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  1. #1
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    Heads up laughter!

    Faces flickered in the light of the campfire, faces that had more meaning to Leajyne now than her own life had held bare months ago. She sat up straight and scanned the shifting darkness,
    “ Ferelith.”
    Alize leaned forward, her eyes, dark as a lightening splintered oak, snapped with curiosity. She glanced at Leajyne and eased her bare feet as close to the embers as she dared.
    “ Think something happened? I mean, even the most careful are caught, even Ferelith, chancing a mishap that many times...well, we should wait a bit more, don’t you think?
    Leajyne gave a little half smile to the whispering twelve year old. She was beginning to become more comfortable with the girl and her exuberant spirits.
    “ We’ll wait. the princess brings tidings, though good or bad, I cannot say.”
    “There’s been nary a word from her for days,” Li chirped unexpectedly from the depths of the woolen blanket snugged up to her chin, “I could climb a tree” she offered happily. Her Forest Gnome curls bouncing with an unfelt wind. “But it's too dark.”
    Leajyne sank back into her hooded cloak like her soul sank away from human scrutiny, and quietly puzzled the knot holding the top of their sack, her fingers deftly maneuvering the contents, searching for a certain smooth familiar object. Dirt and woody grit scraped her fingernails, and the shadowy recesses finally yielded her father’s linden flute.
    She lifted it slowly to her lips and gently, softly, as if treading on uncertain waters, began to blow.
    Li and Alize looked up in consternation at the unwary sound, but as the mourning, lilting haunt crept through the branches of the secluded cove, the two looked at each other in wonder.
    A wind picked up from the south, sending warmer rivulets of breeze through the camp, Leajyne’s dark hair danced as she stood, her hood falling back, her gray eyes turned to black diamonds in the light.
    They knew that their friend was half-Elven, but they had not truly known it as they both began to grasp, now, as the very forest seemed to come in from the background to dance, as the lyrical quality of the notes seem to echo with a young maiden’s voice.

    Cold blows the wind to my true love,
    Gently drops the rain.
    I’ve only ever had but one true love,
    And in the greenwood he lies slain.
    Cold blows the wind.

    8 __________________________________________________ _________

    Chapter the first.

    “Oy! I says, out of the way, stupid wench!”
    Ferelith bit her tongue hard to keep back a retort, being the last thing she wanted right now was to draw undue attention to herself. She grabbed the edge of her dark cape out of a hungry sheep-mouth as her leather clad feet hustled her out of the way of the bilious herdsman and his flock.
    The young girl looked of about ten years, with a bit of upturned nose, waving red hair that was very dirty, and freckles that looked as if some cook had upset his cinnamon pot on her mischievous face. But right now her expression was one of intense disgust, fading quickly to a hard solemnity that made her look a great deal older.
    “Move it! Make way -you filthy peasants, scramble yer plaguey hides somewhere else before ya’ lose them!”
    Dust careened out of the street as a knight called brusquely from his perch on a gasping horse, and the thunder of hooves and iron-rimmed wheels announced the arrival of some great lord or lady perhaps. The late evening sun would have made gold flashes off the ornate scrollwork into Ferelith’s snapping blue eyes, but as soon as the tumult had started, she with a wild look over her shoulder, dove into the Crackenberry Inn.
    The inn was smoky, and Princess Ferelith of Velath was ready for the promise of concealment. She started forward, but a hulk of a Tinker suddenly slid his groaning chair back, right into her shin. Her eyes went wide. “Mmmph!”
    “Benedict, la-lass, ‘at a maiden like you doin’ here?” He leered at her, his pimply face shiny with sweat.
    Ferelith backed away nervously into a table, “My business is my own. Go back to your ale- smells as old as you look.”
    “Oh ho, Better get away from that wench, Jopet, she may bite!” The innkeeper called out amid husky laughs from the other patrons.
    “Not till I teach this insolent some respect!” He raised a dirty paw the size of a young suckling, ready and willing to box her ears.
    She thought quickly, glancing through the smoke toward the alley door, wondering maybe, if she could just...
    A firm hand landed on her shoulder. “She’s with me.”
    Ferelith didn’t move, her breath quickened at the strangely familiar voice, and noticed the brute seemed to immediately lose his enthusiasm. The others guiltily turned back to nursing their tankards.
    “Come Ferelith” The hand on her shoulder became an arm propelling her to the back-most corner of the den. The rough bench against the wall invited her to sit, and she sighed inwardly, her aching feet finally receiving some measure of relief.
    The man who had rescued her was studying her as intently as she was, him. He reached forward and brushed the copper hair from her face.
    “Your High- No, Ferelith. Seth Logan, at your service. ” He peered up at her, waiting for recognition.
    She almost smiled, Seth was so gentle when it suited him; his blond hair streaked with white from the sun, now dark beneath a black cloak. Eyes, crinkled at the corners from smiling and squinting, straight nose, and a bruise under his left eye. He crouched there, so worried, and trying not to show it, that Ferelith relented. He grinned as her arms went around him in a tight hug.

