[story] Our Present Incarnations
Lis Morris
believe it? I'm not sure I can. Anyway, here it is! Sorry about any bizaare
formatting, but it's cut and pasted from Word :-). The earlier parts of the
story can be found on my website. This story will be posted in three parts
over the next three days
Our Present Incarnations: The Sequel to the Chronology series.
Prologue: Annie's Funeral.
Albia, Version Six. 2020AD Earth Years.
It was a beautifully sunny day, contrasting sharply with the heavy hearts of
those present.
The Hand looked at the solemn group of norns standing by the graveside. It
was noticeable that there were many wide eyed children there, and few of the
adults lacked scars, gained in the recent war. Torn ears were common, and
walking sticks only slightly rarer. The Hand was keeping well back from the
ceremony: there were some aspects of norn life It was simply not involved
in. However, Its heart ached for the loss of the norn It considered its
daughter.
Annie had died peacefully- she had simply lain down and not moved again.
The cause was plain old age. Her heart had got tired of beating, and given
up. She had been 34 days old- ancient indeed for a version six norn.
She was laid out now on a large palm leaf the Islanders had brought as a
sign of respect, a single daisy clasped in her cold hands. Her eyes, tightly
closed, looked reassuringly peaceful. Her fur had gone a startling white in
old age, and the lines on her face were those of a life with much happiness,
but also some strain.
The group watched as she was lowered into the ground, and scattered soil
and flowers over her grave until she was finally hidden from view. Many of
the older norns stifled sobs.
David stood beside the grave, his eyes blank and baffled. He had cried
heartily when she had died, but now he seemed puzzled that she hadn't come
back to answer his wailing. Leaning heavily on his shoulder, was Chris. His
face didn't seem to show any grief at all, to the puzzlement of the mourning
norns, just a hooded, tired expression. His fur was entirely grey, and his
once bright green eyes had faded to a dull olive. He squinted in the bright
sunlight, in an effort to improve his failing eyesight, and his rasping
breath could be heard clearly in the silent meadow.
Only the Hand knew the reason for Chris's lack of grief. Chris knew his own
time left was possibly less than a day, if not less than an hour. Without
his son to support him, he would not have been able to stand at all. Each
breath became more difficult than the last. He would soon be with Annie
again. Chris may have been a little younger than Annie, but his stressful
life had taken its toll.
The grave was filled, and flower seeds sprinkled on the top of it. In a few
hours, this corner of the flower meadow would be unrecognisable as a grave.
With David supporting him, Chris hobbled back to his sick bed. A few minutes
later, David came running out of Chris' room, crying in despair. He'd gone
to check on his father, only to find him missing. The Hand shepherded him
away, and gave him what comfort he could.
Chris was never seen again in Albia.
Chapter One: Resurrections
Albia, Version Seven. 2022 AD Earth Years.
Albia was young. A scant few days ago, there had been nothing but a
wilderness of sand and rock. Now, though, life had begun its slow symphony,
and trees and grass had started to grow, and the landscape become haunted
with insects and flitting birds.
In this landscape, the three sapient species of Albia toiled to make
themselves a home. Ettins built and dug new homes, norns grew and tended the
trees and plants, and the grendels used their greater poison resistance and
toughness to act as explorers and tasters of new foods. A seaside village,
known to the Albians as SurfSea, appeared in a slowly growing patch of
parkland vegetation. SurfSea was a collection of draughty stone buildings
and caves, piled one on top of the other along a central street. In the
vastness of the wild Albia, the three species huddled together.
It was the middle of summer, and for once the houses did not need heating.
A cooling sea breeze blew inland, rustling the leaves of the saplings in the
parkland.
A young male norn, just old enough to be entering turbulent adolescence,
sat reading a book on a stone balcony overlooking the sea. The wind ruffled
his blond fur, and he frowned as his green eyes tracked over the pages of
the Albian history book.
".. were joined in the first ever marriage ceremony.
