nodded slowly, wiping her eyes. "I promise it on us being twin sisters, I'll never do that again." "Do what?" Lanai prompted, making sure this pact couldn't be manipulated in anyway. "Actually.... swear it. That's even stronger." "Okay... I swear on us being twins that I'll never ignore Leia, ever... and," Kytira added to let her sister know that she really meant it. "I'll protect her, no matter what..." -FLASH- (End of flashback...) 'Lanai..' she thought, trying hard not to cry from the sudden rush of guilt. 'Oh god... I did it again....' She blinked back the tears welled in her eyes. Leia's image was blurry, but she could tell that she was trembling violently. Kytira shook her head of the thought of breaking a promise. 'No, I didn't fail yet.' Puzzled, frightened and confused, Leia glanced at Kytira then at 'Quin.' "Q-Quin, I thought you and Kytira were in love, what're you doing....?" Kytira did a double take as her sad face morphed into a menacingly glare targeted at Argoulor. "WHAT???!" She made a show of a shudder then her face twisted in disgust. "Ghhh...." "So, you're not lovers..??" "Well, we did kiss," he replied, winking at Kytira as a nausea wave and an urge to throw up hit her once more. She shuddered in return and her lips curled in disgust. "And might I add," Argoulor continued on, a wicked smile spreading across his face with satisfaction from seeing her repulsed. "You were great back in the refinery." Another "Ghhh..." came from Kytira, followed by a shudder and an urge to throw up. Leia stared at her sister's pale face. 'She always did have a weak stomach...' she thought, biting her lip hard, wanting to tell her sister to snap out of it and punch Quin. "You enjoyed it, admit it," Argoulor said, immensely enjoying her response and wanting to see how much more she could take. Kytira's nose crinkled in disgust as she fought off another urge to vomit. "You bastard!!!" Her gaze shifted to Leia, who was still scared beyond belief. "Leia, you alright? Did he do anything to you??" "I haven't harmed her.... yet," Argoulor answered emotionlessly, cutting Leia off as she nervously looked up at him and then at the gun still pressed against her right temple. Kytira swallowed hard and shook her head, keeping her gaze on him. "Fuck you. Why the hell did you bring my sister into this anyway??" "Hell, no!" Argoulor suddenly shot back, giving Kytira the 'evil eye'. "Whaaa--?!" Kytira was confused. The answer he had given didn't even fit the question let alone answer anything. 'What the hell is he talking about?' she thought, staring at him in a peculiar way. *** [OOG: Take it K Kid 1!] -- ICQ: #18219424 AIM: DalyW7 Yahoo Pager: Da_Ly "I'm a concert pianist. That's a pretentious way of saying I'm... unemployed at the moment." - An American in Paris -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: Will curiousity kill the vixen as it did the cat? Date: Tue, 08 Sep 98 13:21:35 (PDT) From: VixMinX a aol.com Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" ((OOG: yeah, funky name but i've been in a funky mood. I'm really sorry i haven't posted in a whlie, i been having some personal problems in my life..)) ((ok i messed up and forgot the MIDGAR thingy, sorry if you get the post 2 times!) Day- July 9 Time-late afternoon Place- Sector 1 ************ Vixen was bored outta her skull. Sure she was glad to be with Azeral again, and loved him more than anything, but she had a little rush of energy that made her somewhat hyper. She decided to go out and see what Korrine was doing. "Azeral, i'm going for a short walk to see how Korrine's doing. I'll be alright so don't worry." she giggled, and stood up. "Hmm? Alright Sarah, just be careful and don't get lost." He smiled at the remark, knowing she probably knew her way around better than he could. Vixen walked outside and scanned the crowds. There were lots of people, but she spotted Korrine with 2 men in suits. "Probably fans of her singing." she said to herself and walked right on over. She smiled to Korrine and sat down right next to her. "Hello Korrine! Are these guys fans of yours?" She giggled a bit, looking at the two men. They looked oddly familiar. ((OOG: ok just to set things up. let's see what happens!)) -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Unwanted Revelations Date: Wed, 09 Sep 98 09:48:32 (PDT) From: Chapman Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" Day: 