------------------Sunday, July 10th------------------------------ ----------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Sun, 10 Jul 1994 09:28:35 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKwars2: Just a' lookin' for a home Small hours of Sunday, July 10th, a street in Toronto: Lisa looked over her shoulder one last time. She had rounded the corner from LaCroix's apartment building. As far as she could tell no one was following her. Better put the gun back in her handbag before Murphy's law caused a police car to prowl past and spot it. Canada's gun laws were extremely strict, and she lacked the skill with which Alma had hypnotically dissuaded the cop earlier. Had it really been just eight hours ago? It seemed a lifetime. Perhaps it was. Cousin Lisa's lifetime, anyway. Lisa shivered, although the Toronto night was warm and muggy. Trust her to follow her impulses straight out of the frying pan into the fire. No longer a Cousin, no longer infatuated with LaCroix, she was as unfamilied now in this subworld as in mundane life. Would the Die-Hards have her back? She'd been a Die-Hard before and she *had* continued secretly researching for Nat in her library's unusually strong occult collection in Rare Books. Maybe the Natpack? But much as she admired and respected Nat, Lisa wasn't sure she really belonged in it. For one thing, there'd been too many times when she would have told Nick in words of one syllable not to take his angst out on her. She turned another corner and headed east. Did the Toronto subway run this late? She couldn't remember. Oh, well, *solvitur ambulando.* The Latin tag surfaced from the grab bag of her mind: "It is solved by walking." Should she go and wake up Don Bassingthwaite? No, he was sitting out this war, and it wasn't fair to put him in the line of fire if LaCroix recovered from the Polidorian collywobbles more quickly than she anticipated. Not to mention that she'd never tried trespassing on Don's good nature in person in the middle of the night. He must have a temper somewhere. Oh dear, was that another street she'd crossed without waiting for the light? Tanya Huff was right. They didn't call this city Toronto the Good for nothing. She hadn't seen a single car. Not the FoD's, not with the allergy to garlic that had made it so easy to sympathize with Larry after his turn. She hoped Larry had carried out his intention of running for cover if she distracted LaCroix, but with his tendency to immobilize himself in contemplation of programming problems at the worst possible moments, Larry's whereabouts were anybody's guess. Let's see: was Gateway Lane to the left or to the right? Lisa had an almost supernatural lack of any sense of direction. Might as well go right, if only for the symbolism. She wouldn't make a good Knightie: it might be too tempting to give Nick the swift kick in the pants which she sometimes thought Natalie should prescribe. Good! Lisa recognized the name on the street sign. Gateway was only a couple of blocks away. The ghost of a laugh crossed her lips at the idea of trying the Ravenettes. Janette had never actually attacked her, but the two of them together invariably reminded bystanders of a pair of cats in unclaimed territory. Wait a minute. Cats? If the FOSsiLs got back into the fray, perhaps Sidney's was the proper faction for an incorrigible cat person. She didn't know if any of the Feline Faction would be at Nick's loft, but maybe that was where she'd settle in. 101 Gateway Lane was across the street now. Lisa squared her shoulders. Had they persuaded Nick to turn John Dencoff? Please let it be so! Lisa hadn't heard of the attack until after LaCroix had forced the doorknob of an absent neighbor's apartment and set Larry to work resetting his accounts at Ontario Hydro and the other utilities. Fleetingly, she wondered just how old LaCroix really was. She hadn't even been able to guess at some of the languages he'd cursed Larry in for bothering to argue with the credit departments instead of simply hacking into the computers. One of the other Cousins had casually mentioned that John had been murdered merely for displaying a little creativity about Hazel the Rabbit. Lisa had forced herself to laugh, but at the first possible moment she had crept out to the park where the body had been left. A new spasm of nausea passed over her at the memory of Lacroix's sally. John hadn't been in the park. Margaret had been a little shaken herself, enough to let the location slip. A trail of blood had petered out in the direction of Nick's loft. Please, please let him have made it there in time! Here was the intercom. Lisa bit her lips and pressed the button. "Nick, it's Lisa McDavid. Please, may I come up? I really did it. And besides, I've brought back your gun." Lisa McDavid, unaffiliated d020214@univscvm.csd.scarolina.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 08:47:15 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKWars2: Lisa finishes what Alma has be-gun Just after Sharon Himmanen's arrival at Nick's loft: "What?" No doubt about it, Nick had just produced a yelp even if the Knighties would prefer to think of him simply as shouting. "What do you mean my gun?" Nat, following as usual calmly in the wake of Nick's agitation, walked over to the intercom. "Come on up, Lisa." The elevator opened and Lisa, in tears, fell into Nat's arms. The doctor patted her shoulder. Glaring at Nick, Nat said, "Come on, Nick, let's leave the snarls to LaCroix, ok? Lisa, I'm going to tell them." The librarian nodded assent. Natalie continued, "Lisa has been working with me all along, even at the height of her connection with LaCroix. The University of South Carolina has a strange collection of rare books and items on the occult. If you remember, that was why she was attacked in the first war." Nick stood in front of the two women. "For the record, I've known about this all along. It wasn't until Nat explained to me about Polidori's Syndrome that I agreed to let Lisa become involved with LaCroix. But, Lisa, what is this about my gun? It's right over here -- Ohmigawd!" Another yelp/shout, depending on your orientation. Nick stared at the place on the counter where the police special had been. Wincing at the number of decibels which were assaulting her ears, Lisa shoved her oversized handbag at Nick. "Alma said you'd sent it to me in case the Cousins tried to stop me." Natalie interrupted, "You really did it? Our emergency plan?" "In spades," Lisa told her. "Old White-Hair's probably still screaming even as we speak. He's always been greedy; he got two