ach! hit send when i wanted to hit save. heres the rest.
I scanned the rows for Zig's cell, but did not see it. Alethea
and I jogged up the metal steps to the second level, and again
searched for and did not find him. We checked every level, looking
in each cell, and caught only blank stares. This was bad.
Try calling out his name.
I guess i thought that was obvious, maybe it needs to be written in.
Pre-modern prison blocks were built to be high atriums,
letting every inmate view the Plexiglas and chrome execution
room. It was a reminder that anyone could be erased down here
and no one back home would ever know. Execution in the past five
hundred years has been done by exposure to toxic chemicals as a
more humane method than that of live embalming.
Blech! I'd say so.
but not much more humane, (just cheaper)
"I told him where you lived, that's all. He said he was from
the parole office and that he was going to help you! I thought I was
doing both of us a favor." He paused. "I admit there was also some
talk about my own legal problems. I really don't know what I was
thinking."
Me either. Almost sounds too good to be true
it was
Zig fired the gun I had given him and rolled off the table. I
turned and saw Wells, draped in his distinctive black garments,
deflect the bullets upward through the glass ceiling by force of
will. I still wasn't familiar with this,
Not really surprising. Wonder if he can divide his concentration and
continue that trick, though.
nope
Wrapping my arm around the waist, I flipped him back
onto the metal cross that Zig had been strapped to earlier in
a makeshift ugoshi. He was gasping and clutching at the air.
The myrrh valve's switch was next to the door frame,
which Chris wasted no time in hitting and
jumping out of. I followed.
Ah, so that explains your choice of methods of execution. I should have
seen
it coming.
well this worked well, but it wasnt what I had in mind. Myrrh has a sort of
important function in the city as youll see later.
"Damn it, you know what I mean! You don't have to deny
it to me! It has probably been since you got out of prison, stranger
things just keep happening to you. Your job, your apartment, the
way you speak. Every day its something new and you act like
nothing has changed. But it has, and not in the natural, reactionary
way."
Good point. This being a first person perspective, it's hard to see that
though.
well thats what makes the surprise factor work
Zig looked at me very
closely. "You have too much control over your life, your actions. It
just stopped being necessary a long time ago. Sometimes I think
you're becoming a machine." He gave a two second attempt at
laughing the thing off, then frowned and turned away. "Whatever
that means."
A curious statement. He doesn't come across as that to me.
well to zig, hes robotic in that he doesnt shoot from the hip. He refuses to
really do anything he isnt forced into and cant get out of, then only going
through the motions. Its not like hes acting catatonic, but for a calm
casual guy like zig, screws deterministic viewpoint of life isnt natural,
and its not the way he remembers screw acting before bieng sent underground
to prison, when he was younger. As in daily life, when it turns out that
there is a little bit of supposed factual evidence supporting any intuition,
however small, it always makes the intuitive opinion seem much much truer.
There was also the fact that I had not fallen off of his car
fighting Jarred,
But little unexplained phenomena didn't bother me as long as it was in my
favor.
always true
"Not when they're turning," I said. "Chris is right. The
loading platform will be off limits to anyone but cops, we'll never
make it aboard that way. But as the train car comes around a tight
turn, the train will slow to around twenty miles an hour. We can try
to catch it then."
Only 20. Heh.
self proclaimed bad boy Chris speaking again
Still, many things felt unfinished.
As though there was a whole other book to tell.
wow, your psychic
I sighed heavily. I hadn't thought Chris would start harping
on this so soon. That same unoriginal idea all insurrectionists have,
that his actions were automatically noble in purpose, if not in deed.
If you win, you get to write the history books to reflect that, yes. :)
who controls the present, he controls the past; who controls the past, he
controls the future
-george orwell/zach de la rocha
"I have something better than an army. Eight long years
underground and the will of the people, the only things that were
never taken from me.
