As it stands right now, How Can I Express, parts 1-5, which are in
the attachment, are rough drafts of an original story.  However, after I
polish parts 1-5 to a reasonable shine, I will start progress on the next
part, which will link to anime/manga based worlds.  
	Be warned, this is very rough, and there are many grammatic and
spelling errors that slipped by me and my crew.  Any c&c given will be
appreciated for their helpful purposes.  
	Any person who wishes to help me polish this, or wishes to write
filler to make the five chapters a little longer, may do so if they notify
me they intend to do so.  The file is an attachment, Write format.  If you
cannot open it, reply back to me.

----
-/\/\- out

http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Dojo/6757
        Lost World of Ryouga



-- Listar MIME Decryption --------------
-- Name   : how.wri
-- Desc   : How Can I Express?
-- Decode : from BASE64...

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	How can I express?  Part 1 of 5

	myrriden

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	For me, Life began within the blink of the eye.

	There was that darkness around me; the eternal night from which I

was about to escape.  I couldn't comprehend this transition, not in my

state, nor with the mind I felt.  As the world came into focus, many

thoughts drifted across my mind, Who am I?  Where am I?

	All things became lost in the view of his face.  My eyes were

drawn to his still form, perhaps thirty years of age, softly turning pages in a book.  

I sat up, at odds with my body.  It felt so very strange.

	The man glanced up now, his eyes burning with the most peculiar

passion.  A strange fire lighting his face brightly.  Before I had even

moved, his mouth moved to the soft whispered words, "My daughter." 

	We stared at one another for several more seconds before he spoke,

"I am so glad you're wake at last.  You gave me quite a scare when you didn't 

awaken immediatley after the procedure.  How are you feeling?"

	"Confused,"  I replied, my voice sounding strange even to me.  It

was the voice of a young girl...but surely I was older than that?

	He smiled pleasantly, "My name is Kenneth Richardson, and I 

created that wondrous body you are wearing."

	"Body?"  I was not startled.  Rather, I was more surprised I hadnt

discovered it myself, "Am I a machine?"

	Ken shook his head slowly, "No, dear one, you are not a a machine,

but your body is.  Let me explain myself a little better."  He pointed to

my forehead.  "The human brain is a massive computer able to store a _lot_ of 

information."  He shrugged, "The science of the brain is largely unknown, 

other than the fact it runs basically on electrical waves...much like a computer.  

I stuided for years to connect the brain to a perfect body, thus providing respite 

for paraplegics and quadriplegics who wished for their bodies back."  He grinned 

now, "It might even be an aid to premature babies or the mentally deficient."

	As I listened, I stood up to test my body.  In the corner I saw a

simple metal table with a reflective surface.  Carefully walking over to

it, I gazed upon my youthful face.  I stared into the face of a six year

old girl, blonde hair curling around a pleasantly tanned face, and

attractive green eyes.

	Fascination became horror, I feel so old, yet this face is so

young.  I slid my hands down the synthtic skin coating my arms, through my

golden locks, Who am I?  What am I?

	Kenneth had obviously seen my distress, for I felt his arms softly

surround me in a hug, "I dont know who you are, but that doesn't matter now.

Your body died of a heart failure, but the mind was still alive."  He

paused, "I revived what I could, and did what I was able.  What are you?

It's a simple question...you are my daughter.  My flesh and blood come

true."

	I closed my eyes against the pain within my chest, "Why?"  I cried,

struggling against his arms.  "Why do this to me?  Why not let me die?  I

can't even remember who I _am_!  What'll I become...I don't even know my own

future."

	Kenneth fell back into his seat, pulling me onto his lap.  "Shh,"

he crooned softly, "I can't help you with some things.  But don't be afriad

of what you were, or who you were.  That person no longer exists.  You're a

new, completely different person, able to do and accomplsih what _you_

want to accomplish!"  He smiled down into my face, "You're with me now,

little one.  And frankly...I need you as much as you need me."

	I gazed into those sorrowful eyes, so full of pain and hurt.  This

was a man who needed the love of one of his brood.  I looked at the pain

stricken face he tried to hide, to give me some inkling of comfort.