gulps." She shivered and almost fell. Nat said sharply, "Nick!" The detective hastily put the gun down (this time in his line of sight) and caught Lisa before she hit the ground. Nick set her down, unconscious, on the sofa where John had been. Nat picked up her medical bag and hurried over. "Is she dead?" Sharon Himmanen asked. Her tone could best be described as inscrutable. Janette looked up from verbally lashing Alma. "Of course not! Oh, that's right, you can't hear. She's got a heartbeat and she's breathing." She turned back to Alma, in French. Even the non-Francophones understood some of the words, such as "imbecile." At the sofa Natalie pulled an afghan up over Lisa and motioned to Scottie. "Get something with a high sugar content from the FoDs' supplies for her will you, Sharon? Nick, how much is a couple of gulps?" "For LaCroix? Maybe two pints." He transferred the gun to its holster and began to buckle it on. "Ok, then, she'll be all right. We'll just let her rest until she's up to eating." --------------------------------------------------------------- Lisa McDavid, unconscious and unaffiliated d020214@univscvm.csd.scarolina.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 19:22:22 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK Wars 2: Meeting the Gang [part 1/2]----------------------- Meeting the Gang Sunday, early morning "Well, this is it!" Jennie looked up at the buzzer uncertainly and wondered if she would be getting in over her head, but she had sent a message to Valerie the night before and received no answer. The last thing Valerie had said was to meet at Nicks loft. There _had_ been a message from Tanaquil this morning that she was in as a bartender at the Raven but that would be closed for the day. For lack of anything better to do, Jennie decided to head for the loft and try to connect with whatever Natpackers were there. Resolutely she reached to press the buzzer. A weary sounding Natalie answered and buzzed Jennie in when she identified herself. The scene that greeted her in the apartment was vaguely reminiscent of the last day of a con. Giving Natalie a hug by way of greeting, she realized that Valerie and Nick were the only two other people in the loft she recognized. Actually, she was pretty certain that was "Cousin" Lisa over there on the couch - shed seen pictures of her - but what was she doing here?!? She turned to Nick, who looked distracted and *very* tired. "Sorry to pop in on you like this, but this was where Id been told to meet everyone. I thought it was best to look here first. Anyhow, its really nice to meet you!" <_Really_ nice> she thought, "Jennie!" Valerie cut in, "I thought you were supposed to come in Friday. What happened?" Amazingly, Valerie still seemed to be possessed of a boundless store of energy despite the travel to get here and being up all night, from the looks of things. Jennie filled the group in on the investigations of the two FBI agents, adding that she thought they must still have poor Brian in custody. She added that Agent Mulder seemed to have an avid interest in the paranormal, remembering the magazine. "So what's been happening up here?" she asked, and Valerie took her off to fill her in on events. ----- Jennie jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com --- This is war, not agriculture. --- [end of part 1/2]----------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 10:41:14 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKWars2: Abrogating the Abarat "She's coming round." Nat checked Lisa's pulse. The librarian opened her eyes and tried to sit up. Sharon Scott, true fellow Southerner, had rummaged through the FoDs supplies and come up with a chocolate moon pie and an RC Cola. Natalie barely restrained her. "You keep your head down. Here, Scottie, sit down on the sofa and feed them to her." The rest of the room continued buzzing -- until suddenly Sharon Scott said sharply, "Does LaCroix know that?" In the suddenly attentive silence, Lisa answered weakly. "I don't know. Probably not, because I don't think he's ever tried it." "What hasn't LaCroix tried?" Nick's voice was tired and there was a distinct droop to his shoulders. "Mass producing vampire zombies. There's a spell for it in the Abarat. And Nick --" The ex-crusader interrupted, "I've just realized -- Lisa, you don't read Sanskrit?" "No. Larry's software translates and transliterates," Natalie reminded him. "Nick, she needs to rest." Nick, in detective mode, ignored the interpolation. "Is Larry still with LaCroix?" "I don't know. I'm through pulling Larry out of trouble. Scottie, are there any more moon pies?" Lisa tried to sit up again. "You've had enough," said Nat, pushing her gently back into place. "You don't want to nauseate yourself on top of the blood loss. Besides, remember your diet. Nick, what does Larry have to do with it?" "Because he can give LaCroix a copy of the software. LaCroix doesn't read Sanskrit either. He wouldn't know about that spell. I don't even want to think about what will happen if he finds out." Nick reached for his jacket. "I think we're going to have to steal the Abarat from the University." Nat smiled tenderly at him. Sharon Scott murmured, "And then you can be cured even if the copy can't be used." "No!" Lisa struggled wildly with Nat. Nick rushed to help hold her down. "If Nick uses the spell, someone else will have to become a vampire!" Shock brought everything to a standstill. Nick and Nat forgot to hang on. Lisa held onto the couch for support. "It's all in there. Vampirism can't just be destroyed. It will go into the nearest mortal as a host if the spell is used." "But you didn't become a vampire when you cured Alexandra,." Scottie objected. "Why?" "I don't know why. Maybe Polidori's makes me immune from being brought across." Lisa tried to stand up, wavered, and pitched to the floor unconscious again. ------------------------------------------ Lisa McDavid, Unconscious once more and unaffiliated D020214@univscvm.csd.scarolina.