X-NEW: Subreality Hopscotch (1/1)
kie...@aol.com
Subreality Hopscotch (1/1)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Kelly Newcomb
(kie...@aol.com)
Conceived in a fit of madness after FAR too much research for
CFAN and typed whilst frantically procrastinating on my
longer projects -- dedicated to all you readers and writers
out there on ACFF. All characters belong to Marvel. All
mentioned plotlines belong to their respective authors. Ten
points to you if can identify at least ten of the fifteen,
uh, "works" alluded to within -- first person to guess all
fifteen gets a sketch of any character they like provided
that a) it's female and b) I decide that I feel like doing
it. <GRIN>
Feedback is not mandatory but t'would be much appreciated at
kie...@aol.com. Do not archive (like you'd want to, but
still...) without dropping me a note, please. I'm jes' nosy
that way. PS: If anyone out there wants to dump this same
cruel fate onto another X-character, I highly encourage it!
.-=K=-.
~~~~~~~
<zzznAp-SSSSSSS>
The very air flared actinic white, dust motes dancing
aganst the blinding glare. A shadow flickered over the walls
as something staggered through the portal, tripped over the
edge of a floor mat, and fell face-first onto a futon. Then
the beacon winked out and the room was once again plunged
into pitch black.
A stream of low but choice curses came from floor level
as the traveller sat up and fumbled around in the dark,
trying to get his bearings. His hand brushed over a pair of
well-worn hiking boots, dented a discarded cowboy hat, and
knocked down a framed picture. There was a momentary silence
as he digested what his hands and nose were telling him.
<Feels like home. Smells like home.>
With a bang the bedroom door slammed open. Once again
light flooded the room -- this time from a perfectly normal
hallway and an equally perfectly normal fountain of agitated
multicolored sparks. "Wolvie? You all right? I heard a sound--"
He grunted in satisfaction, easing back onto his
haunches. His claws snapped back into his hands. <Sounds
like Jubilee. Smells like Jubilee.> "Come in and shut the
door, squirt. Just stay over there for now, though."
The coltish silhouette in the doorway hesitated for a
moment then edged inside. The hall glare was cut off and he
heard a metallic "k-click" as the door fell back into place. He
sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Okay. Now. As quickly as you
can, tell me everyone who's living at the mansion right now."
"Whaaat?"
"Don't ask. Just talk."
"Uh...shoor, Wolvie, whatever." As his eyes adjusted
to the darkness, he could see her counting off on her fingers
as she rattled off the rollcall. "You, me, the Prof, Scott
'n' Jean, the Hankster, Bobby, Gumbo, Rogue, Storm, Betts,
Warren, Bish, Sam, Joe...uh...yeah, that's everyone. The
whole zoo."
"No one else?"
"Nope. Unless you count Jean's goldfish. I don't know
their names."
"Aren't you supposed to be up in Massachusetts?"
She flushed pink. "I--I'm just visiting for a while,
remember? Sheesh! What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?"
Logan exhaled a gusty sigh of relief. "All right.
Okay. So far so good."
"Er...if I can ask now, what the heck is going on?"
Jubilee asked, edging closer. "You're acting really, really
weird."
"Everything an' anything. Total insanity. I need a
beer. Right now."
He stood up and pushed past the girl, who shrugged and
trailed after him to the kitchen. She fidgeted with ill-
concealed impatience behind her mentor as he stood in front
of the refrigerator for a long, long time, tapping his foot
and frowning at the contents.
"It's on the bottom shelf," she supplied at last. "In
plain sight, y'know."
"Uh? Oh, just checking." He grabbed a half-decimated
sixpack with that same abstracted air, claimed a chair, and
plonked the drinks down on the kitchen table. His battered
hat followed in short suit. "Looks okay to me."
"What? What does?"
"The fridge. Last time I looked, it was fulla green
veggies and sugar-free stuff for that little blue kid of McCoy's.
Blech." He raised the beer to his lips and then stopped
short, staring at the label. "Sonovabitch! Whose is this?"
"Uh...it's yours. What's that dirty look for? You
LIKE Kirin."
The bottle thumped back onto the table, untasted. "Not
anymore."
Jubilee was finally at the end of her short fuse. Pun
intended. "Wolvie, if you don't tell me what the hell is
goin' on, I'm yelling for Jean to pry it out for me! And she
WILL, too!"
For a moment Logan glared at her across the sixpack.
Then he sighed and lounged back in his chair, rubbing his
stubble. "Not sure how to put it, pun'kin. One minute I'm
lyin' down ta bed -- then there's bright light everywhere.
The next thing I know, I'm somewhere in the FOH-infested
Rockies with you, Gumbo, an' some short noisy chippie
claiming to be related t'Wade."
"Wade? As in 'Deadpool, The Mouth That Walks Like A
Man'?"
"Yeah, the same. An' I've been jumpin' through portals
like a dog through a goddamn hoop ever since. Everytime I
think I'm back, it turns out it's not quite exactly home..."
Jubilee thought for a moment. "Sounds like 'Sliders'
or 'Quantum Leap' or something."
"I guess. I never really watched those." He
contemplated the shunned bottle of Kirin beer then grimaced
and downed it anyway.
"Was I in any more of these...places?" Jubilee asked,
her eyes bright with curiosity.
"Um, yeah, a couple."
"Oh, come ON Wolvie, talk! Tell me! What was I like?"
For the first time since she'd known him, Wolverine
actually...blushed. Bright red. He mechanically popped open
another beer for moral support. "Well, uh, there was that
one with Bobby's over-sexed cousin, and the one with me an'
Betts where you tried to get...er. Actually, I don't think
you're old enough to know."
Jubilee's expression was now alight with mischief.
"You mean I...oh, man oh man! Well, I guess it's only fair
that SOMEwhere in the multiverse some version of me is
gettin' it."
"Jubilation Lee--"
"Okay, okay, ferget it. What else? I wanna hear it all."
"That'd take all night."
"Highlights. Cliff's Notes. C'mon, spill it!"
Logan rocked back in his chair, pondering the request
as the familiar taste of decent brew mellowed him out.
"Lessee, I've been yelled at by an angel, gotten married an'
retired, dragged back through some old business with Vic an'
North, kicked around by Batman--"
"No way! From the COMIC BOOK?"