	Slowly, my fears diminished, and I crawled more fully into his

lap.  Every man perhaps needs to be a father, and who was I to deny _my_

father his chance?



	This is an original piece of work.  It has nothing to do with any

fanfiction, yet I would appreciate C&C all the same.  This is yet a rough

draft, but with luck and help I'll be able to polish it up.

	I urge you to read on, because I need all the help I can get here.

	In Part 1:  Allana awoke to find herself in a new place, without

any memories of her past.  A man named Kenneth Richardson, who invented

the body she wore, took her in as his daughter.





	---------

	How can I express?  Part 2 of 5

	---------



	My seventh birthday party.  It was a gay, happy affair, Daddy

spoiling me without an inkling of concern.  Long streamers, bright colors,

a huge cake in the center of the room, and all my friends from school all

excitedly sharing in the fun.  

	Nearly a full year since my birth into this world as a new person,

a new and free person.  After that first night of sorrow, I discovered I

had the unique ability to view the world in different lights than most

people.  I felt much more happy about myself, and it was a good feeling.

I even named myself after Daddy's wife's mother, also deceaced.  Allana...

	Daddy helped me to adjust to my new life with entirely new

situations.  He introduced me to art, and I loved it, able to express my

feelings in simple paintings and posters.  Daddy hung each one on the

refrigerator, until I demanded in a spite that he take them down because

they simply weren't good enough.

	Church was a new and unique experience for me.  Sunday school

easily became my favorite past-time, for I absolutely loved listening to

the preacher, constantly timing him with my infallible mental clock.  I

guess it is obvious to state I became I full fledged Christian, accepting

Jesus into my heart easily, with the grace of a child.

	Even to this day, I do not doubt the word of the bible.

	Daddy, of course, took all of my fascinations in stride.  Somehow

he could easily spoil me, but maintain discipline on me in subtle ways.  I

look back on my past with fondness.  Daddy was so patient with me...I

think he rather enjoyed it.

	He supervised my body's growth and my inherent mental capacity with

a strictness I found fascinating.  He kept me in check as well, not

allowing me to use my greater strength and reflexis in games with my

schoolmates.  

	With my new life, it was so easy to forget about that first day;

In fact, even as I write this is the only time I have thought about it in

years.

	In the August of my sixth year, Daddy lined me up with the other

children for introduction into first grade.   But my teachers were so

surprised with me, I found myself skipping into higher grades easily,

finally settling into my fourth grade, making friends with the older

children easily, despite my age.

	

	Then, one day, my life changed.  Perhaps for the better, perhaps

for the worse.  I have yet to decide, but I know many things in my life

would not have come about without it.

	A substitute teacher to our class was so obviously impressed with

me, she payed a visit to Daddy, who had just returned from a conference in

Seattle, and due to leave in only a day or two to meet a man in

Tallahasee.

	I learned just _why_ she was so impressed when she sat down on the

couch, accepting my offer of tea with a bright smile.  "I say,"  she

exclaimed to my father as I left, "She looks almost exactly like my

daughter...little Mary."

	Daddy sounded surprised, and sad, as he replied, "Oh?  That is

strange.  I'd like to meet her."

	Mrs. Carter laughed half heartedly, "Oh, I'm afraid that's

impossible, Mr. Richardson.  Mary died...several years ago in fact."

	My heart froze within my chest, I nearly dropped the tea-pot,

super-human reflexes notwithstanding.  I heard Daddy softly say, "I'm very

sorry to hear that."

	"So am I,"  Mrs. Carter replied just as softly.  "Anyway, I just

thought the similarity so great."

	Daddy laughed, "They say everybody has twins somewhere in the

world.  Perhaps... " I came in with the tea-pot, and handed a cup to Mrs.

Carter.

	"Would you like some sugar,"  I asked sweetly, holding out the small

jar.  She smiled back, her eyes showing pleasure.

	"Thank you, no."  

	At her dismissal, I sat down next to Daddy, and cuddled up against

his side.  "Daddy, I'm sorry for interupting, but where am I going to stay

while youre in Florida?"

	He blinked down at me, surprised.  Usually I stayed by myself, or

came with him.  "I'm not sure, Allana.  Do you have any friends you can stay

with?"