8/9/2000 Time: Evening Place: Ramzi's Funeral Home Ramzi sat down in his rocking chair, he grabbed a few papers that were sitting on the table next to him, and began to exaime them. Turi slowly peered around the corner. His eyes studing the vast room before him. The room was fairly large. What mad eit so huge was the fireplace in the wall across from him. " Wow. " Was his only word to describe it. He wondered what Ramzi did with all of this space. Ramzi put the papers back down on the table. " Alright. Turi, this may sound a bit off, But I need you to relax. " He said. Turi made a face. At first he was about to object, asking the importance of his request, but then reconsidered, thinking that what Ramzi had asked could do something about the the removing of Neo. Turi shrugged and walked across the room, and sat down on the couch. " Alright. Close your eyes, and try to sleep. " Ramzi ordered. Turi, reluctantly obeyed. As he layed there, he began to wonder thing. Like how Korrine was doing, or How Azeral and Vixen were doing. Turi wondered these things, until his mind began to drift, and he found himself asleep. * * * * * * Time: Late Evening Turi's eyes flickered open. He realized then that he had fallen asleep. He sat up, clearing his throat. When he scratched his head, he realized. The room he was in was totally diffrent than he was in when he first came here. He knew it was the room he was orginaly in, only everything had changed. The fireplace was lit, brighting the room with a soft glow. However, in the middle of the room, surrounded of candles, and looked to be sitting on a odd shaped symbol, was Ramzi. he eyes were closed, and he was sitting, Indian-style. Turi guess that the man was in a meditation. Why? He didn't know, but he thought he'd find out. " Ramzi..What the hell is going on? " Turi asked. Ramzi's eye's opened slowly. " Turi. Your awake. Good, everything is prepared. " With that, Ramzi stood up and brushed off his cloak. He stepped over the candles. " Now, sit where I was. " he instructed. Turi nodded, and carefully stepped over the candles, hoping not to catch himself on fire. When he finally was able to sit down. He felt odd. He felt as if he were floating, but yet, he knew was only sitting. At first the feeling made him nausous, but only forst a second. Turi sat down, Indian-style, as Ramzi had. " Now close your eyes, and clear your mind of everything. and I mean EVERYTHING. " Ramzi said. Turi nodded. As he closed his eyes, he felt that his body was slowly rising. While he wanted to open his eyes and see, he did not. With his eyes closed, Turi saw a blinding yeloow light come from the blackness of his closed eyes. " Don't be afraid of it. Let it come to you. But clear your mind of everything, or it will only hurt you. " Ramzi cautioned. Turi did as he was told. Clearing his mind of everything wasn't easy though. As the light came closer, Turi tried to focus on it, and it alone. He hoped that this may divert his mind from thinking of anything. When the ligyht hit him, Turi felt like he was being thrown at sound speeds. The sound of wind deafened his ears. " KEEP YOUR MIND CLEAR!! " He heard Ramzi's voice roar. Turi did just that, focusing on the light. It stopped, but it did suddenly. Turi found himself standing a place of green light. " It's the Lifestream. " a voice said behind him. Turi found himself standing, in this new world. He turned around, only to see...Korrine? She smiled him. " Hello Turi. " She said. Turi looked at her, then his surroundings. " Where am I? " He asked. " The Lifestream. It is here where the life of the planet can be found. You have been sent here by a holy one. " She said. She curtesied. " While I look like Korrine Fox, I'm not. I am the representation of your image of all that good and holy to you. " She said. Turi nodded. " Ramzi said he would help me get rid of Neo...How can I do that? " He asked. Korrine's smile remained, " You were sent here not to be saved, but to be cautioned. " Her smile turned to a serious glare. " The light you saw before arriving here, that was Holy. It has done all it can to help you. But Turi, one thing remains. " She said. Turi frowned. " What? " He asked. Korrine's glare remained. " Your guilt. " She said flatly. When Turi arched an eyebrow, Korrines look changed from serious, to a sad one. " Turi, Your guilt. It's acting like an anchor. The amulet Neo resides in can't be