"Yeah, squirt, but at least I didn't go ga-ga over the
Boy Wonder like SOME little firecrackers I could name. Where
was I? Oh yeah." He started ticking incidents off on his
fingers. "Pummeled by a pissed-off long-lost twin sister,
hauled out in front of a bunch of yahoo MTV cameramen like a
performing monkey, dropped through a storm into a geek
convention and told that *I* was a comic book character,
forced to help Magneto babysit a kid who could raise the DEAD
for crissakes, and screwed silly by Betts, Storm, AND Jean.
Not all at the same time, you. Though that would'a been fun."
Jubilee had both hands clapped over her mouth, her eyes
huge. She made a muffled sound which vaguely resembled the
syllables "Ohhh boy."
"Yeah, that's kinda what I said too. And that's not
even mentioning--" his voice lowered with a shudder "--the
fanboys. At the mansion. ON THE TEAM. And then there were
the parodies..."
"Sounds painful," Jubilee said helpfully. Logan just
shrugged and downed the third bottle in one long pull. Then
he forlornly eyeballed the empty carton. "Oh, hey, no
worries Wolvster, I'll get more for you. Don't get up."
"Thanks, kid." He flashed her a tired but grateful
smile. "God, it's good to be home."
The fridge door rattled behind him and then glass
clinked heavily at his right elbow. He glanced over,
startled. The fresh beer was resting on the table...and
Jubilee had not yet moved from her chair. There was no one
else in the room. For a moment he thought maybe Jean had--
Jubilee was grinning triumphantly. "Not bad, huh?
I've been practicing finetuning it, just like the Prof
ordered. No sweat."
Logan stared at her, a bad feeling settling into the
pit of his stomach. "Finetuning what, exactly?"
The teenaged girl rolled her eyes and snorted as if the
answer was perfectly obvious. "My control over the Phoenix
Force. Duuuuh! Sheesh, Wolvie, what planet have you been
living on?"
"Obviously not this one." Wolverine was already
clambering back to his feet, clapping his hat hastily back
onto his head, oblivious to Jubilee's bewildered queries.
<Gotta be another portal around here somewhere. Damn it!
And I was so close this time...!>
FIN...?
Keith D. Kelley
Hi all the writers out there I just wanted to tell you to keep the storys
coming, I come on here everydayand read almost every new story. And to be
honest with you all I think That Hawks and Kitsunes is the best storys of
them all. But there is lots of potenial writers out ther esome of these
people should pros
-Daddy Mac-
Keith D. Kelley
Subject: Thick As Thieves 1/24
From: Todd and/or Valerie <dbl...@seanet.com>
Date: 1996/11/18
Message-Id: <32913A...@seanet.com>
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Disclaimer: Gambit and Iceman, as well as the rest of the X-Men, belong
to Marvel. Everyone else, with the exception of a cameo or two, belongs
to Lori and myself. And no, we're not making any money off of this. . .
Thick As Thieves
by Valerie Jones and Lori McDonald
Chapter 1 (Valerie)
Bobby Drake stepped out of Che Merrin, hoping he didn't
look as much like a loser as he felt. It was nearly eleven, and he
had realized nearly an hour ago that Clarissa wasn't going to show.
He should have known better than to let Jean set him up on a blind
date.
He stood under the tasteful burgundy awning and watched
the rain. He didn't really feel like going back to the mansion, even
though it was likely he wouldn't run into Jean at this hour. Mostly,
he just didn't want to admit that the night was a complete failure.
The valets watched him, but didn't approach. They knew they
hadn't parked a car for him when he'd come in. Bobby imagined he
saw ridicule in their eyes. Ridicule for the stupidly hopeful young
man who'd gone in alone, and had come back out the same way.
Something familiar caught Bobby's eye, and he peered
into the rain, trying to identify it. All he saw was a dark shadow, a
silouette on the street, that moved away from him with a well-
known, cocky stride. Gambit. Bobby stared after the retreating
figure, then he stepped into the rain and followed. What could
Gambit be up to on a night like this? Bobby chuckled to himself.
Almost anything. Gambit always had a hidden agenda. Bobby was
one of several at the mansion who were more than a little
concerned that that agenda might not include the best interests of
the X-Men.
Bobby kept his hands in his pockets and his head down,
glancing up every now and then to keep his quarry in sight. Gambit
didn't seem to be paying particular attention. He had the collar of
his long duster flipped up against the rain, and was moving down
the street with long, purposeful strides. However, that could only
mean that he had someplace to go, and didn't much like being out
in the rain. Bobby wondered where his bike was. Of course,
considering the rain, he'd probably taken a cab from the mansion.
Still, that didn't answer why he was walking to his destination
instead of having the cabbie drop him off at the front door.
Gambit paused at the street corner ahead and looked
around with apparently casual curiosity. Bobby dropped his head a
little lower and tried to shuffle his steps. He'd had a rather painful
lesson in how much the man knew about the art of hiding in a
crowd in that Friends of Humanity debacle. After a single sweep of
the surroundings, Gambit turned into the narrow street. Bobby
glanced at the signpost, but it was empty of green placards.
Lovely.
After a moment, Bobby went to the street corner and
looked around. He just barely caught a glimpse of the top of
Gambit's head as he descended a flight of stairs below street level.
It was a basement entrance to the building Bobby had just passed, a
brown brick monstrosity that appeared to hold several shops on the
ground floor and appartments above, to judge from the small
balconies adorned with the occassional wind chime or potted
geranium.
Curiouser and curiouser. A girlfriend, maybe? Bobby
went to the top of the stairs. The door at the bottom was gray,
made of badly pitted metal. He paused, debating. How much right
did he have to go snooping around Gambit's business? Then he
stepped down onto the top step. But just think what an addition it
would be to the gossip pool! It would hardly be any less than
Gambit deserved anyway.
Bobby walked down the stairs and opened the rusted
door. It was dark inside, unsurprisingly, and there was a light at the
end of the short hall where it turned. Bobby tried to walk as quietly
as he could, since Gambit could be just around the corner. He
paused just shy of the corner and listened, but didn't hear anything.
Hopefully that meant that Gambit was gone, and not waiting to
jump out at him and yell "Boo!". That would fit the Cajun's sense
of humor.