The tale of Annie and Chris ends very oddly. Shortly after Annie died
peacefully of old age, Chris disappeared. It is not known what happened to
him. It is one more secret in a story with so many secrets: what was the
virus Annie caught? Why did the Hand become comatose? What drove Llanyb to
madness? The questions are many, the answers few."
The young norn shut the book with a loud clap, and then snarled and threw
it off the balcony. He then sat, head in his hands, and stared out to sea.
Beneath him, the tide crept in over the pebbles, turning the pages of the
book, before claiming it and washing it far out to sea.
***
Five days passed.
Outside of the ring of greenery that surrounded SurfSea, was a cavern not
even the ettins were aware of. It had been empty since this Albia had come
into existence, but now there was a creature in there. Torches on the walls
guttered and popped, casting a dim, flickering light over the stone walls.
An ancient norn lay in a bed in the centre of the cave, almost lost among
the blankets and cushions. His breathing was shallow, and his eyes were
tightly closed.
Suddenly, the norn coughed, and clutched convulsively at the blankets. His
eyes opened, and he glanced sightlessly around before closing them again.
"Why did you bring me here?" he whispered.
"I had to". This voice was not a norn voice- it was deeper, though not as
deep as a grendel's growl. The figure in the bed shivered.
"I'm cold." The claw-like hands grabbed at the blankets, but were too weak
to move them. "Why is it so dark?"
"You lost your sight. You were close to death."
"I know that."
"I had to bring you back. I think you're going to be needed. I've injected
you with telomerase and Life chemical- you'll soon gain back your youth."
"What if I don't want to be young again?" The norn's voice held some
bitterness. "I asked not to be exported. I didn't want to be saved!"
"I'm sorry. I had no choice. Great changes are afoot in Albia. I need you,
Chris."
Chris realised he could see the faintest grey outlines-dim shapes against a
dusty black. One close to him was the Hand, looming over the bed.
"David? You sound so different. I can. hear you." He realised that he had
answered his own question- he could truly hear the Hand, not just 'feel'
what it had just said. He sensed he was hearing the Hand's true voice for
the first time.
"I can see you now." He said, flatly. So many mixed up emotions surged
through him- part of him felt angry at his wishes for a quiet death being
ignored, but he was also relieved to be cheating death, and a little
ashamed.
"Good, the injections are beginning to work. They'll take a few hours to
have their full effect. There's something you need to know." Chris was
surprised to realise he could actually hear the uncertain sympathy in the
Hand's voice. "I exported you from Albia two years ago. This is Albia
version seven."
"Two years?" said Chris, weakly, and then a dagger-like pain hit his chest.
Gasping for breath, he was aware of the hand calling anxiously, but he was
unable to respond. The pain slowly receded, and Chris gulped in air
thankfully.
"I shouldn't have told you so soon!" The Hand wailed. "You need to rest,"
It continued, "We'll speak when you're feeling a little younger."
Chris relaxed into his sickbed. He had learnt a lot about medicine in his
younger days, during the time the Hand had been away. He knew his heart had
just momentarily stopped beating from shock when the Hand had told him the
news. For the first time, he felt truly afraid to die. Twenty generations of
norns had lived since he had been Annie's funeral! To him, it was less than
an hour ago. Now everyone he knew- Annie, David, Fel and Ynlar- were long
dead.
The hand watched Chris carefully from its cloak of invisibility. It saw the
tears start to roll down his cheeks, before he fell into a dream scattered
sleep. It began to wonder if it had done the right thing- this was so cruel
on Chris. He was a survivor, though, and truly, It had no choice, if Albia
was going to prosper under the changes ahead.
***
As time had passed, SurfSea had become more civilised. Gaps in stone walls
had been sealed, so that the houses were warmer in winter, and in the last
few days, colourful designs had appeared on the walls.
