From my Fanfic Archive of the Damned come three more never-ever-ever-in-
a-million-years-to-be-released, stuff-I'm-working-on-instead-of-my-real-
stories teasers/ ideas. To answer your obvious questions in advance:

1) Yes, I'm desperate for attention.
2) I have a severly deficient attention span, and
3) sOmeBOdy sToP mE bEfoRe I SpaM AgaIn.


Crossover One: The Fusion from Hell, BGC/Dominion.

AD Dominion Tank Police.

Welcome to the wild and exotic world of  MegaPort City!!! Hark to the
adventures of Leon Ozaki, tank pilot extraordinaire! Watch a police department
that ISN'T being used as cannon fodder! See Leon confuse ADD with a seperate
acronym altogether! And just what the HELL is going on between him and his
tank (codename "Priss") anyway! You'll have to read to find out!


Crossover Two: It's been done, but what the hey. The name begs for it.

Entering darkfic.


I kneel in the corner of a dark alley, clutching my sword and waiting for my
wounds to heal themselves. My opponent is not so lucky; his headless corpse
lies a few feet away, and the last vestiges of St. Elmo's fire run their
course from his body to mine. As has happened every time before, I am the one
left standing.

There can be only one.

Those words have haunted me for nearly as long as I can remember. Considering
I can remember  two and a half centuries, that says a lot.

I knew what was happening almost as soon as I woke up the first time. I was
lying in a ditch on Culloden Moor, surrounded the bodies of my fallen
comrades. The front of my shirt was shredded, where the Englishmans
scatterrgun had impacted me. I should have been shredded as well. 

Instead, I didn't have a mark on me.

I'd heard the stories before, of course. Of the highlanders who came before
me, Duncan, and Connor. They were a popular topic of conversation during the
rainy Sundays in the taverns of Glennfinnan. Men who died and lived again, who
lay at deaths door and yet reappeared without nary a scratch. Men banished
from the town forever. In those days, many people still believed them. 

I sat there for a little while, I don't know how long, and pondered. And
eventually dismissed the entire idea. Me? Back from the dead? Impossible.

Then, when I was climbing out of the ditch, I slipped and cut my hand on a
stray bayonet. I was so absorbed in tearing free a strip of cloth to bind it
that I had it halfway knotted before I realized there was no wound to bind.

That pretty much changed everything.

I could have rejoined my unit, I suppose. Nobody else knew I was 'dead.' But
the Bonnie Prince had been routed. The cause was finished. The remnants of his
armies would be hunted down and killed. I would have to flee the country.

It provided a convenient excuse to start running away.

In time, I met other Immortals like myself. I had a Teacher, of course, who
filled me in on the details about my 'death' and 'rebirth.' Eventually, I even
met up with my illustrious clansmen. It was Connor, in fact, who pointed me
toward Japan in the late Twentieth Century as a good place to train. I'm still
here, as a matter of fact. Modern disguise techniques, plastiskin and
fleshfoam, allow us to 'age' now, and stay in one place longer.

It was around 2010 that I decided to change my name. My clan had become
entirely too well known (thanks a lot, Duncan) and I didn't want to have that
towering name and reputation following me everywhere.

I do what I can to stop the country's slide down the spiral, of course. But it
isn't helping a whole lot.

Which brings us here. A chance encounter on a lonely streetway of MegaTokyo
while on my way to the car. A young punk, probably not out of his third decade
and hell bent for leather on building a rep and collecting some heads. I
didn't even know his name.

I stride out of the alleyway, replacing my collapsible sword in it's sheath. I
make my way between the skyscrapers and buildings to my car, parked in an
underground garage.

Climbing in, I slam the door. Time to stop ruminating about the past.

I click on the radio and ask dispatch to put me through. "Daley? It's me.
Listen, I'll be a little late in. I had some business to take care of."

"Roger, Leon-chan. Don't keep me waiting to long."

I am Leon Macleod of the Clan Macleod. And it's time to go to work.


Crosover Three: Same as above, but with big winged guys.

No snazzy trailers or twists for this one, just the plain facts. Basically,
It's BGC/Highlander/Gargoyles. Duncan Macleod is in MegaTokyo to look up some
old friends. While there, he accidentally observes another man who is
apparently immortal being killed and revived, but he carries no sword, and
Duncan CANNOT SENSE him. Morever, the man seems not to know anything about the
Game, the Rules, or whatnot. He gives his name only as Lennox McDuff, or when
pressed, as Macbeth.

Macbeth is in Japan as part of his unending feud with Demona. And why is
Demona there? Well, she's very interested in the new asian headquarters of
Xanatos Enterprises, and more specifically who might still be living in the
castle perched atop it that was has been newly transferred from Manhattan. 

Meanwhile, Sylia Stingray is concerned about how the new corp in town might
upset the balance of power. She gears up the Knight Sabers to investigate, and
considers enlisting the aid of an old family friens, Duncan Macleod, who's in
town visiting for awhile.

Rather a neat little circle, no?

-Mercutio
"A plague a' both your houses!"