	"No,"  I smiled, and cast a quick glance at Mrs. Carter, who was

absently staring into her tea-cup.  Daddy caught my glance, and quickly

realized my plan.  

	Daddy sighed, and turned toward her, "Mrs. Carter, pardon my

rudeness, but do you have any extra room in your house?"

	"What?"  she asked, blinking up at us.  "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that."

	He laughed, "My daughter doesn't have a place to stay while I'm gone

over the next week.  I was curious if you would be able to let her have a

place.  It would perhaps give you a chance to be with the daughter you

lost."

	"I dont know,"  Her face echoed unsurety, but her eyes were excited.

	"She doesn't eat much, and she's very well-behaved."  He laughed

suddenly, "I sound like I'm speaking of a dog here!  I promise shes

house-trained as well."

	Mrs. Carter laughed at his joke, "Mr. Richardson...I think I would

love the chance in all reality.  It would be good having another child in

the house."  Her face broke into a sunny smile, and she looked at me, "Do

you think you can stand having an older brother for a while?"

	"It'd be cool,"  I grinned at her, "I never have anybody to play with,

other than this big goof!"  I lightly punched Daddy in the stomach.

	Daddy laughed, "Alright, go pack your stuff munchkin."  As I ran up

the stairs, he continued, "I'll drop her off on my way to the airport

tomorrow.  Will three o clock be alright?"

	"It would be fine," Mrs. Carter replied with a soft smile.



	---------

	How can I express?  Part 3 of 5

	---------



	My new life with the Carters was so strangely different that my

life with Daddy.  In the morning I commuted to school on the bus with

Justin.  The bus ride was unpleasant, considering I was used to riding

with Daddy or running to school.  But running would have shocked poor Mrs.

Carter out of her socks.

	School was the same.  I ate lunch with my friends, took time out

in study hall to finish my homework in record time, then commuted back to

the Carters with Justin once more.  At home we'd eat supper almost

immediatley, then Justin would start on his homework.  Mrs. Carter

expected me for the first few days to use this time as well, but finally

she came to accept I did my homework rather quickly.

	Instead I took the time to sit and draw designs for one of Daddy's

better AI units.  That was my job, defining and describing the parts,

things needed to improve upon Daddys original designs.

	I had, in fact, been the first redesigner of my body when I was to

make my transition to nine-year-old status.  Daddy told me he could not

have done a better job (which is true).  Daddy was actually rather scarce

in the designing area, being utilitarian and sparse.  

	Some things just need an *ahem* woman's touch, I guess.

	The Carters were odd in other areas.  They expressed almost visual

disgust, even Justin, in my love of religion, and very little intrest in

my artwork.  Mr. Carter spent most of his free time in the shop, working

on his project, which I learned later was a simple robot.  I nearly broke

down laughing, considering he had practically the most advanced robotic

body in the world to date eating dinner next to him.

	I somehow don't think he would have appreciated the irony.

	At the end of the day, when all was said and done, the Carters

decided for some family time.  With daddy and I, this would have consisted

of sitting down and praying, or reading the bible, or even designing a new

robot or coding a simple AI with one another.  With the Carters, it consisted 

in zoning in front of the television watching satirical programs featuring surprisingly

stupid actors.

	I deigned to leave them to this...pleasure...and tended to go

upstairs to read or draw.

	It was one of these nights, Wednesday I beleive, that I changed.

	It came in a flash, a memory of my life before...

		I remember...leaning over the rails in the house,

screaming in agony, over and over, 'Mommy!'  The pain in my chest swelled,

and threatened to burst.  I screamed and screamed until my throat went

raw.  I began to cough, blood and spittle covering the carpet.

		Then I felt her arms, 'Mommy...'

		'Hush, darling, I'm here.'  She picked me up, and carried me

down the stairs.  



		The doctor, staring into my eyes, concern written on his

face.  As I looked about, groggily, he smiled at mommy, standing only a

few feet away.  'She'll be fine, Miss.'  He went on to explain my problem to

mommy, and in the end gave her a bottle full of liquid.

		Mommy took me home.