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 11:51:27 -0500 From: "Sharon S. Scott" Subject: The South Shall Rise Again "Lisa. Lisa. Wake up." She had to wake up. We needed to know everything *she* knew about the Abarat. I shook her shoulder again. "Lisa. Talk to me. Nick needs us. You've got to wake up." Absolutely no response. "Lisa, the Library of Congress is on fire!" That ought to wake a cataloger up if anything could. Her eyelids fluttered, but then stilled again. Drastic measures were called for. "Does anybody have a Dr. Pepper?" They all looked at me as if I were crazy. Valerie asked "What?" "A Dr. Pepper, a Dr. Pepper!" Apparently not. "Okay, how about some pecan pie?" (pronounced puh-cahn, not pee-can--trust me on this) Natalie looked disgusted. "Pie? You're worried about a piece of pie at a time like this? Have you lost your mind?" "You told me she needed sugar. If RC and moon pies don't bring her around, Dr. Pepper & pecan pie ought to." Nick stood staring down at us. "Do whatever it takes, but get her awake. We've got to find out what she knows." "You really want me to ... do ... that?" Nick looked at me, then back down at Lisa. "Whatever it takes, I said. Do it now." "Okay, but you're taking the blame for this. She'll hate me for it." "Do it." I looked back down at Lisa. I hated to do this to a fellow cataloger and a cat person, but ... "Lisa--Alexandra's got Java! She's going to hurt him! You've got to wake up and help him!" Her eyes flew open, and there was venom in them as she jumped up to hunt Alexandra down. Nobody hurt her Siamese cat. Nobody. Especially not that bimbo. --------------------------------------------------------- Sharon Scott scotts@baylor.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 15:38:53 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKWars2: Lions and tigers and Javas, oh my! Lisa swayed gently, frowning at Sharon Scott. Then she began to laugh. "Oh, no -- poor Alexandra!" Nick said, "She's hysterical," and reached forward to steady her, but the former Cousin eluded him and made for the FoDs supply, where she grabbed a Hershey bar before Nat could prevent her. "No, I'm not. Java always loses control of his bowels when he's scared -- Alexandra will be too busy dropping him and being grossed out." Lisa munched on the candy. "Besides, Alexandra is afraid of cats." Lisa's head jerked up. "You were just trying to shock me awake, weren't you?" "Sorry, but somebody had to do it." Sharon absent-mindedly picked up a pack of potato chips and under Lisa's pernicious influence began snacking herself. "Nat, will she be ok?" Nick asked. The doctor, never having been a compulsive eater, shrugged unsympathetically. "Look, Lisa, this is important. Where did you get the copy of the Abarat you had on the laptop?" "Didn't Alma tell you?" Sharon said, "She's still woozy; she must be! Lisa, honey, Alma is about as reliable as a string and two tin cans." "Oh. Well, Don Bassingthwaite came across LaCroix's name as an added entry in the OPAC --" Lisa helped herself to Sharon's chips. "The what?" asked Nat. "Online public access catalog," Scottie translated. "Yeah." Lisa crunched another potato chip. "I got curious and telnetted up. LaCroix was an a.e.." Now completely on a toot, Lisa opened a can of Pepsi -- the kind with lots of caffeine and sugar. Everyone stared at Sharon, who said, "added entry." "Right. He was listed as the donor of the famous copy of Dracula with interpolated pornographic text and plates that Aubrey Beardsley gave to Stoker for April Fools' Day. Only, I know LaCroix, and if he had had that, he'd never have parted with it. So when I got here, I hurried over to the library, and there it was. The Abarat." Lisa hiccupped. Sharon shook her head. "But how did the cataloger ever mistake an ancient Sanskrit manuscript for a 19th century printed book in English?" "I don't -- hic -- know. My guess is that LaCroix presented it in person and had a little talk with the cataloger." Lisa suddenly put the can down. Her face took on a distinctly greenish tinge. "Nat?" Natalie strode over to her researcher's side. "I knew it. Here, it'll be easier if you do it in the sink." She led the tottery librarian over to the kitchenette. Sharon Scott stared at Nick. "Do you know what this means?" "Yes," said Nick, looking tragic and heroic and adorable all at the same time, "LaCroix knows where the Abarat is. He's known it all along." --------------------------------- Lisa McDavid, Conscious, Queasy, and still Unaffiliated but writing like a Knightie. Just my luck that Nick got his arms around me (last time when he carried me) and I had to be out cold. d020214@unviscvm.csd.scarolina.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 16:54:47 EDT From: Ronni Katz Subject: FKWAR2: The Enforcer arrives [part 1/2]----------------------- The Enforcer heard all the commotion inside Nick's loft. So Lisa got the book and they they can use it to make Nick human. Well...wait until they realize that it's what they think it is but something far...worse. Nick would rather live with his curse than pass it on to someone else - even if by doing so he could be "cured". He's got that odd chivalrous knight code of bullshit he is so . God, why am I even ! I must be on drugs. Or crazy. Or . I knocked on the door. The room went dead silent for a moment before the door opened and I was face to face with Nick Knight. Nick's eyes widened for a moment. He I wasn't mortal. He also in that way we do that I was older, far older, than he was. And far more dangerous. >From within a familiar female voice - Natalie's - inquired, "Who's there?" "What are doing here?" he asked in a harsh whisper. "Let me in and I'll tell you." I could feel his eyes boring into my back as I entered the loft. His mortal allies, the majority of them female (!) were all staring at me. I guess I didn't exactly blend clad the way I was in leather biker gear from head to toe but it gets freaking cold at fifty thousand feet and I don't care if I am undead - I get cold and I like it. I sensed there were others of my kind there. Janette was eyeing me quizzically and the newest member of LaCroix's "family" was watching me from the middle of Nick's staircase. "Well?" Nick demanded as I removed my jacket. I gave him a wry half-smile and sauntered into the loft. John, the new vampire, moved down the steps slowly watching me as though I possessed the secrets of the universe or something. He also looked . "Nick, I thought you'd be a much better host," I began eyeing John. "Here, kid," I said tossing him a bottle from out of my knapsack. "Have one on me." [end of part 1/2] ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 19:22:22 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK Wars 2: Meeting the Gang [part 2/2]----------------------- Meeting the Gang Sunday, early morning Jennie looked at the young man who'd just arrived with interest. Not bad looking, and he wore the leather well, but he'd sent some rather *unpleasant* shivers up her spine when he'd entered. She was willing to bet that was human blood he'd tossed to John, too. She decided it would be a good idea to remain where she