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    “I’ve been spying on my Uncle Baroak, I overheard him discussing the unrest between the kingdoms, that, possibly, there may be some displays of might on the part of King Jerome and Queen Elothionel to deter- um, something about the unrest in Lucif'alagor.” Ferelith crouched lower behind the peddler’s cart, the rough stones grating against her backbone, “Oh Seth, I can hardly believe it now, but I am certain that I heard it- they spoke of a Dwarven princess who had been stolen away by the sorcerers....and no one was would rescue her because of, of political tension.” The last words came out in a rush as she struggled to hang onto her calm. Her toes were beginning to tingle, and the young Elf was taking his time thinking her words over.
    If only she had been able to hear more, to know if the kidnapped girl had indeed been their friend Kay; but they had almost found her against the door as it was, if they had...
    “Well, I think it’s safe to assume that something foul is up- your Uncle is an evil man.” He glanced down at her exhausted expression, “ Melamin, you must be worn out coming so far, so, then it is a good turn that I happen to have, uh, acquired a mount. The way to your band?”
    Ferelith glanced into the muddiness of the back alley and straightened, “Of course, We must make haste- where is that horse of yours?
    Seth gave her a crooked grin and proffered his arm. Shoving him seemed like the sisterly thing to do, so she did, right in the middle of his rapscallion chest.
    “What was that for?”
    “You being you, Seth Logan.”

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    “We’ll need to walk it from here.”
    Seth Logan stood on the edge of Death forest, his face set in a scowl shadowed by a tricorn that was obviously a more permanent resident of his person.
    Ferelith sighed.
    "Indeed. ...I vow, it does look uncanny in this light.” she felt inclined to whisper, the sound of scraping branches raising goose-bumps on her arms.
    He shrugged "No more than a night in the fogs of North sea."
    "Leajyne said to find them in the last grove."
    "What're waiting for?
    Ferelith looked significantly at the unbridled horse, "Do we want pursuers?”
    Seth rolled his eyes, “Brat.” He slung the pile of leather tack under the bushes, and watched mournfully as she gave the roan a whack on the quarters.
    “And just when I was getting acquainted.”
    Had she done the right thing? Seth was bound to get into trouble again if he helped them, but there was no human way to dissuade him from it now... she bent down, tying the lace on her boot, hoping the pirate hadn’t noticed her unease.
    “Follow me, there is a path, I think- but not to where we’re going.
    “Ay ay Princess.”
    He swung ahead of her into the forest, “Yo ho, Yo ho...”
    She wrinkled her nose, “Men.”

    The forest closed in around them, Ferelith’s boots already slogging with dampness, the smell of leaf mold permeating the air. Light almost gone, they breathed in velvety blackness for an hour till Seth stopped.
    “Can you find the lamp?”
    “In the blanket?” she winced as the knot dug into her shoulder, "'Cause I don't think I can get this undone; where'd you learn to tie it anyway?"
    Seth tripped back toward her and started loosening the makeshift strap, "Made it up."
    She scowled, she couldn't see a inch in front of her face but she could see his smirk jouncing around derisively over her left shoulder.
    “My pleasure lady.”
    “Light it man.”
    “By my troth, the lady wishes a light.”
    “Seth Logan, be serious.”
    “As you command.”
    His face suddenly flared up in the light, the lantern held at head-height; blinding the girl, a look of real irritation convincing the elf to discard his waiting grin.