		I was forced to take the nasty formula every night and

hated it.  The pain in my chest grew worse, and I could feel hatred for

the medicine even more for it.  Some nights I would stay awake crying from

the pain.  The hatred came easily, and it, with the pain, consumed me.

Very soon, my life consisted of hating the medicine, mother, and the

doctor.  

		Of course, I  had another attack.  This time, darkness was my 

only comfort in the sea of pain ...the pain of my little heart failing to contract 

past the blood clot which had forced its way into my heart.  And the doctor 

said nothing could save me.



	I recoiled from the memory with disgust.  "Is this who I am?  A

weak little girl who never felt true pain, and hated myself for a weakness

I couldn't control?"  I felt tears well in my eyes.  "No wonder Daddy didn't

like my past."

	"Lord!"  I cried to the heavens, willing him to hear me, to

understand my need, "Oh my Lord, please forgive me.  Hatred, guilt and

pain.  Are these my only claim to the life I now lead?  My God, please

help me.  I am weak without you, without Daddy.  Please, lift me up."

	I can't explain the feeling in my body at that moment as I prayed.

It wasn't a touch upon my body;  rather a mark on my soul.  I felt a gentle

carress, and from that moment on, everything in my life, past, present,

and future, changed.

	For the better?  Fate has yet to decide.



	---------

	How can I express?  Part 4 of 5

	---------



	I died several years later, I guess.  It was an almost unnoticable

decline in my abilities.  Something was wrong with the machine that was my

body, and unfortunantly niether Daddy nor I found it until it was too

late.

	I was fourteen when it happened.  I was playing catch with daddy,

wearing my Rangers cap backwards, glaring at him with a careful smirk.

The windup, the pitch, and Daddy fell down from the force.

	He came up laughing.  

	I didn't come up.  I was on the ground, breathing heaavily.  I was

confused, so confused.  My body felt as if it weighed tons, my arms were

leaden.

	Daddy gasped.  I remember it still.  It was filled with such pain

and agony, I felt it almost tangibly.  He gathered my nigh half ton body

easily into his arms, surprising me with his strength, and ran to the lab.

	Daddy set me down on a bench, and brought over a scanner.  By this

time, I was able to assist him in many tests.

	We didnt come up with plesant news.  Despite its use, my brain had

been degrading slowly, almost imperceptably within its nutrient bath.  It

was now to the point where I began to lost motor functions, maybe even

speech.

	"Daddy,"  I whispered softly.

	"Yes?"  He looked at me.

	"Promise me I die before I forget?"

	"I..."  A single tear tracked down his cheek, "I promise, Allana."

	"Good."

	

	Then next few weeks were frantic pace.  I was dropped from school.

I recieved many visitors, most friends, wishing me well in my next few

months of life.  They all heard about my illness, hearing it termed a

fatal cancer that was incurable.

	In a way it was.  It was the last remnant of my body turning

against me.

	I enjoyed those last few months with a fervor that could only be

called maddening.  Daddy and I patented the suit which gave me life, we

developed together a powerful new android that could think on its own.  We

watched movies, and ate junk food until the sun went down.

	I learned the mysteries of life which Daddy knew, and stayed up

all night chatting on the internet.

	My fifteenth birthday party was so large, nothing on Daddy's part,

but due to the efforts of my neighborhood and all of my friends who

pitched together and had something of a large community picnic.

	There was food, people, games, and all of my friends.

	Oh, how I wish I remembered everything as it happened, but I don't.

It  was all confusing, but so much fun.  My best friend, Jani, put my hair

in a wonderful braid, Rick took my picture, Sean stole the camera, and we

all had fun chasing him around, until he surprised me, tackled me, and

kissed me.

	"That was for being my best friend for so many years, Allana."  He

whispered to me.  "I hope you take it to heaven with you, and greet me in a

couple of years when I visit you, okay?"

	I smiled up at him, "Okay, Sean."  I reached up, and kissed him

back.

	I don't know who was more surprised.  Him, me, or the crowd of

teenagers that found us a few minutes later.

	Near the end of the party, with the darkness held at bay only by the

huge bonfire, sat almost the whole town and school gathered around the 

podium, where a few of my teachers sat, and Mr. Elmoore, the mayor of

our small town.