No. That is not better than an army. He can take his eight years and will,
I'll take men and guns, and we'll see who wins. :)
well, guerilla insurrections have worked before. especially when there is no
possibility for outside help
"To hell with him, I no longer care. I seem to have this
difficult habit of letting it get too personal and I am sick of you
running away. Too bad there aren't any flagpoles down there for
you, huh?" His head motioned off to the side.
And promptly fell off.
haha
The title had read, "Darwinist Regression*," but had been no such
thing. Ms. Wheeler's editorial had failed to pique me again. Setting the
paper down carefully, I took another sip of it, warm distilled water. (So
as not to provide any useless, arbitrary stimulation.)
"No, that was not your cue," I quickly said to my right foot,
hovering over the gas pedal.
Eh? Seems a bit disjointed there.
this was a stylistic decision, a short two paragraph snipit hours before the
race was ready to begin. But if you read the two page onus at the end of
this post which actually comes before the chapter in the normal version, it
might make some sense. I needed something here to start off the thought and
show where screw would stand on the flighty subject of free will.
I was the best driver on the tarmac and I could feel it where it
counted, down in that solid, unwavering place that motivation and
inspiration frequent.
Somewhere around the liver.
or the cock
The plan would be to stay out of the pack
altogether until the slower bruiser cars were left behind. Then I would
make my presence felt, and the rest of them would learn what prison *had*
taught me.
Mostly it involved the many uses of vasoline, but we won't get into that
now.
hahaha god your sick
As I heard this, I waved my fingers in front of the Race-Cam
camera that hovered over my right shoulder. I had not seen Chris since
the four of us had parted at the Aqueduct train station. He had said he
would call me later, but had not. I had him mailed a pair of tickets to
today's race, but apparently he had other plans. I guess I could not
blame
him for being busy.
I'm surprised Screw wants to get involved, unless he figures he already is
and needs friends and allies now.
well, its the least he could do for helping ice wells (who he thinks is his
only real enemy) and springing zig. and chris and screw were freinds
underground for years, they used to be real tight.
"I hear you."
"Good. I don't know if you can see the stands yet, but about half
of them have thunderbolts on their jackets. Derring came through on the
PR for you."
My, impressive
half is prbably too much. ill change it.
In my catalogue blue and gray racing suit, I did not feel the
thickening heat inside the car, which was registering at 112 degrees.
Now that's hot.
nascar's even worse
I was moving right, but not fast enough. Our
sides touched, and he started pushing me toward the inner wall. I tried
to
resist by steering left now but could not intimidate him. So I just
punched the gas again, and sped forward. Rookie drivers might spin out
when their rear axles were pushed from behind, but the trick did not
work on me. I turned deftly into the skid and his front bumper slid away.
Our cars left a salute of orange sparks that must have been seen in the
stands. But I left Cassidy behind and took the twenty-third position.
Harder one is coming up. You can feel it.
is that good or bad? (writing wise)
, my ears started that ferocious ringing again. It was really awful and
I slapped my helmet to try to get it to stop. The helmet was coming apart
at the welds.
Wonder if it's some kind of defense mechinism to however someone is
tampering with him.
bingo
I remembered that I had been wandering for a long time,
and it was during this lapse that I found the place where that
loathsome film had come. The film packed into the corners of my
eyes. Locke differentiated dreams and reality by 'vividness,' which
was supposedly easy to distinguish. I don't think the man ever met
my buddy Wells. The clouds and haze I had long associated with
constant anger and fear had been lifted from my senses in one slow
tear as he was destroyed. The dreams I fell into became more vivid
and life-like than anything behind the fog only my transient power
had been able to pierce.
Interesting. Very interesting indeed.
ever feel this way? its a different kind of stress
I felt it reach out of me for one last try, until Screw
somehow finally forgot it or pushed it all the way down. It even
tried to take the credit for its own destruction. Ha.
I'll concur. Heh. :)
cheeky bastards
(where did i pick that up?)
What a joy my mother had been. It was probably my lack
of clear memories which made me feel this way about the two of
them.