Bobby walked around the corner. He saw a flash of
motion that resolved itself into two men. Both were very large,
very mean, and very well armed. Bobby was thrust against the wall
with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs, and he felt
the distinctive pressure of a gun barrel in the hollow beneath his
chin. Only a tiny rational voice in the back of his mind held back
panic and kept him from transforming to his ice form. It had been
drilled into him: Don't show your powers against a human threat
unless you absolutely have to. These days, it bred more paranoia
than ever. And Bobby wasn't entirely certain that going ice would
protect him against a bullet to the head. He *thought* so. Emma
had taught him that he could heal wounds during the
transformation, but he wasn't sure he could handle having his brains
blown out. So he held still and tried not to let the snarling visage in
front of him intimidate him too much.
"What're ya doing here, boy?" the man who held the gun
on him asked. The pressure on Bobby's throat intensified, nearly
causing him to gag.
"I'm with. . . . G-LeBeau," he managed to gasp out.
"He just-he just came through." *And man is he gonna be
pissed.* But Bobby kept that thought to himself.
The two men exchanged looks, and the other one turned
and went through a door at the far end of the hall.
"What's your name?" The pressure eased minutely, but
the menacing snarl was still at full bore.
"Drake. Bobby Drake." There didn't seem to be much
point in resisting. As much as it hurt to admit it, the wisest thing
was going to be to wait and let Gambit bail him out of this goon's
hands.
"So, Bobbo, is Mr. LeBeau expecting you?"
Before he even registered the question, Bobby thought,
*"Mr."* LeBeau? But then he gathered up his wits.
"Geez. I was late, o.k.?" He tried to put as much attitude
into it as he could. "And the name's Bobby. Or Robert. Or
Drake."
The goon didn't seem impressed. Just then, the door
opened again and the second goon returned, followed by Gambit.
Gambit's eyes narrowed to angry slits, then, just as quickly, the
expression vanished.
"Oui, he's mine," he said, sounding disgusted. He glanced
at Bobby. "Y' late." Then he turned and walked back through the
door. Goon One released Bobby and stepped aside.
Trying to hide his nervousness, Bobby walked past them
and opened the door. He found himself in what looked for all the
world like a coat check. A pretty young woman sat at a small
counter with racks of coats, primarily raincoats, hung behind her.
The view was ruined, however, by Gambit, who leaned against the
wall, scowling.
"Y' want t' leave y' coat?" he asked in a deceptively mild
voice.
"Uh, sure." Bobby started to shrug out of his very damp
sports coat. What in the world? But he decided not to push it.
He'd already stepped in it big, and the expression in Gambit's eyes
was decidedly unfriendly. The coat check girl smiled at him when
he handed her his jacket.
"Inside." Gambit stepped up right behind him, making it
impossible for Bobby to try to start a conversation with the girl.
"Right." He went to the door on the far end of the small
room and opened it. He was immediately engulfed in a wave of
noise. Half was music, the other half, voices. He would have
paused for a moment to adjust, but Gambit nudged him rather
forcefully from behind, and he stumbled forward into the room.
How did Gambit *find* these places? Bobby looked around in mild
awe. He was standing at the entrance to a very large casino in full
swing. He saw craps, card tables, roulette wheels, pool tables.
Two giant tv screens dominated two corners of the room. One
displayed a boxing match, the other-and Bobby had to
doublecheck-ping pong. The competitors were asian, and the
commentary, Bobby thought, was in Japanese. There were people
everywhere. Most were dressed to the hilt. It was a sea of black
ties, happily interruped by mostly lovely and highly be-sequined
ladies. It was only then that Bobby realized that Gambit was
dressed for the party. Except for Scott and Jean's wedding, Bobby
couldn't think of another time that he'd seen the Cajun in a monkey
suit. Unfortunately, he wore it pretty well, judging from the covert,
and not-so-covert, looks the nearby ladies were sending his way.
Dressed more casually, Bobby suddenly felt like a gawky country
cousin.
"Now, y' want t' explain what y' were doin' followin'
me?" Gambit stood slightly behind Bobby and to his left. Bobby
wondered, if he turned around, would he find a gun, or perhaps a
charged playing hard, aimed at his back. That was certainly what
Gambit's tone implied. What was normally a nagging dislike
coalesced. Bobby absolutely *hated* it when Gambit took that
superior tone with him. He was an odious, obnoxious, lowlife scum
criminal, and Bobby would never understand why the Professor let
him stay.
"I'll bet this place is *highly* illegal, eh, Gambit? What
else goes on here, huh? Drugs, maybe? How many of these
women are whores?" A spike of pain shot through his elbow and
up into his shoulder as Gambit's fingers clamped on his elbow.
"De only reason I didn' let dose boys outside blow you
away is `cause you're an X-Man, hear? Don' give me reason t'
change m' mind."
Bobby glanced over at him and was startled by the
expression in his eyes. It was anger, mixed with fear. Bobby
almost crowed. There was something here that Gambit *definitely*
didn't want the X-Men to know about.
"Fine," he agreed shortly. Let Gambit think he was
cowed. Gambit seemed to buy it. His grip relaxed.
"I got business t' do here, an' den we be gone. So you
jus' sit over dere at de bar an' stay out o' trouble. Dese folks don'
take too well t' outsiders."
Genuine curiosity caught Bobby for a moment. "Tell me
one thing, Gambit. What *is* this place?"
Gambit snorted. "A playground o' de New York Thieves
Guild. Now will y' behave?"
"Yeah. Sure." Bobby tried to hide another stab of
triumph. Gambit was still stealing. Wait til the prof heard about
this one. So much for his "Great Success". Almost happy, Bobby
made his way to the bar. Gambit went the other way, and stopped
to talk with a slim man who bore an alarming resemblance to a
knife blade. He was sharp faced, and had his dark hair greased
back, showing a prominent widow's peak. He could have been
wearing a flashing sign that said "criminal" across his chest and it
wouldn't have been any plainer, Bobby thought. The man nodded
at something Gambit said, and then the two of them disappeared
through an archway into another room filled with gamblers. Bobby
shrugged and turned around to face the bar, silently debating
whether to try to follow Gambit further. He finally decided against
it. Gambit was going to be in plenty of hot water as it was already.
Personally, Bobby couldn't wait.
Remy was still muttering curses to himself as he stepped
into the brightly lit office behind Shrew. Shrew was called Shrew
because he looked like one, and because he was just about as
bright. He walked all the way up to the monolithic desk that
dominated the room and said, "Gambit's here, boss."
The man seated at the desk looked up at him slowly.
"Thank you, Shrew." If he was annoyed, he didn't show it. In fact,
he was completely expressionless. But Shrew bobbed, obviously
pleased by the notice, and then left.