removed unless you release yourself from that guilt. " She said. Turi didn't like this. " Why? Why does my guilt matter? " " Because it was your guilt that put Neo there in the first place. Don't you remember? " Turi thought for a minute. Memory's of how he found Neo resurfaced. There was a pause, then Turi said. " Yes I remember. While it was I who commited the Sin, I blamed Shinra. I accused them of tricking me. While I knew..all along..it wasn't there fault. It was my own. I tried shirfting the blame to Shinra. Until now, I didn't ever think of that day... " Turi said. He signed, then looked up at Korrine. " Alright, What do I do? " He asked wearly. He didn't like this at all. The stone glare returned. " Tell her. " She said. Turi's face lost color. Although he could guess what it was, He didn't want it to be true. Turi stared at her, jaw dropped for a minute. " Tell whom what? " Turi asked, hoping it wasn't the answer he didn't want to hear. " Tell Korrine of what you did, of what REALLY happened to you. " She said. Turi wanted to die, he just wanted to die. Why? Why HER? As Turi stood, he swayed a bit, a pale look on his face. " I know it's a lot, but- " Alot? YES it's a lot. It's too much. What the....WHY!? I can't tell her that.... " Turi said. His stomach churned. Why/ This wasn't fair. He was asked to tell the one thing which he truly love sin this world, that's he's a monster. A cold blood, heartless monster. WHY? He couldn't...He just couldn't... Turi fell to his knee's. Tears came to his eyes. It wasn't fair. To make himself happy, he had to practically get rid of that which makes him happiest. " I.....can't. " Turi wheezed. He started to shake his head and repeat what he had said. Korrine walked over to him, and looked down on him with pity. " I know it isn't fair. But your guilt ties to her. If you do tell her, then your guilt will go, since you will be telling the one person you don't wish to tell. " Korrine said. Turi looked up at her, tears down his face. As the tears came, Turi felt an odd feeling. When he opened his eyes again, He discovered he was back. Ramzi sat, hunched forward a bit, infront fo the circle of candles. " Your back. What is the answer? " Ramzi asked. Turi wiped wet eyes. Although where ever he did go he did cry, he didn't here. He looked up at Ramzi. " I have to tell her. I have to tell Korrine Fox that I, heartlessly and without thinking nor caring, burned the town of Corel. " -------------------------- [OOG: Alright, I'm O-K again, So I'm back. Comments on my first post in days welcomed. ] -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========-------- Subject: ToM: Fall (Part 1) Date: Thu, 10 Sep 98 08:39:01 (PDT) From: Tim9475 a aol.com Reply-To: "MIDGAR" To: "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" , "Multiple Recipients of Mailing List MIDGAR" This is a multi-part message in MIME format. --part0_905407297_boundary Content-ID: <0_905407297 a inet_out.mail.aol.com.1> Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII --part0_905407297_boundary Content-ID: <0_905407297 a inet_out.mail.aol.com.2> Content-type: message/rfc822 Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Content-disposition: inline From: Tim9475 a aol.com Return-path: To: smcclure a goldrush.com Cc: kkwan a globalserve.net Subject: ToM: Fall (Part 1) Date: Tue, 8 Sep 1998 17:42:19 EDT Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Time: 12:00 PM, July 9, 2000 Place: Department of Propaganda, Sector 8 Plate It had to be here somewhere. The thought echoed through Vicks' head as he thumbed through the various surveillance discs which were kept in the archives at the department. There was no way that Tyr could have a completely pristine past...somewhere there had to be some dark corner he could shed some light on. No man lacked skeletons in his closet. Vicks had already found several tapes from bugs implanted at Tyr's home...Vicks' leaders kept close tabs on Signus. While there was some "interesting" footage of Tyr and that new Turk, Elena, there was nothing incriminating. "Damn!" Vicks cursed. Things were not going his way at all... He continued sifting through the tapes in silence until he finally found something of interest... a tape of the events at the stadium. For the first time since arriving at the archives, Vicks smiled... the tape wasn't beneficial to his assignment, but it would be refreshing to watch