Confused me for a second about ho 'them' were. Should probably throw in a
line about his father.
it comes a few paragraphs later, but ill check it out
My super powers had not come from the blood, but had
developed because my parents allowed it to. I had always known
that the form of my perceptions would change with something
other than mood. I figured it was common to all people. I only
learned just after my encounter with Wells that the change in
perception was really a lack of such, a failure to continue what I
had already been feeling, and that something else was making
itself felt to pick up the slack. Something my body trusted to do the
job better. Unlike any of my other faculties, these forces passed my
conscious mind altogether. They were in the clamoring of a
beating heart. Completely natural to me, but not a natural part of
the world I walked in.
My, how enlightening. I didnt' suspect that. Interesting twist.
this is how he saw it at the time, anyway
When he was safe and gone, Zig turned to me where I lay
half sitting on the cold asphalt sidewalk, resting my weary head on
Alie's knee and said, "There's really nothing like someone's
wanting to kill you to make you want to keep on living, huh?"
Yep. Wholly agree with that.
fantastic zelazny line. maybe i ought to give him a footnote or a disclaimer
or something
Jinn caught up with me almost immediately after that and
started trying to pass the white car. Brian weaved indecisively. We
were only a small distance behind Veretti who resolutely held on
to the lead spot, never taking his eyes from the far spoke's wider,
grander gate. I bet he was shitting bricks, seeing the three of us
veering around behind him this late in the race. I saw Jinn fake left,
then cut right to pass the Flyer on the inside. Maybe eight inches
off the ground was all he could manage. Brian's white car shook
visibly when this happened, and then suddenly was thrown left and
out of control. He was lost from my screen's focal array and I had
no time to hunt for him.
Hope he turned out okay. Lack of vicousness is one of the things that saved
Screw here.
exactly
valves to believe we had broken the four hundred mile barrier, (the
sudden rush mashing my helmet back against the headrest, yet
wholly unable to tear my attention from the rear view screen in
question, my breath caught wedge like in my violently constricting
throat, indignant); gun fire
gunfire
erupted from Jinn's car.
this one-sentence paragraph was meant to lead you through his thought very
quickly without pause, while throwing in all sorts of unrelated information,
like your brain does in these intense situations. Hope it came off.
fist around his left hand, and I tried to
mangle it even more. He squeezed tighter, but eventually unable to
hold his arms together, I wiggled out of his grasp. I kicked off of
him and slowed to a stop in mid air. He did the same, and looked
up at me from below.
"Allan Wells was my master."
Screw: Then why aren't you thanking me?
?
"What about all those cameras?" I croaked, pointing at the
Levy "We're being broadcast live right now."
"Not anymore. I popped the cameras from the air a minute
ago. And I am afraid psionics don't show up on film anyway."
What, Rufus doesn't know that?
again, ?
screw is talking about Jinn showing their little power infront of the
cameras, and thus the cops, while jinn is saying he took care of the problem
already. rufius just wants a living captured screw.
"Earlier today, the Gold Cup stock car race, where a
shocking outburst of blood and chaos rocked the entire city as
Gold Cup race driver Guy Jinn opened fire on other unsuspecting
drivers, killing one and wounding several others. The deceased
victim was Brian Hayworth, nicknamed 'Flyin Brian,' who had
become a veteran champion driver after entering the race thirty two
years ago. The other two men were Carlos Veretti, a long time
Gold Cup contender, and the returning ex-con driver known as Screw.
Heh. They just have to throw in his past.
well, hes news worthy
behind me, Guy Jinn, in the yellow 99 car, starts firing when he
was hit from the side by Hayworth in white. The four bright
flashes to your left are from Jinn's weapon, an illegal military
handgun. You can see over his shoulder how this last shot
penetrates Hayworth's engine mount, and causes the subsequent
explosion. We switch now to a different angle where as you can
tell-"
Just like Theisman's leg breaking. Just have to show it at every angle.
ugh, dont remind me. and did you see McCaffery's leg (WR for the bucs i
think) break both bones clean through in the third week? It was like he had
two knees.