Annie was responsible for all the paintings. She was that rare thing among
norns- an artist. Most norns were talented at science, and mathematics was
their playground, but only Annie could paint, out of all 19 creatures in
Albia. Some houses had simple geometric designs, while others had vistas of
landscapes or intertwining designs of plants and animals.
Currently, she was painting one side of her own house. It was one of the
largest in Albia, boasting two stories and a whole three rooms- a downstairs
meeting place, and upstairs her bedroom and a nursery with a joint sunny
balcony overlooking the sea. So many of the norns in Albia had at one time
lived in that nursery, she mused, as little Peter did now. Annie had changed
in her time in version seven Albia. Her long hair was now tied back out of
the way, and she had become fitter and more muscular from hard work. Hard,
yes, but enjoyable, bringing new life into Albia. Brought up by the Hand,
she'd had no younger siblings, and only now had she discovered the joy a
little child could bring into life. In fact, life was good, except, of
course..
"Hey watch where you're going, you fool!" She heard Christopher yell at a
passing grendel, down in the street. Annie sighed. When the baby Chris had
hit adolescence, he'd become moody and withdrawn, as adolescents sometimes
did. She'd shrugged it off, as just part of growing up, but as he'd got
older, he hadn't improved one iota. He'd taken to spending long periods of
time in the parkland, or out in the desert beyond the planted area, doing
what, Annie didn't know. It wasn't until he changed his name to Christopher
that she finally realise what was eating him. Thinking back, she'd realised
that the temper tantrums and sulky moods had started shortly after he'd
found out he wasn't just named after the famous Hand norn, Chris, but
actually was Chris, a carbon copy. The more Annie thought about it, the more
sense it made. He was living in the shadow of a legend, and the hopeful
looks the other norns gave him when anything at all went wrong had slowly
worn him down.
Annie could understand it only too well- her own clone had been as heroic
as Chris, in a quieter way; overcoming her own instincts for the good of
Albia. She had had to put up with the covert glances of other norns, too. It
was worse if she and Christopher were seen together- she could see people
secretively watching them to see if anything romantic was going to happen.
As if she could be interested in a norn she had spoon-fed! She was certain
that Christopher wasn't interested in her, either. In fact, he had been
spending a lot of time with Cathy, recently. At the same time, though, he
reminded her of Chris more with each passing day, and she found herself
missing him terribly. How could it be that she cared more about him now that
he had been dead for generations than she had when he'd been alive?
The grendel Christopher had insulted laughed, and slapped him gently on the
shoulder- gently, that is, for a grendel. The grendels and norns lived in
equal numbers in SurfSea, and Annie had been surprised to find that the
vicious grendels of ancient mythology were nothing of the sort- once you
understood their odd ways. Annie had found them to be likeable, with their
odd mixture of gentleness and agression. Grendel families were constantly
kicking, punching and fighting, but to them it was just part of every day
life. They had soon learnt, after a few broken arms and legs, that norns
were a lot more fragile, and now they treated them like spun glass. However,
slapping a grendel as hard as you could remained the best way to say 'hello'
.
Christopher rubbed his arm, and continued out of her sight. It suddenly
occurred to Annie that he was the same age Chris had been when she had left
version six Albia. Time had certainly passed quickly.
A cold feeling made her look down. Bright red colour was dripping on her
toes from her paint brush. She sighed, shook them off, and went back to her
painting.
Chapter Two: Meetings
Chrstopher look up at his new home with the satisfaction of a job well
done. He admired the carved wooden struts that held the entire structure up
in a tree. It was the first of its kind: make of wood, not stone. He had
designed it himself, admittedly with some help from the ettins. The best
thing about it, though, was that it was far from SurfSea and the other
norns. If he looked back towards the coast, he could just see the crowded
stone towers of that village, where norns and grendels crowded thick.
Christopher shuddered involuntarily. He'd stopped liking the company of his
own species once he had found out who he truly was. The curious looks, the
searching stares- they had all suddenly made sense. He'd been young at the
time- a mere seven days old, but he'd felt a clammy claustrophobia. He'd
instinctively rebelled- acted as irritable and irrational as possible, as if
it would erase all memory of the Hand norn.