    Seth tugged his sweaty tunic away from his neck, the black silk ragged in a dozen unfortunate places. He glanced back at the girl, a slow smile creeping over his face at her half-closed eyelids. She was in hardly better shape than himself; over-dress had misplaced a lace, her leggings were slowly starting to droop, slide down to her boots. Some branch had slapped her, leaving a dark streak prancing across her forehead.
    “Forsooth, you look a sight.”
    “What of it?”
    “Ferelith, you need a rest, sit here.” He knocked the scaly fungus off a log and shaking out his cloak, flung it over.
    She almost protested; opened her mouth to say that “time was of the essence” ; then shut it again and stumbled wearily to lean against his shoulder.
    “We’re almost there dear; brace up, you’re a good mate, nary a word of complaint the whole time.” He put his arm warmly around her shoulder.
    “Unlike you?” Ferelith lifted her face, the light from the lantern seeping slowly into her vision.
    “Unfortunately, my mother-
    “What’s that?”
    Seth jolted upward, “By the saints.”
    “Its our signal.” Ferelith leapt up, swinging his cloak at him.
    Seth Logan winced slightly as the wool slapped him in the face; reminding him freshly about-
    “Come on, lazy boy! We need to follow the sound.”
    He lurched after Ferelith, pausing to swoop up their lantern; his long legs enveloping the distance. He regretfully remembered that the tallest gets all the spider webs.
    Ferelith darted into the clearing, leaving branches and leaves snapping behind her.

    Leajyne let the flute drop into her lap and looked up smiling, “You made it.”
    “Ferelith, what happened to you?”
    “It was Leajyne’s idea, to use the music.”
    Ferelith knelt by Leajyne and they embraced as Alize and Li laughed with relief.
    “Isn’t anyone going to give me a hug?”
    “Seth.” Alize glanced up at the disheveled young man, then bent forward to disturb the fire, her cheeks flushed. She darted a look at Ferelith, “You brought him?”
    "He rescued me." she said lightly, "I've already told him my news." Her face sobered and she explained her message to the three.
    Leajyne sat silent when she finished, brow disclosing her concentration. "We must go."
    Seth reacted, "Are you crazy? Just like that, go to Lucif'alagor," he snorted, "Don't lose your heads."
    "Captain! Our friend is in peril; you are no coward, I know this."
    Seth gazed steadily at Alize, rubbing, up and down, a soft rag on the burnished snout of the black-powder pistol he always kept. "No one is telling you to abandon her. But the stretch there is longer than you or I could sail in a month." He glanced toward the half-elf, "What say you?"
    Leajyne stared off into the trees, "He tells true, the way is long; we have no horses, and no clear idea of the sorcerers plan- is it ransom? I don't know, maybe they want her for some other reason. But, one thing is clear." She looked Seth in the eyes, "We must remain banded."
    Seth felt somewhat warm as she grasped his and Li's hand; she was so changed since their first meeting. Her eyes, thought still sometimes guarded, were no longer hollow with bitterness, no longer did she lash out in self protection at every word. He watched her as she bent her head, smiling at something Alize has said. Did she disdain him as she had?
    "Oh, yes?"
    Alize stood up slowly and spread her hands, " This is my idea: We secure your sailing ship from whoever stole it from you this time;" She rode over Seth's mutter, "Sail to the Dark Bars, scrape up a bit of my Father's treasure; and locate Grivosa, he always knows everyone's secrets. It is universally concluded that, that we must know Queen Lucifine’s, and her sorcerer’s intentions having to do with our friend, princess Kay.”
    Li mock applauded at her bow. “Lovely idea, ‘cept for the part about the boat;" she turned to Seth, "where is it?”
    "Rub it in.” he glared at the girls. “What do you have against me?”
    Leajyne shrugged, “Nothing. But it has become a habit.”
    Ferelith reached tiredly for another strip of meat, speaking around a mouthful, “I think we need to hasten this on a bit, I didn’t rush here to sleep.”
    Leajyne stood up, “Then, Let us go.” she rubbed her backside, “Anyways, this trysting place is too hard.”

    As they gathered up their things and smothered the fire, Leajyne kept glancing at the young elf. The bruise on his cheekbone certainly roused some interesting questions about this latest mishap. She wondered what trouble he had landed in. Was he pursued? Maybe whoever had intended the blow was satisfied just to be in possession of the schooner. She knew, as she admitted to herself that she had not wanted to believe; that Seth Logan was a friend, no matter how cloudy the situation might appear.
    She started when Li pulled on her fingers, “Come on Jyne, they already went!”
    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    They walked single file; She padded on the wet ground silently, her eyes closed to the futile attempt of sight in the darkness. It made hearing even more acute, elm leaves slapping her face were only an irritant.
    Leajyne made a small rustling sound as she pulled her cloak in tighter; Alize jounced along in front of her, trying to go soft but not succeeding entirely.
    “Everyone alive?” Seth’s voice came quietly from the front.
    Ferelith snorted, “Just so.”
    Alize went up beside the pirate as the trail widened. Leajyne walked just a little faster, losing her concentration in trying to hear their words. Why did Alize’s liking Seth make her so uncomfortable? What of it if Seth had taken the girl in when her father was murdered; he would consider her a little sister,--- Before she could react it was too late, the feeling of something large loomed in front of her face and she collided into it.