That left the man and Remy to face each other across the
wide expanse of mahogony. Remy was always amazed at how
much Michael reminded him of a shark-cold, slick, alien, and
driven by a hunger that couldn't be reasoned with. He was one of
the most dangerous men Remy had ever met.
Michael's lips curled upward in a smile that came nowhere
near his eyes. "Bad night, Remy?"
Remy sighed. "Don' get me started."
"Who is he?"
Remy was expecting that. "Jus' a kid I got saddled wit."
Which was true enough. If you looked at it a certain way.
"You don't look too happy about taking on an
apprentice."
Remy snorted. "Apprentice? Not hardly." At Michael's
curious look he added, "One, de boy got no sense. Two, he hates
me. Three. . ." He was ticking the points off on the fingers of one
hand.
Michael threw back his head and laughed. That was
another thing about Michael. His moods could be mercurial
sometimes. Remy had seen him put a knife through the heart of a
man he had been hugging a moment before. He had made it a point
to keep his relationship with the New York guild on a purely
business level. Michael had no mistaken impression that they were
friends.
After a moment, Michael's laughter died. His face became
still once more. "So what did you want to see me about, Remy?"
he asked.
Remy crossed the short distance to the desk and took a
brown folder out of his jacket. He turned it around, and laid it
down in front of Michael. Michael picked up the fairly thick folder
and began to examine it. Remy simply crossed his arms and let him
read.
He read quickly, scanning the forms with practiced ease.
When he was done, he looked up. "I see."
Remy nodded. "Y' gon' have t' put a stop t' dis, Michael.
De police are puttin' de pieces together. Dey know dey got a
group o' mutants pullin' off high-dollar jobs. How long `til dey
start seein' de *real* picture?"
Michael considered him gravely. "I'll take care of it."
"Good enough." Remy was eager to be gone. The longer
he was away from Bobby, the more nervous he felt. But as he
turned away, Michael stood.
"Is anyone else beginning to suspect?" His hands rested
casually on the desktop, the perfectly manicured nails reflected in
the lusterous surface.
Remy cocked an eyebrow.
"Your X-Men, for example?"
Remy shook his head. "Dey blind t' everyt'ing dat don' fit
dere `dream'. Don' worry, Michael. We a long way from bein'
discovered. . . so long as you c'n control y' guild, neh?"
Bobby ordered a beer and sat down at one end of the bar.
The bartender set the amber bottle down in front of him with a
thunk and a scowl. Bobby tried not to stare. The man had a scar
that ran from the corner of his eye all the way out to his ear, which
was mangled, and the scowl made it twist like a living thing.
"Thanks," Bobby said. The bartender only grunted.
*Must be a union job* Bobby thought. At least he'd popped the
top on the beer. Bobby examined the label curiously. He'd ordered
an obscure microbrew-one he'd never heard of, in fact. The name
on the label was Hefeweizen. It was a strange looking beer.
Cloudy, almost. He took an experimental sip. Well, it was
different, but not too bad. Then he chuckled to himself and took
another drink. After all, Hefeweizen was better than no weizen at
all.
As he lowered the bottle, his eyes met those of a woman
who sat just around the corner of the bar from him. He paused. A
line from a song wandered through his mind without identifying
itself. "Cerulean blue eyes, so fair and so shy." She was stunning,
though Bobby wasn't certain he would call her beautiful. Her hair
was nearly as white as Storm's, but much finer. It fell to just below
her shoulders in a wispy pageboy. The blue eyes were framed by
lashes of the same color, which somehow stood out against her pale
skin. She had a short nose and pink lips, though Bobby didn't think
she was wearing lipstick. A dusting of freckles crossed her cheeks,
which was good because they were the only thing that made her
look like a human being instead of a china doll.
Bobby realized he was staring and tore his gaze away. But
the wall behind the bar was lined with mirrors, and Bobby found
himself studying her more covertly. She didn't seem to notice as
she ran one finger through the condensation from the base of her
glass. He risked a direct glance in her direction. She was dressed
in one of those *really* mini-dresses-the kind that looked painted
on. Black. It was a horrible color for her, he thought. She was
pale enough as it was, and the dress was so. . . cheap. A thought
occurred to him then: she might be a prostitute. He looked away
again. What would she do? Ask him to dance? Or would she be
more direct? Maybe he would be better to move down the bar a
ways. Then she would have to follow him if she wanted to make a
proposition.
Bobby snorted to himself in disgust. Yeah, right, he could
be chased away by a woman who was, as far as he could tell,
completely ignoring him. If Gambit were there, he'd probably be
laughing so hard he'd have fallen off his stool by now.
Bobby stared at his beer, ears burning. But something
touched his senses, made him look over at the woman once more.
He was shocked to realize that a line of frost followed her finger
across the polished wood, swirling in an intricately beautiful design.
"Hey, you're a mutant!" he said before he could think
about it. The woman's head snapped up and she snatched her hand
back into her lap. Luckily, it was loud enough in that place that it
was unlikely anyone else had heard him, Bobby thought angrily.
What a stupid thing to say!
"No, it's o.k.," he tried belatedly to reassure her. "So am
I." He touched the rim of her glass and froze her drink solid,
despite the alcohol content.
The woman stared at her frozen gin, eyes narrowing.
Bobby couldn't begin to guess what was behind that expression.
Then she looked over at him.
"How do you do that without breaking the glass?" she
asked. Her voice wasn't anything like Bobby expected. It was
much lower. Not masculine, but throaty. It was gorgeous.
The bartender set another drink down beside the frozen
one without a word, and turned away. The woman seemed to
withdraw into herself. She picked up the new glass and slid off of
her stool. She didn't even glance at Bobby as she walked away.
Bobby hmphed and took another drink, annoyed. He
could now say that two-count them-two women had stood him
up tonight. Just then a hand clamped down on his shoulder and he
jumped about three feet. He whirled to find Gambit standing right
behind him.
"Man, don't *do* that!" he groused. He was sure Gambit
just loved scaring him out of his skin.
"Let's go," Gambit said.
Bobby levered himself to his feet. "Yeah, sure." He
would be more than glad to get out of this weird place, and put an
end to a rather miserable night. But he couldn't quite shake the
first image he'd gotten of that woman-piercing blue eyes staring
into his. And she had ice powers! He knew he should tell the
Professor about her, but felt oddly reluctant to.
As he followed Gambit to the door, he decided that it
might be to his advantage to keep this little secret for a while. At
least until he knew more. And it certainly wouldn't hurt his feelings
to have a hole card to play against the Cajun.