"I don't know. I have to call Diago tomorrow to see if our
insurance will cover it. He wasn't that mad about it. Even after all
the threats."
Well, it's not like Screw could have kept the guy from trying to kill him.
diago doesnt take things like that well though, especially after all the
earlier threats
Inside, on the end table to my right, was a stack of letters
that had come from three separate sources. One had been the
board's insurance company, handing me a ridiculously small out of
court settlement for the hazards I had suffered due to the
improperly secured gate apparatus. A three figure embarrassment.
'Three figure' is so small, most people don't even use the term.
just speech
Alethea cocked her head. "You don't think that Jinn tried to
kill you this morning specifically because he knew the Special
Forces would not be here to intervene?"
He was nuts. He'd have done it if his own superiors promised to kill him
afterwards if he succeeded.
prbably true
"I mean that even though it is one more thing that never
made the evening news, the Mandate knows someone broke into
Lanz Island and started the prison riot."
"Which is still going on, by the way," said Zig.
My. They really must be holed up pretty well.
easy when theres only one door and one elevator in and out of the block
"Don't call me cracker."
Screw: I always liked 'fortune cookie' better.
haha
Turning around, Muniz's seat was empty and spinning in
place. He was out of there like a shot and in the dim light and
crowd, a dark skinned teenager needed far less than those three
seconds to disappear. Plus, that one in particular was good at it. I
sighed.
Hmm. A bit suspicious if you ask me.
Muniz probably wont reappear, hes just an example of how things operate on
the south side
"You got him killed, didn't you? You're Screw."
No, that would have been Guy, who Screw killed, which makes Screw Brian's
avenger.
this guy sees it different because he already has his beef about lefty
"...I want to leave," she said.
I'm not surprise. That certainly came out of nowhere. An interesting twist,
but it does seem a bit brutal for this kind of story.
well, its the whole prison thing in light, and it comes back later when you
learn more about screws past. yeah, it was a little jarring and sudden,
hopefully it will come off better when you learn why. i dont know. is of
these brutal death scenes in two chapters too much?
Think I'll take a break after this. Must be getting old if four hours or so
of C+C does this to me
no you wont, you know you love it
"Good morning. Tom "Tommy" Wilkinson for the
independent press, freq 720. The city's only unbiased and reliable
news
Most people that have to qualify their speeches with words like 'unbiased'
and 'reliable' usually means they are neither. :P
O 69!
(bingo again)
The camera beheld the tall, wide shouldered man at a
podium bearing the crimson Mandate crest. A red lion standing
triumphant over an evil white one.
I wonder if anyone has even seen a live lion in this world. :)
i love the fucked up historys here. dont try to rationalize it too much.
More.
Poverty, illiteracy, homelessness; these atrocities demand a
solution no less dire.
Arkoff: Therefore we shall shoot anyone who lives in poverty, is
illiterate,
or homeless.
haha (remember when homer got the video to go live in Scorpio's new
community, and their showing all the improvements, like dumpsters being
replaced by recycling bins, and bums being replaced by park benches)
does
not believe it is so difficult to determine when the city's
progression impedes on the value of living. Freedom is not a
bargain at the price of a child's suffering.
The horrible thing is, you'll hear a lot of politicians use this tactic.
Anyone that uses the phrase 'this is going to be for the good of the
children/downtrodden/poor/etc is usually doing something bad and using the
excuse that it's only meant to help someone to pretend the action is not
objectionable. After all, how can you disagree with something that 'is
going
to be for the good of the children/downtrodden/poor/etc'? If you do object,
then you must be cruel and evil for wanting people to suffer and by
definition should not be listened to. It's really a surprisingly effective
technique, since far too many people believe soundbites rather than
thinking
about what's actually being said. Keep your eyes and ears open and you'll
see what I mean. Marvelous work on the speech, Max.