He much preferred the company of the ettins and grendels. Grendels always
lived in the present, and didn't judge someone by past events, and the
ettins, well.. the only creature that could understand an ettin's thoughts
would be another ettin. They didn't seem to recognise the idea of
friendship, or any kind of long term relationship. Christopher often
wondered how they managed to breed at all! They were utterly
non-judgemental, because for them there was nothing to judge. They wandered
across the landscape, observing, examining, and above all, building. There
were only three ettins in the world- they did not breed as fast as norns or
grendels.
"Very nice," said a feminine voice behind him. His expression lost its
normal sullen edge, and he smiled as he turned around.
He turned around to see Cathy admiring his new home.
"Practical, too," she continued, "The central tree trunk gives strength,
and the leaves will give shade in summer, but keep off the chill in winter."
Cathy had an ettin's eye for architecture; like him, she had been imported
by the Hand as a baby, but unlike him, she was not entirely nornish. Half
ettin and half norn, she had fine white velvety fur, pupil-less dark eyes,
and shaggy ettin hair. However, her face was the shape of a norn's, and she
was taller than a full grown ettin would have been. Her most unique feature
was undoubtedly the smile that often played around her lips. It was the
secretive, introverted smile of one who knew much about life.
When he had first met her, he had instantly liked her. She was entirely
unique, and that drew him to her. She seemed to be interested in him, too- a
lonely norn that always seem to be fighting an internal battle with himself.
They started to go for walks and have long discussions, and Christopher
began to feel that this was one friendship he never wanted to lose. It was
as if, somewhere along the way, they had been joined by an invisible chord
they both could feel, but never openly acknowledged. Simply knowing she
existed filled him with a breathless joy, and when she smiled at him,
nothing else mattered. Without realising it, or being able to say when it
happened, they had fallen hopelessly in love.
They had exchanged the first, hesitant kisses without truly knowing what
they were doing, unable to resist the flood of new instincts. Then, finally,
there had been that first time, out in the bright sunlight, when the kisses
had led to something more. Chris still trembled at the memory. There had
been many more times they had joined together since, but none had been quite
like that first, tender union of mind and body.
Now, he gathered her into his arms, and she sighed and leaned back into his
embrace.
"I'm glad you like it," he replied, "because.." His voice failed, and he
cleared his throat nervously. Cathy twisted in his arms. They both started
to speak at the same time.
"Christopher."
"Cathy."
Christopher cleared his throat again. Typical! He'd rehearsed this moment
so many times, and now he was making a fool of himself!
"Sorry, after you." He said.
"No, no, it's alright. You first." She said, sounding relieved. Had she got
some bad news to impart? Christopher felt a pang of nervousness.
"I was wondering.." He'd forgotten his words! What was it he had been going
to say? "Oh blast it, it's all gone wrong now! I had so many nice things to
say, and now it's all got jumbled up! Cathy, I wanted to ask you if you
wanted to move in with me, in my new house. I made it, thinking that we
could both live there." He felt her stiffen in his arms, and then she
started to laugh. In his muddled state, he didn't notice that her laughter
was tinged with relief. He hung his head in shame.
"I'm sorry, it was presumptuous of me. I should never have asked."
"Oh no! It's not that!" She twisted from his arms, and kissed him. "I came
to tell you something today, and I didn't know how you'd react." She took
hold of one of his hands, and guided it down to her stomach. There was no
mistaking the small bump there. Christopher gasped.
"I think we'll need to add a nursery, too." She smiled at him, a smile
edged with tears and anxiety. He looked blank with shock for a second, then
smiled warmly at her, blinking away his own tears of relief.
"It's a deal!" he replied. He picked her up in one smooth movement, and
carried up her up into his- no their, treehouse.
There was the sound of giggling inside the house, and then silence
returned.