For the first time since the evening had begun, Bobby
smiled.
David J. Warner
<kie...@aol.com> wrote:
>Subreality Hopscotch (1/1)
>By Kelly Newcomb
>(kie...@aol.com)
>
>Conceived in a fit of madness after FAR too much research for
>CFAN and typed whilst frantically procrastinating on my
>longer projects -- dedicated to all you readers and writers
>out there on ACFF. All characters belong to Marvel. All
>mentioned plotlines belong to their respective authors. Ten
>points to you if can identify at least ten of the fifteen,
>uh, "works" alluded to within -- first person to guess all
>fifteen gets a sketch of any character they like provided
>that a) it's female and b) I decide that I feel like doing
>it. <GRIN>
How about if I get half, you finish the sketches you're doing for me now?
> "The fridge. Last time I looked, it was fulla green
>veggies and sugar-free stuff for that little blue kid of McCoy's.
>Blech."
The X-S series by Darqstar.
> For a moment Logan glared at her across the sixpack.
>Then he sighed and lounged back in his chair, rubbing his
>stubble. "Not sure how to put it, pun'kin. One minute I'm
>lyin' down ta bed -- then there's bright light everywhere.
>The next thing I know, I'm somewhere in the FOH-infested
>Rockies with you, Gumbo, an' some short noisy chippie
>claiming to be related t'Wade."
> "Wade? As in 'Deadpool, The Mouth That Walks Like A
>Man'?"
The Delphi Arc by Perri Smith.
> "Was I in any more of these...places?" Jubilee asked,
>her eyes bright with curiosity.
> "Um, yeah, a couple."
> "Oh, come ON Wolvie, talk! Tell me! What was I like?"
> For the first time since she'd known him, Wolverine
>actually...blushed. Bright red. He mechanically popped open
>another beer for moral support. "Well, uh, there was that
>one with Bobby's over-sexed cousin, and the one with me an'
>Betts where you tried to get...er. Actually, I don't think
>you're old enough to know."
Mhairie by Amethyst.
> "Highlights. Cliff's Notes. C'mon, spill it!"
> Logan rocked back in his chair, pondering the request
>as the familiar taste of decent brew mellowed him out.
>"Lessee, I've been yelled at by an angel,
Hmmm...was this that "Revolving Door" story?
>gotten married an' retired,
Umm....
>dragged back through some old business with Vic an' North,
Ummm...
>kicked around by Batman--"
Crossings, don't remember the author.
> "No way! From the COMIC BOOK?"
> "Yeah, squirt, but at least I didn't go ga-ga over the
>Boy Wonder like SOME little firecrackers I could name.
DC vs. Marvel, PAD.
>Where was I? Oh yeah." He started ticking incidents off on his
>fingers. "Pummeled by a pissed-off long-lost twin sister,
>hauled out in front of a bunch of yahoo MTV cameramen like a
>performing monkey, dropped through a storm into a geek
>convention and told that *I* was a comic book character,
>forced to help Magneto babysit a kid who could raise the DEAD
>for crissakes, and screwed silly by Betts, Storm, AND Jean.
>Not all at the same time, you. Though that would'a been fun."
I see a second Mhairie reference, as well as Fog In The Forest.
> "Yeah, that's kinda what I said too. And that's not
>even mentioning--" his voice lowered with a shudder "--the
>fanboys. At the mansion. ON THE TEAM. And then there were
>the parodies..."
The Short Fanboy Story, and all the chaos that followed, I'm guessing...
> "Sounds painful," Jubilee said helpfully. Logan just
>shrugged and downed the third bottle in one long pull. Then
>he forlornly eyeballed the empty carton. "Oh, hey, no
>worries Wolvster, I'll get more for you. Don't get up."
> "Thanks, kid." He flashed her a tired but grateful
>smile. "God, it's good to be home."
> The fridge door rattled behind him and then glass
>clinked heavily at his right elbow. He glanced over,
>startled. The fresh beer was resting on the table...and
>Jubilee had not yet moved from her chair. There was no one
>else in the room. For a moment he thought maybe Jean had--
> Jubilee was grinning triumphantly. "Not bad, huh?
>I've been practicing finetuning it, just like the Prof
>ordered. No sweat."
> Logan stared at her, a bad feeling settling into the
>pit of his stomach. "Finetuning what, exactly?"
> The teenaged girl rolled her eyes and snorted as if the
>answer was perfectly obvious. "My control over the Phoenix
>Force. Duuuuh! Sheesh, Wolvie, what planet have you been
>living on?"
"Jubilation Phoenix," don't remember the author.
So how'd I do?
--
------------------- | EVERYBODY READING THIS .SIG FILE IS HEREBY ORDERED
David J. Warner | TO GO TO THE NEAREST COMIC BOOK STORE AND SUBSCRIBE
manc...@netcom.com | TO HOMAGE COMICS' "LEAVE IT TO CHANCE." VIOLATORS
--------------------| WILL BE TURNED INTO GIANT TOADS. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------- DAVE'S X-MEN FAN-FICTION HOT SPOTS ----------------------
-- The Bucktown Timeline: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/4234/bucktown.html --
----- The Common People: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/4234/common.html -----
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Team Omega is coming...
Kenneth C. Keppel
Okay, I've gotten between 12-14 depending on if you meant what I thought.
How's that?
> <zzznAp-SSSSSSS>
> The very air flared actinic white, dust motes dancing
> aganst the blinding glare. A shadow flickered over the walls
> as something staggered through the portal, tripped over the
> edge of a floor mat, and fell face-first onto a futon. Then
> the beacon winked out and the room was once again plunged
> into pitch black.
X-leap by Blase?
> "The fridge. Last time I looked, it was fulla green
> veggies and sugar-free stuff for that little blue kid of McCoy's.
> Blech." He raised the beer to his lips and then stopped
> short, staring at the label. "Sonovabitch! Whose is this?"
X-S
>
> The next thing I know, I'm somewhere in the FOH-infested
> Rockies with you, Gumbo, an' some short noisy chippie
> claiming to be related t'Wade."
> The Hard Way
> "Well, uh, there was that
> one with Bobby's over-sexed cousin, and the one with me an'
> Betts where you tried to get...er. Actually, I don't think
> you're old enough to know."
MHarie and Xtenerating Cercumstances
>
> as the familiar taste of decent brew mellowed him out.