dont get me started here. i feel this way about our beloved televison too
(except of course the shows i like)
though over six million of them work in low
income jobs around the city at present. Gas stations, salons,
grocery stores, Blockbusters,
Heh. Bear them a personal grudge? :)
thought the line flowed
right." Zig cocked his head. "And considering
the size of those things, I should have gotten floor seats..."
maybe this joke was dumb
I sat there alone and started to spit myself, thinking it
would make me able to take it straight like my dad had. Of course
it did not, but it kept my mind away from crying, which he had
always told me was an assertion of weakness. His opinion lay
pathetically branded in my mind that way. It wasn't that I thought
he was right, but I could never get past the idea that I might be
wasting important time. Important tragedy time. Some day I'll
spell out all the important things I did with that time.
Nice insight into his mind.
i liked how this turned out too
People like me hate introspection. I kicked another rat.
Slow rats
big and slow
A few cars passed me on the right splashing puddle water
onto my shoes. I was surprised that there was not more traffic on a
cold Monday night. Coming around another corner, I saw that
West Main St. was empty too. Strange. Storms often lightened
traffic on the highways, but residential roads were usually
unaffected. In the distance I could see the outline of the old
stadium which had been abandoned to the gangs decades ago. Who
knew which one occupied it now.
Which what? Which gang?
yeah. not clear?
"Yes. And the gun is some sort of energy rifle. I have never
fired it, so use your own weapon until you find it necessary. Now
help me, I hurt my hip in the crash.
Among other body parts.
well this is the one that hinders his walking
I pushed people aside and ran into the train's tiny
bathroom. Through a shaded window I concentrated on the stairs I
had just come down, and got ready to smash any gang members
who came down. Before the cars even started moving I saw the
glint of Weirham's dangerous little toy in the hands of a fat,
screaming Taur who I now realized could not have been more than
seventeen.
Old enough to kill you. In the end, that's all that really matters.
VT
"Well, I don't see...oh...Oh god... He brought friends."
The black Taur with a smile on his face walked down the
isle of the car in front of ours. Behind him were at least six other
gang boys with their right hands in their jackets which bore the red
bull tag. They shoved commuters out of the way and came right at
us.
Time to use psionics again.
not in a crowded train car
As we both raised our guns at each other, the train finally
jerked to a stop, and reflexively we all reached for a pole.
But in that instant, I realized my folly. I wouldn't be able to
fire the damn gun with only one hand- I deliberately missed the
pole, and continued to fall forward onto the floor as the shooting
started. Glass was heard shattering behind me. I rolled onto my
back, aimed the gun upward, and pulled the triggers.
There's more than one trigger on it?
all cool energy rifles do, didnt you know?
When the direction of conversation swung his way, Chris
stood up seriously. "The procedure tonight became much more
complicated than we had calculated," he started. "Hand-men of the
Taurs tried to get to Weirham first, as we knew, but they eluded us
back at the Plaza. I left Stitch in charge of the reconnaissance and
protection, and he did his job well. Still, we tried to cut off
Weirham's car as they chased it south on the Turnpike, but a
second group ambushed us near the exit ramp to West Main Street.
Again Stitch dealt with them.
Stitch sounds resourceful.
more on him later
The women looked at each other. "What would you say is
the likelihood of public reprisal?" the same one asked.
"Reprisal is certain. The procedure concluded itself on a
subway train, full
drop this comma
yes sir
Chris said. "He (pointing to Weirham) is ready to talk if we give
him some sort of asylum from the Taurs. Screw will also tell you
what you need to know. They are both under my watch and
protection, so don't even think about surgery."
Hmm. Interesting that he has to mention this to what appear to be allies.
thanks
It was Alethea. She opened her eyes, and saw me staring
down at her with a look of shock and spilling relief. She was still
cradled with sleep, but reached up to touch my face with her hand,
then changed her mind. I saw then that she was mostly disrobed,
except for a pair of white knee socks.
Yep. That's mostly disrobed, all right.
miashara got me on that too, maybe ill change it. but i like the word
disrobed
I kissed her hard, and told her I would never hurt her again.