was in the corner and try not to attract too much attention... ------------------------------------------------- Jennie jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 17:43:10 EDT From: Ronni Katz Subject: FKWAR2 - Enforcer arrives pt. 2 John caught the bottle effortlessly and he what lay inside. He had the cork off the bottle drained before Nick could stop him. Knight glared at me. "We want him to come !" he hissed. "Not make him a . Not make him like ." "What makes you think I'm so bad?" "You're an Enforcer. I know what are. I also know who are, or, at least, who you were. I don't know what you call yourself in century." "I only changed the surname," I told him. "Had to. Just like you did. Although up here in Canada, you could have still used your name. Brabant is so French, don't you agree?" "Why are you here?" "Clue one," I began as I gestured around me. "I'm alone. Enforcers usually travel in pairs. I'm solo on this mission. A risk, yes, and had I been going to see anyone other than you I wouldn't have dared to take such a risk. But I you would at least hear me out before reaching for the stake...." "Get to the point." "Daniel's alive. And, even though his creation was a violation of the Code, he won't pay for LaCroix's crime." Janette perked up at this point. "Have you seen Daniel?" "Not recently, no. But it was because of that he lives. I lied to the Ancient and told him that I destroyed him so his little chapter in our Code book would be closed ." I turned back to face Nick. "I'm not a fiend," I said. "I about your little War. It's cute. And I haven't played like a child in, well, let's just say it's been a while." "I don't you to with us," Nick stated. He sighed adding in a tone less cutting, "Look, I am grateful you spared Daniel. But you are still one of ." "I'm off-duty," I said. "So all this will be, well, off the record, so to speak." "I don't care." "You'd rather I went and played with the Cousins?" "LaCroix is more your type." I smiled slightly. "Nah, I'm not interested in playing with him. Not when he's getting into all this X-Files weirdness. As if aren't strange enough!" I glanced over at John, whose eyes now shined red gold - the after-effects of having drunk his first meal - and said, "I've got more in my satchel. Enough for us all." Janette gave me a wicked smile. She I had the stuff with me, not that cowpiss Nick lived on. UGH! She also seemed to like what she saw holding the bag. I wasn't what you'd call really good-looking (I kind of resemble Val Kilmer as he looked in ) but if you are into that cowboy swaggering outdoorsy style of looks then I guess I am totally hot. The other women in the room looked skeptical. The girl on the sofa - Lisa - was sitting propped up on her elbow eyeing me very skeptically. She asked Nick, "What's going on? Who is this person?" Nick eyed me carefully. "No one you'd want to know," he said as he remembered our last encounter. His expression went blank for a split second as the memories flooded back... (And all the fans took a drink because they knew he was having a flashback.) The room was swathed in red - the color of blood - because that was how the Ancient liked it. Titus was a man of few words and little patience but he a reputation for being a just man. Carlotta had broken the Code and it was too late for her - she'd already seen the sun and taken her own life - but Nick found it hard to believe the Ancient could have ordered the death of an entire family for the crime of one man. The Enforcers who had meted out the Ancient's justice and drank the blood of those innocent children stood in silence watching Nick as he approached the seated judge. Titus had the lean hungry look of a wolf and he always kept himself just a hungry so he wouldn't feel sated and thereby lose his edge. He eyed Nick like a bug under a microscope and asked icily, "Why are you here?" "I...I need to know why-" "She broke the Code. She knew the penalty. No one can know about us. You are old enough to understand the reason. You have seen what the Inquisition did to us! Now more than ever we need to remain hidden." "They killed children!" Nick declared hotly. He pointed at the Enforcer whose expression was almost mocking and said, " drank the blood of children. Is what we are? Is that our Code?" Titus looked at the man who stood at his right arm - the one Nick was glaring at so furiously one would think his eyes were flames and whispered so only he could hear, "Talk to him, Ron. He needs to be ." But Nick had heard the name - Ron - and that name and that face was one he'd never forget. Nor would he forget how the Enforcer had "calmed him down". He had nightmares about that.... "Nick?" Natalie's voice brought him back to the present. "Do you have another supporter or is this man leaving?" Nick turned to face me. "You can stay under condition. That want you here. I can't be objective." "Fine," I replied. "Let your friends decide if they want a master tactician who can kick butt to stick around or if they want me to go back to Jersey. I was given the weekend off, so it's your call. I am willing to abide by your decision." "If they decide to allow you to remain, you have to take orders from , understand?" I nodded agreement. "Good. Wait upstairs while we make our decision." As I went upstairs I smiled to myself. Nick couldn't be clueless or did he forget we old vampires have sharp ears.... ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 17:51:48 EDT From: Sharon Himmanen Subject: FKWars 2: Beating a hasty retreat Sharon took one look at the newest arrival, the guy clad in leather who'd just tossed a bottle of presumably human blood to John and decided the time had come to beat a hasty retreat. She slipped quietly over to the stairwell door and was out and on her way before anyone noticed. She had to get out of there--she didn't care if LaCroix sent the hounds of hell after her. She'd square things w/ Nat and Valerie later. Now, she figured she'd head over to the Raven. Maybe Susan Garrett was in town. They could take in the evening showing of THE SHADOW . . . Sharon Himmanen shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 12:48:39 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK Wars 2: The Vote ---- The Vote (Sunday morning) The enforcer disappeared upstairs with an unnatural quietness, and the room he left behind was just as silent. Jennie thought, sinking even deeper into her corner. She realized she was babbling, even if only in her thoughts, and forced herself to breathe slowly. She thought irrelevantly and almost giggled aloud. Funny how