> "Lessee, I've been yelled at by an angel,The Revolving Door
gotten married an'
> retired,
Sacarfies
> kicked around by Batman--"
Crossing
> "No way! From the COMIC BOOK?"
> "Yeah, squirt, but at least I didn't go ga-ga over the
> Boy Wonder like SOME little firecrackers I could name. Where
> was I?
I know this story, its on the Spark home page.
"Pummeled by a pissed-off long-lost twin sister,
A Lonely Quest and Bitter Reunion
> hauled out in front of a bunch of yahoo MTV cameramen like a
> performing monkey, Real World Anchoriage
>dropped through a storm into a geek
> convention and told that *I* was a comic book character,
Something by Caprice
> forced to help Magneto babysit a kid who could raise the DEAD
By the writer of the X-S, Thought the valley of the Shadow?
> "Yeah, that's kinda what I said too. And that's not
> even mentioning--" his voice lowered with a shudder "--the
> fanboys. At the mansion. ON THE TEAM. And then there were
> the parodies..."
A short Fan Boy STory and Switching REality for fun and Profit
"My control over the Phoenix
> Force. Duuuuh! Sheesh, Wolvie, what planet have you been
> living on?"
The Jubilation Lee: Phoenix Exterme?
Psyfire
Kenneth C. Keppel wrote:
>
> Okay, I've gotten between 12-14 depending on if you meant what I thought.
> How's that?
>
> "Pummeled by a pissed-off long-lost twin sister,
>
> A Lonely Quest and Bitter Reunion
>
So it is my story :) Cool, I never thought it was accually being read, or
did you read it cause I sent it to 4 mailing lists? Well it's cool anyway
to have my story kinda pop up in someone elses :)
Oh and I'm new here to the newsgroup, maybe I'll start posting my other
stories here. If anyone want's I can post 'Lonely Quest...' here so you
all can read it :)
I'm just so tickled to see my story in this one :) It was my first real
attempt at writting fanfic :)
Well I'll stop babbling and anoying everyone now :)
Is there a faqs for this group? I don't want to break the rules, at least
not till I know what they are *grin*
Nice meeting everyone :)
Psyfire.
--
(psy...@geocities.com)
*************************************************
X-Quotes and Dreams, My ever-growing X-men
page : http://www.geocities.com/athens/3534
*************************************************
Quote of the week:
Spiderman: "Well, you sure showed him."
Wolverine: "Shut up ya puny little geek!"
-Spiderman TAS Mutant Agenda Part 2
*************************************************
Hawk
In article <19961205042...@ladder01.news.aol.com>,
<kie...@aol.com> wrote:
>Feedback is not mandatory but t'would be much appreciated at
>kie...@aol.com. Do not archive (like you'd want to, but
>still...) without dropping me a note, please. I'm jes' nosy
>that way. PS: If anyone out there wants to dump this same
>cruel fate onto another X-character, I highly encourage it!
How's about public feedback?
More! *chuckle* I especially liked the ending.
> "Wade? As in 'Deadpool, The Mouth That Walks Like A
>Man'?"
ROTFLMAO. You a fan of Tamora Pierce as well, or did your deranged mind
come up with this on its own?
Hawk
Breasts are not a steering wheel.
http://www.blarg.net/~hawk/fanfic.html - acff FAQ and Where Can I Find
Comic Fan-Fiction on the WWW? FAQ
Amethyst
With lithesome air manc...@netcom.com (David J. Warner) frolicked and sang
out:
><kie...@aol.com> wrote:
>>Subreality Hopscotch (1/1)
>>By Kelly Newcomb
>>(kie...@aol.com)
>>
>>Conceived in a fit of madness after FAR too much research for
>>CFAN and typed whilst frantically procrastinating on my
>>longer projects -- dedicated to all you readers and writers
>>out there on ACFF. All characters belong to Marvel. All
>>mentioned plotlines belong to their respective authors. Ten
>>points to you if can identify at least ten of the fifteen,
>>uh, "works" alluded to within -- first person to guess all
>>fifteen gets a sketch of any character they like provided
>>that a) it's female and b) I decide that I feel like doing
>>it. <GRIN>
>
>How about if I get half, you finish the sketches you're doing for me now?
>
>> "Was I in any more of these...places?" Jubilee asked,
>>her eyes bright with curiosity.
>> "Um, yeah, a couple."
>> "Oh, come ON Wolvie, talk! Tell me! What was I like?"
>> For the first time since she'd known him, Wolverine
>>actually...blushed. Bright red. He mechanically popped open
>>another beer for moral support. "Well, uh, there was that
>>one with Bobby's over-sexed cousin, and the one with me an'
>>Betts where you tried to get...er. Actually, I don't think
>>you're old enough to know."
>
>Mhairie by Amethyst.
And X-Tenuating Circumstances by Garrett Faulkner.
>> "Highlights. Cliff's Notes. C'mon, spill it!"
>> Logan rocked back in his chair, pondering the request
>>as the familiar taste of decent brew mellowed him out.
>>"Lessee, I've been yelled at by an angel,
>
>Hmmm...was this that "Revolving Door" story?
Seventh Inning Stretch by Perri Smith.
>>Where was I? Oh yeah." He started ticking incidents off on his
>>fingers. "Pummeled by a pissed-off long-lost twin sister,
>>hauled out in front of a bunch of yahoo MTV cameramen like a
>>performing monkey, dropped through a storm into a geek
>>convention and told that *I* was a comic book character,
>>forced to help Magneto babysit a kid who could raise the DEAD
>>for crissakes, and screwed silly by Betts, Storm, AND Jean.
>>Not all at the same time, you. Though that would'a been fun."
>
>I see a second Mhairie reference, as well as Fog In The Forest.
Which was by Norma Graham and Mitch Kelly.
--
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-> Amethyst <-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
| Keeper of the Labyrinth Flame ^^^^^^^^ http://www.jadzia.demon.co.uk/ |
| Please note this opinion is biased http://www.redrice.com/amethyst/ |
| because I am human. "Just love me, fear me and I will be your slave" |
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Labyrinth mailing list: al...@hal.com, subscribe labyrinth <your address>
kie...@aol.com
On 7 Dec 1996 01:24:38 Hawk (M...@cris.com) sed thusly:
> How's about public feedback?
> More! *chuckle* I especially liked the ending.
<KLONGGGGjdfklagjgfgfnm afk;l>
That, dear lady, was the sound of my jaw hitting the keyboard.