    “Now tell me, when is it that a Ranger’s daughter runs into a tree?”
    “She’s got a goose egg all right.”
    “It’s completely unlike her.”
    “Well, we have to wake her up.”
    “I’ll fetch some water.”
    Leajyne opened her eyes, someone had lit the lantern and it cast yellow on their worried and amused expressions. She was momentarily surprised to see concern in Seth’s eyes. “You’d better not.” She pressed her palm against the rough bark of the oak, “And turn out that light, someone might see it.”
    Seth stepped forward quietly and slid his arm around her waist; lifted her to a standing position. “Are you fine?”
    “I just tripped.” She was uncomfortably aware of his closeness, “We need to move on to reach Irondock in time.”
    Seth met her eyes and nodded, he looked at the others, “Show a leg everyone, she’s right, there isn’t much time.”
    Hoods pulled high again, they set out, pace quickened against the approach of dawn. Seth kept close to Leajyne; she looked up at him as he waited for her yet again. “What is it?”
    “I was, uh, thinking.”
    He blushed, “Truly, I was thinking on when we met.”
    She looked down at her scuffed, muddy shoes, “So?”
    Seth winced at her cold tone, “You aren’t going to take this wrong?”
    He took a deep breath, grabbed her by the hand; ducking under a branch that drooped indistinct in the false dawn.

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    Seth stepped cautiously, placing each foot as softly and carefully as he could.
    The Dock, built years ago by the ancestors of the village, was copper colored now; it's iron surface covered in rust. Originally built to deter pirates who habitually burned the structure, it was now only a useful monument to the people’s resilience. None of this mattered to Seth at the moment, he was concentrating on the schooner anchored directly offshore.
    “Seth.” A frantic whisper came from behind the tavern; where the others had waited.
    “What?” He paused.
    “Someone’s coming.”, Leajyne halfway stepped from behind the wall, “Get back!”
    Seth felt a breeze on his neck. He instantly dropped to a crouch and rolled away as a cutlass blade made a hissing circuit where his neck had been.
    “Nice way to greet-” He jumped backward as the man slung his weapon again. Seth spun around and jumped across the brackish water; almost losing his foothold on the slimy deck of the fishing boat.
    He had his pistol out and aimed at the pirate before anyone could move, “Your Captain.”
    The man’s greasy black hair strung over his face as he spat, “No elf’s goin’ to give me orders.” Another man stepped ponderously forward. “Let’s slit the cur’s belly.”
    Seth could name every one of the double-crossing seamen; his vision began to fill with red as he remembered the condition his ship was obviously in. No-wait, stay calm. he reminded himself, and you’ll get out of this alive. he grasped his weapon in a sweaty palm, and watched his assailants steadily. They reeled and bumped one another, a visit from the alehouse evident. He took a deep breath, The smell is what I really need to worry about. Was there a way out of this? He only hoped the girls had escaped.
    “What will you get out of killing me?”
    “Hear him, Bill, he wants to know what-”
    “Shut up!” The greasy buccaneer’s snarled, “Come on men, we’ll skin this knave.” He brandished his cutlass; then whirled around and grasped a handful of the pudgy man’s shirt. “You first!”
    The fat pirate yelped as he was flung bodily off the dock. He landed clumsily in front of Seth Logan.
    “Now what?” Seth stepped forward querulously.
    The pirate hitched up his filthy breeches and spat, “I’ll kill you.” He swung at the young man.

    to be continued

    Eat. Sleep. Draw.

    Its a way of life.

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  3. #2
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    Dec 2004
    East Texas
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    Continued a bit....

    Seth looked regretfully at the prone body, “A crying shame, wasting shot like that.”
    “Why, you little-” Seth drew his cutlass; his former first mate spit again, “You’ll wish you were never born!”
    “I wished that once-” He ducked and met the man’s blade with his own, “When I was sitting on that rocky beach-” The pirate lurched and swung again, forcing Seth back toward the edge, “Where I was left-
    Seth rapidly parried his wild lunges, “When you mutinied!”
    He started to edge back; a rivet caught the heel of his boot, "Oomph!", he sprawled out, stunned.