Heh. that's a lie. We always hurt the ones we love because loving makes us
far more susceptible to pain. That's why some people avoid the feeling as
much as they can. Intentionally making yourself vulnerable to someone is
always a risky prospect.
tell me about it
I had suffered my share of depression, usually caused by
arrant boredom and supposed helplessness. I was at the place in my
life where my happiness was always within sight, but beyond
reach. It was a constant state of mediocrity that made my heart
yearn for more, and not notice the things I did have. I was racing
again, but I was suddenly unable to compete with others. I had
found the girl I so desperately needed right now, yet was made to
fear for my life and hers every minute. Fear makes you objectify
things and that was the last thing I needed more of. It made me so
frustrated, and it is in frustration that all manner of radical acts are
done.
Nice passage again.
I hope the second to last sentence makes sense in context
"Nothing's gonna happen to you. Or me. When I finally get
time to go on my vacation next month,
Mine is in two weeks. I can't wait. Maybe I'll even get a chance to write.
going anywhere good? im hitting massanutten for Spring Break
The problem with Malte was that he also believed political
protest to be kowtowing to the Mandate's established system of
government. Being only a writer and philosopher with friends of
the same calling, he realized himself incapable of physical action.
And so Malte died unhappy and poor; a mountain of a mind, but a
mole hill of a man.
Heh. How interesting. I suspect I shall end up like that. Many ideas, but
few ever executed. Or at least until I catch up on the backlog. :)
good, id wanted to say somethging to this effect earlier in the story, but
this felt like the right point.
Life is random because life is all context, and context is
random. Man must respect this or pay history dearly for it.
Yes, but history ends up eventually forgotten anyway, so the price doesn't
really matter in the big scheme of things :P
heh, heres us being confucius.
left me. People like Malte were wasted talent; too full of fear to do
anything about it.
Or afraid of what they would have to do try to force their ideas upon
others.
well thats the thing, Malte didnt believe in *any* real protests. he
overestimated what the right ideas would do on their own
"I see you and Alie found each other.
Screw: What? Cumstains are on my pants or something?
hahaha
Chris: actually it was the smell on the doorknob
Alethea spoke up. "Mrs. White has a condition that requires
her to stay near to the lab facility in this building.
It's called 'Avoiding Being Assassinated.'
She should take the Vanth Dreadstar philosophy: I only overthrow
governments, not run them.
I always liked that series. You have to hand it to the man. He was good at
overthrowing galactic empires. Racked up four. One he got rid of by
destroying the galaxy. The second the people he helped put in power threw
him out. The third time he ended up mistakenly backing the bad guys and
overthrew the good ones, though he did make amends by overthrowing the
people he put in power as a way of making up.
He was also good at farming.
never seen it but it sounds cool. like gladiator
The city has always shed
shielded, perhaps?
no, shed, as in shed off the dead skin of those who can find no place in
civilized society.
those for whom there will be
no other punishment. I have never hurt others purely for my own
ends.
Desiring freedom from your oppressors is indeed for yor own ends.
i take it thats sarcasm
"I remember there being a lot of 'group time.' Big
cockroaches. And everyone agreed that the food was just
unacceptable."
"Anything else?" she asked, lowering her eyebrows.
need a line break here
probably a Word to .txt formatting mistake
"You want me to be a martyr for someone else's cause." I
said.
Mrs. White: Only if you die.
well thats where this seems to be likely to go
"Long story. Ran into a couple of Taurs last night, and
Chris showed up to cover my ass. Turns out he's tight with that
gang called 'Das Uberdog.' Anyway, his insurrectionist comrades
who run under the name 'Cabal' own a posh sixty story building
up here, and they're letting us stay."
Don't think he should have mentioned that.
he trusts zigwell
Oh what the heck. Let's finish this bad boy off.
whee! thanks! Since this one is sort of a break in part two on its own, i
may wait a little while to post the next part. (which isnt in first person!