Praise...from HAWK...in p-public...? ! I don't think my heart
can...urrg...ughhhh.
All joking aside, I'm truly flattered, which is why I'm answering
in public rather than in private. Thank you very much for making
my week.
>> "Wade? As in 'Deadpool, The Mouth That Walks Like A Man'?"
> ROTFLMAO. You a fan of Tamora Pierce as well, or did your
> deranged mind come up with this on its own?
That one's off the top of my head, I swear. I think I was inspired
by something buried in my subconscious somewhere, but seeing as I
have not read anything by Tamora Pierce I can honestly say that I
did not "borrow" one of her lines. Neat. Thanks again. I feel
all warm and fuzzy.
> Breasts are not a steering wheel.
And speaking of ROTFLMAO...!
<hearing the whip being uncoiled again> Yes massa, gettin'
back to the sketchbook... <G>
.-=K=-.
*** Remy opened the door and found himself staring down the
muzzle of the biggest gun he'd ever seen.
"So," Mystique said. "I understand you've been sleeping with
my daughter." -- "Middle-Class Suburbia" ***
Hawk
In article <19961208045...@ladder01.news.aol.com>,
><KLONGGGGjdfklagjgfgfnm afk;l>
Interesting looking word. What's it mean?
>That, dear lady, was the sound of my jaw hitting the keyboard.
>Praise...from HAWK...in p-public...? ! I don't think my heart
>can...urrg...ughhhh.
*chuckles and shakes head* Cut it out, Kielle. Ever since I dropped my
demeanor of (mostly) impartial archivist, I've said some good stuff on the
group (not much, but I don't say much bad stuff here, either). This is
nothing to have a heart attack over. A happy giggling fit, maybe, but
anything else is overboard.
>All joking aside, I'm truly flattered, which is why I'm answering
>in public rather than in private. Thank you very much for making
>my week.
My pleasure. It's fun to make people's weeks.
>>> "Wade? As in 'Deadpool, The Mouth That Walks Like A Man'?"
>> ROTFLMAO. You a fan of Tamora Pierce as well, or did your
>> deranged mind come up with this on its own?
>That one's off the top of my head, I swear. I think I was inspired
>by something buried in my subconscious somewhere, but seeing as I
>have not read anything by Tamora Pierce I can honestly say that I
>did not "borrow" one of her lines. Neat. Thanks again. I feel
>all warm and fuzzy.
Warm and fuzzy like Hank?
Actually, though, it's not a line it's the title of her third Alanna book,
"The Woman Who Rides Like A Man". Damn good series, and it should _not_
be labeled Young Adult.
>> Breasts are not a steering wheel.
>And speaking of ROTFLMAO...!
*grin* I'll make sure to pass the comment onto the boyfriend. I'm still
trying to teach him these lessons, but you know what SO's are like...
><hearing the whip being uncoiled again> Yes massa, gettin'
>back to the sketchbook... <G>
*puzzled look* What whip would that be? I've got mine securely fastened
in the corner of my bedroom.
Hawk
Breasts are not a steering wheel.
Link
On 8 Dec 1996, Hawk wrote:
> In article <19961208045...@ladder01.news.aol.com>,
> <kie...@aol.com> wrote:
> >On 7 Dec 1996 01:24:38 Hawk (M...@cris.com) sed thusly:
>
> ><KLONGGGGjdfklagjgfgfnm afk;l>
>
> Interesting looking word. What's it mean?
I know. It's a magical word that Cinderella's fairy godmother uses in
turning that pumpkin into a carriage. Right?
> >>> "Wade? As in 'Deadpool, The Mouth That Walks Like A Man'?"
> >> ROTFLMAO. You a fan of Tamora Pierce as well, or did your
> >> deranged mind come up with this on its own?
>
> >That one's off the top of my head, I swear. I think I was inspired
> >by something buried in my subconscious somewhere, but seeing as I
> >have not read anything by Tamora Pierce I can honestly say that I
> >did not "borrow" one of her lines. Neat. Thanks again. I feel
> >all warm and fuzzy.
>
> Warm and fuzzy like Hank?
Instead, how about Barney? Just kidding! Ha!
> Actually, though, it's not a line it's the title of her third Alanna book,
> "The Woman Who Rides Like A Man". Damn good series, and it should _not_
> be labeled Young Adult.
That old series. I read it when I was in junior high. Boy, that was a
long time ago now that I think about. I didn't think it was that good,
Hawk. There was something annoying about it that I can't put my finger
on it right now. Reading it at the time, I did think it was wonderful,
but now.... By the way, did the author ever bother to write another one?
I will not even comment on the quotation or the whip.
Just this, "Whatever."
Link
Hawk
In article <Pine.ULT.3.93.96120...@uclink2.berkeley.edu>,>> <kie...@aol.com> wrote:
>> ><KLONGGGGjdfklagjgfgfnm afk;l>
>> Interesting looking word. What's it mean?
>I know. It's a magical word that Cinderella's fairy godmother uses in
>turning that pumpkin into a carriage. Right?
You worded me!
>> Warm and fuzzy like Hank?
>Instead, how about Barney? Just kidding! Ha!
*goes off to the corner to retch* I'll get you for that one...
>> Actually, though, it's not a line it's the title of her third Alanna book,
>> "The Woman Who Rides Like A Man". Damn good series, and it should _not_
>> be labeled Young Adult.
>That old series. I read it when I was in junior high. Boy, that was a
>long time ago now that I think about. I didn't think it was that good,
>Hawk. There was something annoying about it that I can't put my finger
>on it right now. Reading it at the time, I did think it was wonderful,
>but now.... By the way, did the author ever bother to write another one?
A sequel to it? Yeah, she wrote Lioness Rampent to finish up the series.
It did get kind of preachy at time, so that might be what bothered you
about it. For me, there was just something that really called to me.
Maybe it's because it's one of the first scifi stories I read that had a
woman as a protagonist, and she was doing _exactly_ what she wasn't
supposed to. That appealed to me.
>I will not even comment on the quotation or the whip.
*pout* You're no fun.
David J. Warner
In article <58doga$1...@herald.concentric.net>, Hawk <M...@cris.com> wrote:
><kie...@aol.com> wrote:
>><hearing the whip being uncoiled again> Yes massa, gettin'
>>back to the sketchbook... <G>
>
>*puzzled look* What whip would that be? I've got mine securely fastened
>in the corner of my bedroom.