***
The green ring around SurfSea had now changed to hues of yellow and umber:
the colours of the fast approaching autumn. Leaves fell from the trees, and
long shadows stretched away from Cathy's feet as she walked along the dusty
track to the town. It wasn't a trip she made very often. She tended to
prefer her own company, but she did have friends she liked to visit now and
again.
The sun shone directly into her eyes, and she hissed in irritation. Autumn
may have been one of the prettiest times of the day, but it did make it hard
to see!. She shook her head. Being pregnant was making her irritable, there
was no doubt. Unconsciously, she brushed her hand along her tummy. When she
peered ahead again, she noticed a familiar figure walking down the track in
front of her, silhouetted against the sun. She'd recognise that walk
anywhere. Strange the way the sunlight streaming past made him look so thin.
"Christopher! Wait for me!" She called, and puffed up to join him. Running
took too much energy these days! The figure started, and turned around.
Cathy squeaked in shock, for it was not her Christopher. The norn was very
thin, and older than anyone Cathy had ever seen on this young world. His fur
was almost entirely grey, except for a few blond speckles. His face had a
severe cast to it, which disappeared when he smiled suddenly at her
discomfort.
"I'm sorry, You've mistaken me for someone else. I'm called Chris." He
seemed to be observing her closely- she thought at first he was puzzled by
her strange ettinish looks, but his next words proved otherwise. "Are you
alright? You shouldn't be out here on your own in your condition."
"My..condition?" She asked, momentarily baffled.
"Well, I'd hate to see someone pregnant come to harm so far away from
help." He shrugged.
"How did you know that? It doesn't show yet!" she exclaimed.
Chris looked smug. "I've had a lot to do with norn medicine. You get to
spot the signs. Anyway, you haven't told me your name yet."
"Er.. Cathy. I thought the only norn that had ever healed other norns was.
Oh." She trailed off into an awed silence. "You're the Hand norn?" Chris
rolled his eyes impatiently.
"I hate that title, but I suppose so." Cathy's eyes widened.
"They always said you would return!"
"Who did?"
"Well, everyone. It's said that the Hand norn would return to save us if
danger threatened." She looked around sharply, but the surrounding area held
no obvious peril about to spring out at them.
Chris groaned and hid his face in his hands. "Really? Oh, no, I've been
made into a legend! It's worse than the Hand said it was." He shook himself,
and arranged a sunny expression again. "You're an ettinorn, aren't you?"
"A what?"
"Half ettin, half norn. Fel's second son was an ettinorn." A shadow passed
over Chris's face, and it occured to Cathy that he had lost all his friends,
his son, and even his world during his long sleep. How could anyone cope
with that? Cathy realised, looking at this older norn, just how different he
was to his clone, her lover. There were plenty of signs of past grief on his
face, but none of Christopher's sullen anger. Instead, he had a tired air
about him, as if all the world's troubles rested on his shoulders, which was
more or less true. Cathy suddenly felt very sorry for him.
"I suppose I am then." She said. She suddenly felt shy and a little
embarassed, as if she had pried into this stranger's life a little too
much. "Uh, do you mind if I ask you something?"
"What?"
"Why did you come back?"
Chris laughed bitterly. " I didn't have much choice! The Hand brought me
back, and gave me injections to make me young again." He looked down
ruefully at his grey arms. "Well, youngish. I don't know why he.. I mean,
It, brought me back, though." He looked distant for a few seconds, then
smiled at her. "So, why don't you tell me about yourself? While we walk to
that town over there.".
***
Annie stretched out on her bed, luxuriating in a moment's peace and quiet.
Peter was off with the Hand for lessons, and no one needed her right now. It
would be easy to fall asleep, but she wanted to lie and think lazy thoughts
for a little while first.