Dun-Dun-Duuuuhhh!!!)
Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll
finish Process next. Not tonight, of course. But on the list.
whats process?
claim that the fire fight was strictly drawn across party
lines, the stolen government issue weapons found on the scene
were responsible for all casualties. One interesting fact was learned
from a witness, a small child riding with her elderly father on the
train, who was sadly one of the two civilian victims. As she is a
minor we cannot broadcast her statement, but the investigator who
interviewed the child quoted her as saying, 'I saw the man on that
poster over there. The racer. He was there the whole time.'
Mostly getting shot at.
and whining about it
Her background switched to that of City Hall, taken from
miles out. "What does the wake of this unprecedented phenomenon
hold for the people of this city? Hopefully it means an end to the
violence and hatred which have steadily increased over past years.
But is martial law really the answer? Some political social
scientists say the answer is necessarily a yes.
Those that disagreed were killed.
key word being political
"We cannot let this pass us by," Chris said purposefully.
"That speech is certain to get quite a bit of media coverage, and
there will be a lot of confusion about what this means for the
independent broadcast freq's. Another clear attack on the Mandate
in the name of everything Sarah Wheeler said would be sure to
carry with it the support of the people. This Friday, the Cabal and
Das Uberdog will hit government buildings in Capital Plaza, Lanz
Island, and the new IMHR headquarters
My. Didn't let the dust from the old HQ settle before they made a new one.
actually, they just temporarily moved the offices to another building, as
youll find out
"What right?"
"/Damn it, are you in or out??/"
drop those slashes
its impossible to find a good substitute for italics in text format. and you
can do the *thing* with every word in a sentence. the slashes i use toward
the end are in the same vein, but they work better with the parens.
"I wanted to test you, to see if you meant what you
said. I guess you do. I really don't want you to go. I feel sick to my
stomach when I think about it. But if you have to, then I can't hold
you back. I mean, you're probably right, it's just a matter of time
before another psycho comes after you. And I don't want this to
end either," she said, motioning between us.
Heh. She got her way, so she's now doing what really needs to be done.
girls
"God,
Good
okay then."
then,
actually, God works, and its how i had it originally
"The Cabal has planned for that contingency." Something
about the way he said that made me uneasy. But I was not
immediately sure why.
Because the answer was evasive?
haha, maybe ill change that
(///When my eyes opened again, the red dots were much closer. I
could see the tubes that emitted them, and supposed that the dots
would be on my neck now. Six hot dots. And the heat on the lower
part of my body had not gone away even after they had passed. My
neck was hot, and my breathing was raspy. But at least I could feel
it. Hands: check. Elbows: check. Shoulder: Wait! Legs! Legs?
Legs!? Oh, there they were. Only about seventeen or eighteen feet
to go. Strange, because I didn't remember being that tall. Why
were they so far away? And why was it so god damn hot and buzzy
in here?///)
Very surreal in this point. Nice work
i think it reads better in italics and wierd fonts, as an in and out of the
converstaion thing
Hmm. Mind control or something else. I do believe we shall find out next
chapter. Excellent cliffhanger to end this on. I approve.
thanks a lot, seriously. This is the big one, and its as far as im going to
post for a while on the website. maybe you might have seen this thing
coming, maybe not, but dont worry, its important. I wonder if the earlier
bible reference shed light on why she started singing those wierd verses.
(its from Song of Songs BTW, and fit perfectly for what I wanted to do. hey,
maybe the bible has some worth after all. ;P)
Once again, much much thanks for the comments, i laughed my ass off in some
places, flew into a jealous rage in others. I am saving these mails and will
be sure to make the corrwections sometime soon. Stay tuned (i keep saying
that) for the next chapters where the shit really hits the proppellars. Im
an Othirr.
Peace, dude.
aes.
www.geocities.com/aescension
bonus: the ten thousandth page hit wins a BMW! Im fucking serious!
.---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
| Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
| Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
| Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject |
`---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'