What? Then whose whip here did I pilfer from your apartment? =^)
>Breasts are not a steering wheel.
They sure can steer me, though...
--
------------------- | EVERYBODY READING THIS .SIG FILE IS HEREBY ORDERED
David J. Warner | TO GO TO THE NEAREST COMIC BOOK STORE AND SUBSCRIBE
manc...@netcom.com | TO HOMAGE COMICS' "LEAVE IT TO CHANCE." VIOLATORS
--------------------| WILL BE TURNED INTO GIANT TOADS. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
------ DAVE'S FAN-FICTION HOT SPOT: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/4234 ------
Hawk
In article <manchildE...@netcom.com>,
David J. Warner <manc...@netcom.com> wrote:
>In article <58doga$1...@herald.concentric.net>, Hawk <M...@cris.com> wrote:
>><kie...@aol.com> wrote:
>>><hearing the whip being uncoiled again> Yes massa, gettin'
>>>back to the sketchbook... <G>
>>*puzzled look* What whip would that be? I've got mine securely fastened
>>in the corner of my bedroom.
>What? Then whose whip here did I pilfer from your apartment? =^)
_That's_ where that one got to! I've already replaced it...
>>Breasts are not a steering wheel.
>They sure can steer me, though...
*ruffles hair* You're so cute when you leer.
Hawk
Breasts are not a steering wheel.
Perri Smith
Kielle wrote:
>> The next thing I know, I'm somewhere in the FOH-infested
>> Rockies with you, Gumbo, an' some short noisy chippie
>> claiming to be related t'Wade."
>> The Hard Way
No Man's Land, ec-tually -- short noisy chippie? Kielle, you know I love
ya, but I think Jordan's gonna have a few words to say about this!
ROTFLM*O! Great stuff!
Perri
--
Perri <perr...@intex.net>
"I have no treasure but what's in my eyes." -- Lowen & Navarro
Abyss
David J. Warner <manc...@netcom.com> wrote in article
<manchildE...@netcom.com>...
> In article <58doga$1...@herald.concentric.net>, Hawk <M...@cris.com> wrote:
> ><kie...@aol.com> wrote:
> >><hearing the whip being uncoiled again> Yes massa, gettin'
> >>back to the sketchbook... <G>
> >
> >*puzzled look* What whip would that be? I've got mine securely
fastened
> >in the corner of my bedroom.
Gee, i leave for a while and everyone goes on an S&M trip... howcum the fun
stuff never hapens when i'm around?
> What? Then whose whip here did I pilfer from your apartment? =^)
It wasn't a whip... it was her Halloween costume... Selene eat you heart
out!
> >Breasts are not a steering wheel.
No, more like a... oh, geez, i better just let that one go, i'm in NO
position to defend myself.
> They sure can steer me, though...
'Lisence and registration please.'
'But officer... whats the problem?'
'Illegal use of a nipple to menuver a vehicle in a public place.'
> --
> ------------------- | EVERYBODY READING THIS .SIG FILE IS HEREBY ORDERED
> David J. Warner | TO GO TO THE NEAREST COMIC BOOK STORE AND
SUBSCRIBE
> manc...@netcom.com | TO HOMAGE COMICS' "LEAVE IT TO CHANCE." VIOLATORS
> --------------------| WILL BE TURNED INTO GIANT TOADS. YOU'VE BEEN
WARNED.
considering the nearest store to carry thats probably on the other side of
th continent, make my toad suit a medium... omething in neon green should
do it...
Abyss... in Australia,out of sight, but definitely out of his mind.
sorry, but this whole exchange was too good not to jump into.
Happy New Year...
bye now...
"There he is... fire, FIRE!!!!"
Oh hell, gotta run now...
David J. Warner
Abyss <Abyss<down....@outof.touch> wrote:
>David J. Warner <manc...@netcom.com> wrote:
>> In article <58doga$1...@herald.concentric.net>, Hawk <M...@cris.com> wrote:
>> ><kie...@aol.com> wrote:
>> >><hearing the whip being uncoiled again> Yes massa, gettin'
>> >>back to the sketchbook... <G>
>> >
>> >*puzzled look* What whip would that be? I've got mine securely
>> >fastened in the corner of my bedroom.
>
>Gee, i leave for a while and everyone goes on an S&M trip... howcum the fun
>stuff never hapens when i'm around?
Hey, is it OUR fault you got shipped to Apocalypse's house?
>> >Breasts are not a steering wheel.
>
>> They sure can steer me, though...
>
>'Lisence and registration please.'
>'But officer... whats the problem?'
>'Illegal use of a nipple to menuver a vehicle in a public place.'
"Hey, Warden, I need a tit! HEY, WARDEN!"
(10 Cool points for guessing the source of that quote.)
>> ------------------- | EVERYBODY READING THIS .SIG FILE IS HEREBY ORDERED
>> David J. Warner | TO GO TO THE NEAREST COMIC BOOK STORE AND SUBSCRIBE
>> manc...@netcom.com | TO HOMAGE COMICS' "LEAVE IT TO CHANCE." VIOLATORS
>> --------------------| WILL BE TURNED INTO GIANT TOADS. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
>
>considering the nearest store to carry thats probably on the other side of
>th continent, make my toad suit a medium...something in neon green should
>do it...
As you wish...A LA PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICHES!!!! *poof*
>"There he is... fire, FIRE!!!!"
>Oh hell, gotta run now...
*sigh* You're such the diplomat, aren't you?
--
------------------- | EVERYBODY READING THIS .SIG FILE IS HEREBY ORDERED
David J. Warner | TO GO TO THE NEAREST COMIC BOOK STORE AND SUBSCRIBE
manc...@netcom.com | TO HOMAGE COMICS' "LEAVE IT TO CHANCE." VIOLATORS
--------------------| WILL BE TURNED INTO GIANT TOADS. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
Kielle
ABYSS!!! Buddy, pal, amigo...whoa, hey, wait...augh!!! <diving
behind a car as the shock troops pour past in hot pursuit> <poking
up head fearfully as the dust settles> Oh. Uh. Yipe. Well, at
least we know that he's, er, alive... That made my week. :)
.-=K=-.
*** "Thank you, Doctor. I like to think my three hours in front of
the mirror each morning is appreciated." / "It certainly is. That's
three hours you're not walking around in public, and that's worth
anyone's appreciation." -- The Master/The Doctor, "Cabaret!" ***