she always seemed to react to stress that way. The silence stretched out; nobody wanted to be the first to speak. Finally Nick cleared his throat, "Well, you heard the man," he shrugged. "I, ah, think you all can tell what he is and you already know what I think of him...but it _is_ your choice." He looked uneasily around the room until Natalie stood up beside him. "All right, lets not make this difficult. Everyone who's in favor of him staying raise their hands." She looked expectantly at the assorted faces gathered in the loft. People glanced uneasily about them, and a few looked like they were considering raising a hand, but in the end nobody moved. "How about everyone who's opposed?" A few hands shot up confidently, several others following more hesitantly. "I take it the rest of you are abstaining?" Scattered nods. "Okay, then," she turned to Nick, "it looks like we agree with you. Will you go up and tell him?" "No need," the enforcer said from the staircase, "I assumed this would be the outcome." John stood next to him, still looking unsteady and nervous. "They *are* your followers, after all. Well just take our leave, then. Don't worry, I can take good care of our friend here!" Several people muttered in what sounded like protest, but nobody moved to stop the two as they headed for the elevator. As the two came to where Nick stood, he put out a hand to John. "Are you sure?" he queried, "he doesn't exactly follow my philosophy, you know." John met Nicks eyes squarely. "Yes," he said quietly, "but he *will* teach me what I need to know without misgivings. Besides, I wasn't ever actually a follower of yours. I think I should go with him." Nick stood out of the way, and the elevator doors closed with almost disturbing finality. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Jennie jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 19:29:16 EDT From: Ronni Katz Subject: FKWAR: Enforcer's departure The Enforcer descended the steps as noiselessly as he had alighted them and put his knapsack back on. He raised an eyebrow quizzically at Nick saying, "I can't believe a former Crusader such as yourself could allow himself to fight a war without realizing who the enemy is." "What are you talking about?" Nick demanded. "You LaCroix is the one you should be fighting but there is another force at work here that all of you are ignoring." Jennie looked up. Her eyes for a split second met the Enforcer's and he game her a smile that at once fascinated yet frightened her. There was about the slender man that was alluring, but something told her that getting close to this man could be very hazardous to her health. But it would be a way to go! Jennie ignored the effect the Enforcer was having on her and asked, "Who is our enemy?" "My dear, if you wanted the benefit of my knowledge, you should have invited me to stay," he told her. Glancing over at John he added, "At least this new one won't lack for a education. God knows would have become of him if I had left him to be trained by , Nicholas." "He'd hold on to something know as his ," Nick retorted sharply locking eyes with the Enforcer. "And what has all this gotten you? Other than this roomful of lovely ladies, all of whom I would just love to get into your arms, if only for the most fleeting of moments, you're being - or rather to be human has only done one thing. It's made you !" And with that the Enforcer swatted Nick as one would a fly sending him sprawling. "Have your War and your little games with these pretty little flowers. John and I have more important matters to attend to." Although Nick was caught off-guard by the Enforcer, he was up and on his feet in seconds. It would have been quicker if he hadn't been so tired and hungry and he could tell when he looked into his opponent's eyes that the Enforcer why he'd been so slow to recover. Nick's eyes were glowing red-gold in anger for a brief moment and then he calmed himself. He ignored the Enforcer, whose eyes laughed mockingly at him although the rest of his face was impassive, and he approached John, "Are you sure you want this??" he queried looking genuinely concerned. "You he doesn't subscribe to my philosophy. He may make you...something other than you want to be." John met Nick's eyes squarely and replied, "I know, but he teach me what I need to know without misgivings. Besides, I was never actually a follower of yours, so I think it's best I go with him." John dared a glance at the Enforcer, whose only response was a single eyebrow raised in very Spockian fashion. He looked back at Nick and said simply, "He's a , Nick. That's what am now, too. I need to learn how to live like this I start thinking about it too much." Nick nodded and made no reply. He John would have plenty of time to get philosophical about his new lifestyle. Right now learning to survive would be paramount and, as much as he despised the Enforcer, that ancient creature was, if anything, a skilled survivalist. The Enforcer snapped his fingers and inclined his head to the door and John followed him out like a pup on the heels of his master without hesitation or a look backward. "I can't believe he walked out just like that," Jennie ventured as she emerged from her corner. She watched the elevator doors close with an almost disturbing finality and found herself wondering what would become of poor John. She gazed at Nick and he seemed to sense what was on her mind. "He'll be all right," Nick reassured her as well as himself. "now, I think it's time we got on to the matter at hand." "What do you think he meant by all that real enemy stuff?" "I'm not sure, Jennie. But I've got a sneaking suspicion he's trying to imply Jeanette and the Ravenettes might be up to something...." ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 17:19:01 -0600 From: John Dencoff Subject: FKWar2: Final Exit of John and the Enforcer As they stepped into the cool night air, John thought he could almost sense the nearness of the sunrise. Perhaps less than three or four hours away. That would be something else he would have to get used to: though he was immortal, the sun would destroy him in less than an instant. He looked warily to the man at his side...the Enforcer. How old was he, John wondered? Hundreds, perhaps thousands of years? "Young one, you *must* learn to stop staring at people. Mortals dislike it, and our kind has even less taste for it." he said as John averted his eyes. "You will need to learn many things about our people--our race, perhaps--in order to survive the millennia. An Enforcer I might be...as the younger ones call us, perhaps simply because we are so old that we always get what we want...but I have desires and dreams not so different from your own. We all wish to live." "I understand. I'll try not to stare. It's just that..." the words faltered. "I'm so old? Is that it? Well, you'll find that almost every vampire you meet will be older than you, John. What you have to keep in mind is that age does not necessarily constitute wisdom. Look at Nicolai and LaCroix, after all. Continuing their senseless plots against one another. Even letting mortals become engaged in their fray. I became involved in this "War" primarily because you were created." "Me, why? Because LaCroix took revenge on me for my betrayal by turning me into a vampire? Was that going against some sort of code or something?" he asked. As they walked along the street, the Enforcer became quiet, perhaps almost amused. "Call me Ron, John. I don't care to play LaCroix's games...all this is really quite hysterical, you know. I'm sure you don't think so, given your recent condition, but you'll see the humor of it one day." The Enforcer continued. "Yes, creating new vampires is not what one would call judicious in this day and age. What with videocameras and credit records...and the volumes and volumes of other senseless records these mortals inflict upon themselves. But still, it's not against any sort of code. Both Nick and LaCroix have created new members of the Blood. Some were less successful than others at making the adjustment." "But your case is special, John. You weren't created by LaCroix. He simply meant to teach you a lesson by draining you a few pints of your precious blood. Your condition was induced by the Abarat, an ancient tome of spells relating to...among other things...vampirism." "What?! I'm not following this at all." "Patience. I'm explaining." he retorted. "Your cousin Lisa used one of the spells in the Abarat to cure another vampire. But the way that *particular* spell works, the 'curse' must find its home in another human vessel. That vessel was you. As Lisa cured one person of vampirism, you--unknowingly--took on the curse." Realization began to sink in, if slowly. "I've been mad at LaCroix for nothing...it's all been one horrible misunderstanding." "Yep. Sorry, kid." he said, a smirk on his face. "All this fear of LaCroix, and he's probably not that upset with you at all. But don't start thinking you should take it out on anyone. Cousin Lisa had no way of knowing that the spell would possibly work that way." "Yes...that's true. Even she thought LaCroix had turned me." "Well, get over it. Time to move on. You're a vampire now whether you like it or not, and you need to learn a few things in order to survive your new condition. Then you can go apologize to LaCroix or whatever, and there won't be any misunderstandings after that. We'll all be one big happy family." then he burst into laughter. "What...what about a cure?" he asked quietly. "Cure for what? Vampirism? Don't be ridiculous. Unless you want to go get the Abarat and inflict it on someone else, there is *no* cure, John." "No...no, I couldn't do that." "Well, then. Let's go teach you how to fly, since it's just a few hours until daybreak. And we don't want you char-fried on your first birthday." "Fly? I can do that?" The Enforcer looked at John, then rolled his eyes and burst out laughing again. "You are almost *too* rare, John. 'Can I fly?' he says." HA! Then both of them took to the air, the Enforcer pulling John behind him. John E. Dencoff jdencoff@polaris.unm.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ------ Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 13:06:08 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2: Arafats and Abarats and little vamps eat Ivy Ivy moved into the kitchen, it was quieter there. She was jumpy, too much so and it nearly cost Betsy. The Arafat had been uncovered, she'd been sure she'd felt it and Alma's slip only confirmed it. How long would the other's believe it was just a common mispronunciation of Abarat? And what if one of them knew the truth? She sighed. If only Nick could know truth. If only she dared tell. Still, the Arafat had touched sunlight and now she could only wait to see if it did good or evil. Bracing herself she walked back into the main room. The remaining people looked tired and wary. Natalie fussed over Betsy, reassuring both of them she was fine. *Which is lucky for a gal who's been crescent kicked by the daughter of ... * she didn't want to complete the thought. But she needed to and the truth needed to be told. She bee-lined for Nick, then altered her course and took Natalie's arm. "She's fine," Natalie said. "Good. Um, I need to talk to you." Natalie followed her out into the hallway. Kevin glanced at Ivy's exit but she signaled him she'd be right back. He took his turn fussing over Betsy and ignoring Nick staring oddly at his yarlmuka. Ivy closed the door. "What is it?" Natalie asked. "It's about Nick and ... coming back." Natalie's eyes flew wide open. "My father ... he .. he came across in the early 1900s and ... returned 30 years ago." "He came back across?" Natalie lit up like a firework on the fourth . "We have to tell Nick." She reached for the door but Ivy interposed herself. "There's more you need to know," Ivy told her. She subsided. "He didn't come back of his own free will." She gave a short sad laugh, "He's looking for someone likeminded, someone like LaCroix, to grant him his immortality again. The Arafat -- not Abarat -- was used to turn him. He killed his brother for making him mortal again and tried to destroy the Arafat. Failing to do that he hid it, buried it I think. I it, it's resurfaced. It will work, if we can find it." "We have to tell the others, those we can trust," Natalie said. Ivy got out of her way. "You tell them. If they still want to associate with the offspring of one as evil as LaCroix, well, I'm in for the fight, they know where to find me. Either way, I will do all I can to serve Nick." -------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 14:13:34 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK Wars 2: Moving On Moving On Jennie looked about the loft. If possible, the place looked even more like the last day of a con than before: People were draped over every available surface, talking with each other, sleeping or just staring at nothingness. There were food and caffeine-laced beverages all over the place (although she had to admit, the food was far better fare than *she* usually got at cons!) and to top it all off, she had that kind of "I'm not