She was back in version six Albia, again, in the dry grassland west of
NornTown. It was high summer, and the heat made her pant. However, she was
young, so she was chasing lizards. Currently, she was after a red and black
striped one she had spotted in the long grass. She pounced, but it scuttled
off, as they always did. Laughing, she chased it, backwards and forwards
through the vegetation. Suddenly, she collided with a norn, and they both
went tumbling. Annie had not had much to do with her own species, raised
solely by the Hand as she had been. However, recently, she had been craving
the company of her own kind in a way she didn't fully comprehend.
The norn who had landed on top of her looked stunned and slightly confused.
He looked slightly younger than her- almost a child, still- and had piercing
green eyes.
"Who.. who are you?" He stammered.
"Annie." She replied, suddenly tongue tied.
"I'm Chris." He looked unsure of what to do next.
"Get out of here!" The Hand suddenly appeared, and hit Chris hard. He
tumbled through the air, and landed, unconscious. Annie screamed, and ran
away from the suddenly alien hand. It grabbed hold of her hair, and hoisted
her so high up into the air she could see the whole of NornTown, stretched
out beneath her. Then it let go. Screaming she plummeted towards Albia, hair
streaming out behind her like a pair of ghostly wings..
She woke up with a start, shivering from head to foot. Terrible, awful
dreams! She shook her head irritably, but the sense of danger hung around
her. The Hand had never hurt her- so why should she dream such a thing? It
troubled her more than she cared to admit.
As she became more aware of her surroundings, she realised she could hear
excited voices, both norn and grendel, calling from the street. Puzzled, she
went downstairs to see. The shouting got louder as she reached her front
door, and she cautiously pushed it open to peek out. Outside, a mixed group
of Albians of all species clamoured and shouted, clustered around something
she couldn't see.
"What's going on?" she shouted. A grendel on the edge of the crowd noticed
her, and poked the nearest norns to make them turn around. The noise died
down, and the crowd stood silently, waiting for her reaction. Reaction to
what?
As they parted to let her through, she finally saw the object of all the
attention. An old grey norn stood at the centre of the throng. Slowly, he
turned around. She caught her breath. If she hadn't been so shocked, she
would have noticed that the old norn's face held a similar expression of
astonishment to her's. He was someone Annie would have recognised anywhere.
"Chris? You look so old!" Annie cursed inwardly. That was possibly the
worst greeting ever!
"I am." Chris just smiled tiredly, then shook his head in bemusement. "The
Hand didn't say you were here!"
"Well," she replied, "I am." It was a lame thing to say, but she felt
suddenly tongue tied. "And so are you, already, in a way."
"What?"
"The Hand imported a copy of you as a baby. He's an adult now, and he calls
himself Christopher." Chris' expression suddenly went utterly immobile.
"Really?" he said, stiffly. All the warmth had disappeared from his face as
if by magic. Annie wondered what she had said to upset him so.
"Yes. It'd be interesting for you to meet each other, I think." She looked
around the crowd of staring norns and grendels. "I don't know where he's got
to, at present, though." Actually, she had a very good idea that he was
hiding somewhere, watching all this. That would be just his way. She smiled.
"Well, we haven't said welcome!"
"Thank you. To be honest, I feel a bit overwhelmed." He looked oddly at
Annie. "Very overwhelmed." He repeated.
Christopher peered out of a nearby window, just as Annie had predicted. He
hissed in anger. He was back! Now his life would be worst than ever!
Everyone would be looking backwards and forwards between him and Chris-
unbearable! Annie's interest in Chris was intriguing, though, especially
since he didn't seem to be interested in her. Christopher stifled a sudden
snigger. There was a certain justice in that- it seemed that Annie didn't
measure up to her version six doppelganger, either!
End of part one1.
So, the scene is set, but what's going to happen? You'll have to wait and
see til tomorrow!
jcarrcwalk
"Ok, so you've left your boyfriend for his clone that you raised from a
child?"
Indigo
<lis.m...@shee.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>So, the scene is set, but what's going to happen? You'll have to wait and
>see til tomorrow!
Augh!! No!!
Patience is a virtue that I seemingly lack...