	"Allana Richardson,"  He smiled at me, "Is a blessed young girl.

She's touched the lives of so many people.  I, personally, have been at the

brunt of her attentions many times.  Not many people can escape her joyful

love unscathed.

	'And that, I think, is what draws so many to her.  She gives out

without expecting anything in return.  Her consideration, and love, and

very heart has kept this community alive for these past few years.

	'Allana, I can fully say, that I will miss you when youre gone..."

	I smiled softly as he continued on, finding things to say somehow.

I didn't hear him, because I fell asleep so happily.

	I died in peace.

	---------

	How can I express?  Part 5

	---------



	I awoke with a pained start to the shrill shriek of a powerful

hammer against weak steel.  The hammer slammed down upon the groaning and

shrieking metal with an intensity that threatened to tear apart my very

head.

	"Stop it,"  I cried into the darkness.  But my voice made no sound.

Instead, it echoed in my mind.  Suddenly aware, I stared about myself,

amazed by the blackness, almost desperate in its efforts to cloak my body,

which was the only thing I could see, from my eyes.  "Where am I?"

	Suddenly the hammer decended, a powerful roar filling the space,

and a powerful flame lit in front of her eyes, like that of a fire.  "Where

are you?"  A voice suddenly rang through the space, louder than the hammer,

but soft and sweet to her ears.  "You are home.  For now."

	"Are you Death?"  I asked, as the hammering continued.  It paused

for mere seconds.

	"Death?"  The voice laughed.  "No, child!  I am the Smithy, He who

wrought the metal of time.  I am the Here and the Now.  Everything that

has and will happen."

	"Time?"

	"The Smithy,"  the voice, though in essence gentle as a mother's, was 

harsh and rough.  A gravelly voice like that of a man whose throat had been 

rubbed raw after centuries of yelling.  "Death did not recieve you, child.

Instead, I did."

	The flame erupted again, and I saw admist it, a large man, with

rough hands, but surprisingly long and gentle.  His face was covered with

a jovial smile, beneath the bushy black beard.  Green eyes twinkled in the

large, expressive face.

	"You are a unique case, child.  Two souls in one body, each in

perfect balance of one another.  So perfect, that even Death could not

make a judgement."

	"Two souls?"

	"The one known as Allana, and the other known as Mary."  As the

light from the fire faded, the hammering began again.  "Two completly

different people due to the wants of a father whose child and wife died in

labor.  You weren't borne of his blood, and yet the ties between you are as

close to Father and Daughter as the can be."  I had the impression he was

shaking his head slowly, "Puzzling, and yet so true.  So, anyways, little

one,"  the fire began to brighten, "You shall be split in twain."

	The searing, burning heat of the flame suddenly poured over my

body like a second skin.  Above the rush of flames, the pain, the agony, I

heard the Smithy shout, "Allana Richardson, child of Ken, seperate

yourself from Mary Carter, daughter of Linda Carter!"

	The searing pain suddenly changed into an abrupt ripping

sensation, as if a piece of me was being torn asunder by titanic primal

forces.  The Smithy appeared before my eyes, in his hand he held a molten

sword, carved and forged from the essence of time, and plunged it into my

body.

	And the heat was gone, suddenly replaced by a cold so intense, it

nearly destroyed my lungs, and I screamed.  I felt hands, large hands,

along my sides, pulling me away from the large warm cavern in which I

instinctivly sought to hide in.  Cold metal instruments forced their way

into my mouth.  I choked, spat up blood, then I felt a warm rough

sensation against my skin.

	A towel, I thought to myself, But so large!

	Then, a different pair of hands cradled me, these hands were

gentle and soft, and the face which peered into my shrunken newborne eyes,

filled with a love so intense.  "My Allana,"  the woman whispered wearily,

tired from the exertions of child-berth, "My lovely Allana.  Oh Ken, isn't

she beautful?"

	Another face, my father, "Lelanna, shes gorgeuous.  Simply

gorgeous."

	I gurgled pleasantly, and cuddled into the embrace of this woman.

This woman, my mother.

	At last, I was home!



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-/\/\-