really here, I'm just dreaming this all" feeling she got when she hadn't slept much for a few days. She was still trying to process the days events so far. She thought back to the enforcer and shivered. The memory of the *smile* he gave her on his way out was all too vivid. She didn't think she wanted to deal with that just now. Instead, her thoughts turned to Janette, and what Nick had said as the enforcer left: >"What do you think he meant by all that real enemy stuff?" >"I'm not sure, Jennie. But I've got a sneaking suspicion he's trying to >imply Janette and the Ravenettes might be up to something...." Maybe that should be her next move. She remembered a message from Tanaquil that she was in at the Raven; perhaps she should head over there, just to check things out. Good thing she had all that black clothing; looked like she would need it. She wove her way through the crowded loft to speak quietly to Natalie. "Natalie, I'm going to push off now. I don't think I can do anything here, but I want to check on Tanaquil tomorrow and I need a few things. Heres the address where I'm staying and you can always leave e-mail for me if you need to get in touch." She held up a scrap of paper with scribbling all over it. "I should be able to get in touch with you if I need to, too." "Wait a minute, you're not planning anything dangerous, are you? I don't want any more casualties in this war, if we can avoid it." "Don't worry, all I'm planning now is to go to the Raven and observe. Ill be careful to dress appropriately and not do anything to attract attention. I don't even plan to make direct contact with anyone, just get the layout of the place." "Well, all right, but you still should take care." "Will do. Bye." ------------------------------------- Jennie jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 18:53:26 EDT From: Sharon Himmanen Subject: FKWARS2: Delivery![part 1/2]-------------------------------- Delivery! Sharon Himmanen Shortly after I leave the loft--morning, July 10 She'd moved quickly about a block and a half from Nick's loft. Still in the warehouse district, she figured there wouldn't be much chance of flagging a cab until she got into a slightly more metropolitan area. So imagine her surprise when one pulled up along side her without warning. Slipping inside, she gave the cabbie, a young, non-descript man, the address for the Raven, and they pulled away from the curve. She leaned back, closing her eyes and breathing a small sigh of relief. *Anything* was better than being in that loft, especially after the Enforcer showed up--too many people. a new vampire, both he and Nick looking a little ragged from not having fed w/ so many mortals around, Lisa McDavid's collapse and revelations . . . A shrill ringing drew her out of her reverie. The cab driver reached down to the seat beside him and flipped open a portable phone. He listened for several seconds, nodded, then handed the phone back over the seat to her without looking around. "It's for you," he said in a monotone. Numbly she took it from him and held it to her ear. She already knew who it was. "Well?" LaCroix asked. "Things were getting a little strange," she stammered. "Hmmm. The Abarat?" She hesitated. While Lisa's arrival had drawn everyone's attention away from her, it had also prevented her from checking on the laptop copy. Should she tell LaCroix what Lisa said about the Abarat? "I've only been there a short while. I couldn't get close enough to check on it." "Then why did you leave?" "I told you, things got weird. Lisa McDavid showed up, then an Enforcer showed up, and he gave John Dencoff a bottle of blood. That's when I left." "An Enforcer. This is very interesting. And John is there as well!" LaCroix chuckled loudly. "Nicholas is a FOOL! Keeping John Dencoff there with all those mortals. Something's bound to happen sooner or later." There was a long pause on the line, then LaCroix spoke again. "Well, I can't say that I blame you for wanting to get out of there. Self-preservation is an admirable quality as long as it doesn't get in the way of business. You can ask Janette about that sometime. "But, I find myself wondering if you aren't having second thoughts about this. You should talk to John Dencoff about the fate of people who fail me," he said, his voice deliberate. Every hair on the back of her neck stood up at his words. "In any case, I want you back there, but there's no reason why you can't utilize your time away from there wisely. It's likely no one will notice your absence with all the activity and if they do I'm sure you can come up with something reasonable." "I probably shouldn't stay away too long," she said. Suddenly the loft wasn't looking so bad after all. "Just long enough to start work on the tasks I assigned you," he said. "With Lisa's defection, that makes a Knightie, a Die-Hard and a FoD that I'd like added to my collection. Concentrate on one of those groups. After all, what's the point of being a Cousin if you can't wreak a little havoc on people. Spying is so tedious, even if it is necessary." Sharon nodded. It was only last night that Margaret had interrupted her as she was making plans. She'd take care of that task, then head back to the loft to check on the copy of the Abarat. And she'd try very hard not to think of John Dencoff and his unfortunate fate. LaCroix broke the connection then. She noticed that the cabbie was driving around in circles around downtown Toronto--that was fine with her. She had a few calls to make. As she finished making her calls, the cab pulled up outside Nick's loft. The cabbie handed her a key. "To the stairwell," he said. Then he added, "Don't worry. I know what to do." Sharon slipped out of the cab and used the key to open the stairwell door. [end of part 1/2]---------------------------------------------------------- Cousin Sharon o-----------------o---------------------------------------------- ---o | Sharon Himmanen | shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu * romana@aol.com | | Cousin | s.himmanen@genie.geis.com | o-----------------o---------------------------------------------- ---o ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 22:33:17 -0400 From: "L.D. Steele" Subject: FKWARII: Lisa leaves for a needed rest Sunday, am Lisa had been recovering on the sofa when the enforcer arrived. She couldn't figure out if he was a hallucination brought on my loss of blood and/or a sugar rush from all the junk food she'd been eating. Either way, she decided that enough was enough. She'd had a very trying week and was in need of a long rest. Where to go though? LaCroix probably wouldn't relinquish her readily. He had started spouting all that nonsense about collecting a Cousin from every group. He wouldn't want to give up his "Die-Hard" just after announcing his plan to gather one of every type. *You'd think we were baseball cards or something.