::sighs::
Well anyways, yet another story wonderfully written, Lis. =)
Good job. I anticipate (very very much, heh) the next part.
Indigo
*+*+*+*+*+*
"I never think of the future, it comes soon enough."
-- Albert Einstein
"Eve and guys about castration know."
-- Eve of JRchat
*+*+*+*+*+*
Miranda's Starbucks. Because Indigo recommends it.
*+*+*+*+*+*
Indigo, AGC goo extraordinaire.
High Priestess to the AGC Goddess of the Shee.
ICQ: 1530587
Website: Yeah, someday.
*+*+*+*+*+*
xOtix
thusly:
>After months in writing, I've finally finished and edited it! Can you
>believe it? I'm not sure I can. Anyway, here it is! Sorry about any bizaare
>formatting, but it's cut and pasted from Word :-). The earlier parts of the
>story can be found on my website. This story will be posted in three parts
>over the next three days
>
>Our Present Incarnations: The Sequel to the Chronology series.
>
>End of part one1.
>
>
>So, the scene is set, but what's going to happen? You'll have to wait and
>see til tomorrow!
::lets out a breath:: Whew!! Fabulous, Lis! I'm glad you're not
going to keep us on tenter-hooks for long. Looking forward very much
to tomorrow's installment...
Thanks!
xOtix/Jande Roox/O.krah.dOh
Agc OOC Quotes:
"If you don't like the atmosphere [here]
go breath vacuum!" -Bill Murray
"ARGH! Please edit your posts!" -The Goddess Emy
Lis Morris
jcarrcwalk <john...@rcn.com> wrote in message
news:7pnbt5$k4r$1...@autumn.news.rcn.net...
> Um... This is oddly resembling a Jerry Springer show
>
> "Ok, so you've left your boyfriend for his clone that you raised from a
> child?"
>
>
Heh! Is this a good or a bad thing? <g>
Ping
news:935310040.23428.0...@news.demon.co.uk...
>
> Heh! Is this a good or a bad thing? <g>
>
Well. . . . if it includes a transsexual monkey named Steve who likes
beating people up with a mobile phone, then it's a good thing. But, with
the way British TV companies edit Springer, then it's a bad thing. So yes,
it's a bad thing.
-Ping
http://news-finger.creatureslife.net
Replace nospam with albia for a valid E-mail address
ICQ: 6283750
"He's dead Jim, you get his tricoder and I'll get his wallet!"
How Kim Guan
Lis Morris wrote in message
<935274676.22422.0...@news.demon.co.uk>...
>After months in writing, I've finally finished and edited it! Can you
>believe it? I'm not sure I can. Anyway, here it is! Sorry about any bizaare
>formatting, but it's cut and pasted from Word :-). The earlier parts of the
>story can be found on my website. This story will be posted in three parts
>over the next three days
>So, the scene is set, but what's going to happen? You'll have to wait and
>see til tomorrow!
Ooooh! Cool story!! :o)
Ricardo2000
Great story Lis. I am really looking forward to the next part! After all
those months of teasing me about what will happen, I'll finally find out!
Ricardo Rating: 10/10
--
From Ricar...@freeuk.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Paul's Creatures Gaming Page http://www.ricardo2000.homecreatures.com/
Home of the 'Creatures-Fan' Group We have Creatures Arcade Games,
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xOtix
>
>jcarrcwalk <john...@rcn.com> wrote in message
>news:7pnbt5$k4r$1...@autumn.news.rcn.net...
>> Um... This is oddly resembling a Jerry Springer show
>>
>> "Ok, so you've left your boyfriend for his clone that you raised from a
>> child?"
>>
>>
>
>
>Heh! Is this a good or a bad thing? <g>
Now don't let him sidetrack you Lis, just post the rest of the story!
Pleeeeeease? <g>
Ricardo2000
Ping <Pi...@nospam.demon.co.uk> wrote in message
news:7poh1n$5vl$1...@neptunium.btinternet.com...