his own finest hour. He popped the tape into a nearby console and watched the events of the stadium unfold... People ran screaming through the stands as the sound of a Thunderemaker Heavy Rifle echoed through the stadium. Near the center of the stadium, members of AVALANCHE rushed about in an attempt to free Wedge Roberts. The camera came to finally focus on Barret, AVALANCHE's leader, as shots from the rifle flew near him, but the shots never quite connected. Vicks smiled to himself... the best part was coming up. Children milled about near Barret, confused by the sounds of gunfire. Suddenly one of the children exploded into a cloud of blood and flesh and bones. It was at that moment that the other kids began screaming. A strand of saliva dripped out of the left side of Vicks' mouth and began working its way down his face. One after the other, four more children exploded into so much ragged, bloody pulp. In a matter of seconds, what had once been five children were reduced to a statistic by the Thundermaker Rifle. Five shots, five kills; Vicks was quite proud of his marksmanship. Hell, he should have gotten a medal for hitting those kids. After all it's not easy to hit small, moving targets at long range. Then came the grand finale. Barret turned to face the stands and lifted his arm in fury, aiming his assault cannon skyward. Suddenly his lower torso erupted in red and AVALANCHE's leader dropped to the ground, his life flowing out of his wound. The spittle finally reached Vicks' chin and hit the floor before he wiped his face off with his sleeve. He glanced around, looking for another tape... maybe there was one with a better camera angle somewhere. As he searched for another surveillance tape, he thought of what had happened afterwards. Cloud's sudden assault had caught him by surprise. Had he not landed on several bystanders who broke his fall, Vicks was certain that he'd have been dead. As it was he'd been off duty for three weeks as his broken ribs and right arm recovered from the fall. "Ahah! Here we go," Vicks said as he picked up another surveillance tape of the stadium. He removed the first tape from the player and replaced it with the new one. After a moment, the screen lit up showing Tempkins' preliminary speech. Now that he knew what to look for, Vicks could see members of AVALANCHE moving among the crowd. Cloud, up in the stands. Barret, making his way toward Wedge. That ninja, Rio, movi... "WAIT A DAMN MOMENT!" Vicks shouted to himself. He quickly rewound the tape and watched the scene again... Rio was still there. Vicks' mind raced as he tried to recall the events of over a month ago. Hadn't Tyr killed Rio? Didn't he say that he'd dropped the ninja into the Sector 2 Reactor? The connections in Vicks' head finally clicked. "That bastard!!!" Vicks roared. "I always wondered why Tyr would just kill Rio out of hand like that. But why let him go?" More facts began rushing into Vicks' head. Tyr's reaction to Benedict brutally putting down the food riots. Tyr's distaste for Rufus' policies of fear. Black 36. That was it! Tyr had to have told Rio where Black 36 would be released from. Only the Shinra High Command would have known where the chemical would be released from and SOLDIER had been in charge of its release. Vicks grabbed a phone and dialled Raith Cantorek's office. Tyr's treachery had to be reported immediately. The phone rang only once before a secretary answered. "You have reached the Department of Public Safety," she said. "This is SOLDIER Vicks. I need to speak to General Cantorek. Immediately," Vicks ordered into the phone. "I'm sorry, but he's in an important meeting and can't be disturbed. I can book you for an appointment sometime next week. The General is a very busy man," she said. "Damn it! The whole Shinra corporation is about to be undermined!" Vicks roared into the phone. "I have to speak with him now!" Click. Vicks tossed the phone to the ground in cold fury. The bitch had hung up on him! He'd have to go to Cantorek's office and see the General himself, even if he had to fight his way in past an army of lazy bureaucrats. Tyr's treason had to be exposed. --part0_905407297_boundary-- -------=========================+++++=========================------- This note comes from: The MultiVersal Dreams BBS @ (209) 754-5851 ----======= WWIV 4.24a via the PPP Project Software =======---- --------=========+++=========--------