    The blade at his throat was uncomfortable, he had to admit. But what galled him most was that these scurvy-ridden, low bellied, filthy, stinking pirates were to be the ones to kill him. Seth ignored the
    monologing and stared thoughtfully over the pirate's head. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10....
    Eat. Sleep. Draw.

    Its a way of life.

  4. #3
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    Nov 2004
    New Haven, CT
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    My work: [link]

  5. #4
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    Sep 2005
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    i want Fabio on the cover of this

  6. #5
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    Dec 2004
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    This was for a specific person to look at, no one pay it ANY mind,.....please.
    Its horribly rough, adverby, and overdone in spots, hey! its a rough first draft!
    anyways I don't care if people think its silly, I will get better, this was my first a novel beginning... *pulls out hair*
    Eat. Sleep. Draw.

    Its a way of life.

  7. #6
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    Here another bit of my genius...another story I started....its a hobby...

    A blipblorpigglesnorp Story. By, All Who Participate.

    Aaaaaaaoooooooggggggaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!

    Hyacinth blinked sleepily, rolled over, and grumbling, threw back the covers.
    “Stinker-orpgut of an alarm clock”
    She slammed the 'off' button, what I do to get up on time....

    Stumbling out of bed, she quickly pulled on a lime-green tunic, fastening the leather belt, she wondered what could occur on this dreary day.
    You never know in this kind of place ...There is no way I’m going to forget my purse again....what a nightmare.

    Da da da da! Ta Da!

    Enter if you dare into the haphazard world of Hyacinth Knugles, living on the anti-reality planet of Wippledom.

    She stepped out of her 1001st floor apartment, heading straight to the up-down machine; Hyacinth banged the faulty sliding doors.

    “Aw, Open up dumko thing! You had better not make me late again!”

    She stomped in frustration; the floor wobbled, and the doors slid open with a satisfying ‘Belch!’

    Quickly diving for the opening, Hyacinth caught, out of the corner of her eye, Khris Corklin striding down the hall. She grimaced, Not him.. Please, not today.

    He was, frankly, a self-absorbed jerk. Not even the fact that he was the top heartthrob celebrity from “All-Purpose Hero” could assuage the friction of his real personality.

    It’s really hard to believe all those feather-brained girls, just going crazy over that awful sop...

    Her hand quickly found the DOWN button. Pushing it with all her might, she prayed it would work without the usual 15-minute delay. It didn’t.

    With a wild glance around the battered cubicle, the desperate, frantic look on her face grew. She suddenly spotted the emergency door; badly rusted, and probably stuck, but she decided it was worth a try. Bracing herself against the floor with her sneakers she grasped the wobbly handle and tugged. Nothing. Again, Nothing. Hyacinth was aware of the approaching clomp, clomp, clomp, when a faint, barely intelligible line of writing arrested her attention. She stooped forward. P-------U------S-----H! With that revelation she ran to the opposite wall, turned and with two springs launched her shoulder into the door. SPROING!!!!

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The feeling of having been scrubbed with a floor brush. Hyacinth slowly opened her eyes and with that action, moaned.

    “Oh..... I hurt”

    She carefully eased to a sitting position as her back, elbows, and other various parts flamed with a million Zillion needles, red hot and excruciating. Her whole body seemed rubbed raw. Once she processed this, and found the information disagreeable, her eyes squinted in the dim light of a tiny portal about 20 feet overhead. Where in the blaxes was she?
    Carefully, Hyacinth turned, and to her horror, realized that the long chute she was gazing at was what she had come down. She must have been knocked unconscious when she banged through the blasted hatch. Which meant....

    “That’s wonderful Hya, you just started off your day with a joyride down 1001 stories of rusty pipe....Now you just better have some idea how to get out of this mess”

    She grinned to herself at the idea of Mr. Hotshot getting the same treatment, but her glee faded as her brain recognized the one way to escape. A tiny maintenance hatch with the words “Do Not Exit, For Millionaires Only, Beware!”

    A tiny slot was inscribed, “Insert One Million Dollars”

    DA duh, Da duh daduhdaduhdaduh............... To be continued.