>
> Well. . . . if it includes a transsexual monkey named Steve who likes
> beating people up with a mobile phone, then it's a good thing. But, with
> the way British TV companies edit Springer, then it's a bad thing. So
yes,
> it's a bad thing.
Ah Steve! I remember that episode. I'm still having nightmares remembering
that incident with Steve, the mobile phone, and Jerry. Did they ever manage
to get the mobile phone out again?
--
Check it out! New sig!
From Ricar...@freeuk.com
ICQ # is 41092093
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Paul's Creatures Gaming Page http://www.ricardo2000.homecreatures.com/
Home of the 'Creatures-Fan' Group We have Creatures Arcade Games,
Screensavers, COBs, Utilities, Strange Creatures for adoption, Articles,
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Bart, I don't mean to alarm you, but there may be a boogie man or
boogie men in the house! -Homer Simpson
Just remember, that if you're in Cambridge and see a bald, fat,
yellow guy: That's not Toby Simpson or Ben Simpson. It's just
their 2nd cousin Homer. - Mike D (Found on Deja)
Ping
news:BzVv3.4530$4g1.1...@nnrp3.clara.net...
>
> Ah Steve! I remember that episode. I'm still having nightmares remembering
> that incident with Steve, the mobile phone, and Jerry. Did they ever
manage
> to get the mobile phone out again?
>
Next time you see 'Springer, look under his left eye. . . . you'll notice a
small scar where they removed the arial. . . .
-Ping
http://news-finger.creatureslife.net
Replace nospam with albia for a valid E-mail address
ICQ: 6283750
Kylie
Lis Morris wrote:
> After months in writing, I've finally finished and edited it!
Ooh!! Nice story!! Little boo-boo here though:
> She had been 34 days old- ancient indeed for a version six norn.
>
Cut'n'pasted from the end of "Future's Shadow:"
"You mean I'm dead?" asked Annie in surprise.
"That Annie is, now. She died peacefully of old age. You're alive, though."
A growing suspicion formed in her mind. "How long ago was that?"
"You always were bright. 600 days, give or take a few."
Hmm...
>
>
> So, the scene is set, but what's going to happen? You'll have to wait and
> see til tomorrow!
Aww.... :::waits::: :::taps watch::: :::waits:::: :::taps foot:::
:::waits:::...
Kylie
--
"What ARE you guys doing?! Put me down!"
Sotek
>
>
>Lis Morris wrote:
>
>> After months in writing, I've finally finished and edited it!
>
>
>>
>
>
>"You mean I'm dead?" asked Annie in surprise.
>"That Annie is, now. She died peacefully of old age. You're alive, though."
>A growing suspicion formed in her mind. "How long ago was that?"
>"You always were bright. 600 days, give or take a few."
>
>Hmm...
Still works. she just didn't exist for the 600 or so days.
exportation'nstuff, remember?
--
-Sotek
Keeper of the typodemons and bloody chatcarcasses
"What're movies? What's real life? What's sleep?"
My pathetic website: http://stay.at/sotek
"Thats for me to know and you to beat me up untill I tell you."
"No fair! You have gills!"
Madness takes its toll. Please have exact change.
Wibble
Lis Morris
Kylie <schaf...@uswest.net> wrote in message
news:37C06A11...@uswest.net...
>
>
> Lis Morris wrote:
>
> > After months in writing, I've finally finished and edited it!
>
>
> >
>
>
> "You mean I'm dead?" asked Annie in surprise.
> "That Annie is, now. She died peacefully of old age. You're alive,
though."
> A growing suspicion formed in her mind. "How long ago was that?"
> "You always were bright. 600 days, give or take a few."
>
> Hmm...
Nope, she'd lived 34 days, then 600 days passed, then she was imported into
albia seven. All logical ;)
Bean
The return of one of the most celebrated fanfics of our time! And boy, did you
whiz-bang it. Keep it up, dove.
Bean
"I can look at naked people!"
-Caitlin
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