    Deep in the bowels of Trivialus, Wippledom’s capital city, Gideon Norse sludged morosely through a sewer highway. He had just put in a long nights work at the molecular waste plant and sweat squished miserably inside his rubber wading boots. Gideon was about to thumb an anti-grav Taxi when a large viewer came to life with a crackling sound and several dozen people turned with interest to see what had merited bringing low-level tech online. Gideon wasn’t really listening, he was just starting to think about how he could adjust that piece of junk for better reception when a blared message startled him out of his reverie,

    “Attention! Tech needed to rescue Billionaire heartthrob Khris Corklin from his imprisonment on high-level Plaza! This is some geek’s lucky break! Are you tired of the sewer? Is life getting you down? This is the chance of a lifetime, Have a Great Day!!!”

    “Oh brother, like they expect me t’ believe that’?” Gideon shook his head disgustedly, “ An’ even after I paid a months wage to buy that sluggy employment contactor! Nah, just face it kid, you’re a sewky for life.”

    He reached a stained brown hand into the front pocket of his orange vest and pulled out a small, battered electronic pad with several gray push-buttons and tiny view-screen. The face was blank, but then he hit it sharply against a rusting strut and it chirped pathetically.

    “No new employment plans available to your position G-i-d-e-o-n -N-o-r-s-e.”

    If I ever get my hands on that skulking weasel of a-

    “Processing New information,......................Please wait.....”

    Gideon looked up sharply, “What?”

    “ A temporary contract has been located for a highly innovative tech to repair the Plaza’s main elevator, if you wish to be considered for this position press one... If you wish to speak to an employment representative, press two....If you would like to decline press three......To forward this notice to customer #3098.5348 press 4....If-

    With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Gideon Norse pressed one.

    To be continued.

    (Kyle)lander B. Z. Xerxes wore a very delighted grin as his prototype SkySkimmer -the Mayday IX- soared through the skies of Trivialus -or, more correctly, lurched on its path about six feet off of the ground,- the perfect height for the careening craft’s forward rotor to do some serious hair-trimming.

    “For once it looks like she’s going to work.” he remarked happily, Although his elation was short lived. the delight on his face quickly turned to panic as his left turn did absolutely nothing to ensure the relative safety of the crowd of protesters up ahead.

    Screaming in terror right along with the crowd. Kyle gripped the useless controls as the ships forward blades made confetti of pickets ‘degrading the current trend for gene borrowing‘, -as well as ensuring a hot new trend in hair-styling.

    The ship lurched as it sucked a very fat french poodle out of her matching owners arms, leaving Kyle wishing he had never even left bed this morning, as rather small chunks of Fifi sprayed into the air, Dousing ship, pilot and crowd alike.

    “Sorry about that!” he hollered back at the now bald woman. “An accident entirely!”

    Kyle pushed as many buttons as he could reach, -completely ignoring the futility of his actions- in a an attempt to avoid the now looming structure of Trivialus Central-Main Plaza. He frantically looked for assistance., neglecting the fact that no one on the ground could possibly help him now.

    Still. He spotted one likely looking fellow that was heading for the front door, and as he whipped overhead, pleaded for assistance in the time-honored fashion, Which is to say, screaming “Help” whilst waving his arms frantically.

    Realizing that such actions are futile, he turned back to the Plaza, just in time to crash through the window. The last thing he saw was the gasping face of Khris Corklin not two feet in front of him, as the Mayday IX finally decided to go the way of its predecessors. And blow sky-high.......

    To be continued.

    Gideon stumbled across a fat man's foot, "Sorry 'bout that.", he grimaced.
    His confusion renewed when he glanced up at the towering Plaza building. Someone jostled him in the ribs en route to the front door, "Hey! Watch it."
    He was rubbing his side and pacing in front of the Cathedral fountain, considering the best evasive action to squeeze through the heyday, when a deafening KaLunk! KaLunk! jerked his attention to the sky behind him. "Holy Mackerel!"
    With one step he jumped over the crumbling fountain, rolled and came up in time to witness what appeared to be the obliteration of law and sanity.

    There was a horrendous explosion as the flying machine found a seat in the Plaza’s main dining hall.
    Gideon blinked, his mouth wouldn’t seem to close so he stood there for three minutes gawping like a fish.
    People ran, screaming, away from the destruction, swirling around him as he stood there motionless. He blinked again as the noise and debris
    Eat. Sleep. Draw.

    Its a way of life.

  8. #7
    Join Date
    Dec 2004
    East Texas
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    My brother wrote the parts with
    Eat. Sleep. Draw.

    Its a way of life.

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