* Lisa slowly walked into the kitchen area and poured herself a glass of water. She had almost finished it when she heard Natalie approach. "Are you feeling better now? You really should try to rest." "It's a bit crazy around here Natalie. I could try to faint gracefully on the couch again." "Nick doesn't really have guest facilities, does he?" Natalie's gaze slowly crept over the living room. People were everywhere and conversations started and stopped without accomplishing anything. *I don't know when this meeting will end.* She made up her mind and turned to Lisa. "Why don't you go to the St.George Residence? The Die-Hards can protect you while you recover, and then you can choose whether or not you want to get involved in this insane war again. If you don't you can always catch a red-eye flight back home." "Do you think they'll take me in? LaCroix might be coming after me." "They knew the consequences before they offered a sanctuary. Take them up on it. At the very least you'll get a few days peace and quiet before LaCroix finds you again." "I better leave without attracting too much attention then. There's no telling if LaCroix has spies here. He always has a few extra cards up his sleeve." Natalie went slowly over to Bruce and got the Die-Hard telephone number from him. When she telephoned the residence she was initially hooked up to a strange recording. Rrring! Rrring! Rrring! Rrring! (click) "Shhhh! Do you hear that? Silence. I'm in my new quiet room. If you want to ...." "Hello?" The voice sounded as if they'd just woken up and Natalie was startled to realize that it was early Sunday morning. A time of rest and relaxation. Sleeping in time for those people who weren't crazy enough to know vampires. "Yes, this is Natalie Lambert. I'm calling for Lisa McDavid. She's in a bit of a bind and would like to take advantage of your offer of sanctuary for a few days." The voice quickly became more alert. "This is Tracy. Do you need me to pick her up. It would be easier if she came over in a taxi. I'd have time to fix up a room for her." "I'll put her in a cab then. If she leaves soon, she'll be there in about a half hour." "Could you put her on please. She needs to know how to contact me once she reaches the front gate." Natalie handed over the phone to Lisa who had been half falling asleep against the kitchen counters. "Lisa? This is Tracy at Die-Hard headquarters." "Hmm? Yeah, I really need a place to hole up. Physically I'm beat and I don't know if LaCroix will come after me or not." "It's alright. Take a taxi to the residence... Do you know the address?" "Yeah. I took a look at the charter before I split up with LaCroix. It's right on the inside cover." "Trust Dawn to be efficient. Just dial this number at the phone outside the gate and I'll come down and pick you up." "I appreciate this." "It's what we came forward in this war for." "I'll see you in a bit then." "All right. Bye." "Goodbye." Natalie took over again a dialed a taxi number from memory. If they were lucky the vampires in the living room, would have been too busy to try and overhear what they were planning. Lisa and moved quietly through the living room. Everyone was occupied and didn't notice for awhile that she didn't come back in. --------------------------------------------------- Dawn steele@fern.physics.mcmaster.ca ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 08:29:32 EDT From: Sharon Himmanen Subject: FKW2: Food and Laptops (revised) July 10th The room was in a slight uproar when she slipped back in. She thought she'd made it back into the loft clean, undetected, but as she turned from closing the stairwell door softly Natalie caught her eye from across the room and frowned slightly. "Damn," she muttered to herself. She wondered if Nat would buy an "out for some fresh air" line. Sharon didn't think so. Doing her best to ignore Natalie for a few minutes, she slipped over to the group of people gathered in the living room area of the loft and listened quietly for a few minutes. From the conversation she was able to gather that John and the Enforcer had left the loft a short while ago. She continued to listen quietly and caught snatches of something that sounded like John had tried to attack Valerie Meachum and she thought back to LaCroix's chuckle upon learning that John was still at the loft. There was a light touch on her arm, but it came so unexpectedly, in the middle of her thoughts, that she jumped slightly. It was Natalie. She motioned for Sharon to follow her and led the way into the kitchen. The look on her face indicated that she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "You look like you're about ready to drop," Natalie said, leading her over to a table piled with food. "And I'll bet LaCroix didn't feed you either." She flinched slightly at the mention of his name. And Nat's gaze grew even more concerned. "You want to talk about it?" she asked, folding her arms across her body. "Talk about what?" "What happened while you were with LaCroix," Nat said, and Sharon felt her blood freeze. "Something more happened, didn't it? You didn't really get a chance to finish your story, what with all the excitement." Sharon swallowed, shaking her head, trying to keep her breathing even. "No, that was about all. Just . . . little details here and there." Nat looked like she was going to say something else, but instead she shrugged and indicated the table. "Well, you're going to eat something. Then you're going to go to my place and crash for a few hours. Doctor's orders!" she said, holding up her hand to stifle Sharon's protests. With a sigh, Sharon nodded, and looked around her. The table and nearly every flat surface in the room was covered with food of every sort imaginable. And it wasn't your typical large gathering, post-funeral type food collection either. She couldn't spot a platter of coldcuts or a tuna casserole among the lot. "Where'd this all come from?" she asked in wonder. "The FoDs," Nat said smiling. The FoDs brought all this, she thought. And then she thought about what she had in store for Pamela Rush and suddenly she didn't feel like eating anymore. "Uh, I'm not really that hungry. Maybe later," she said. She looked up and noticed two laptops sitting on top of the refrigerator. One looked like it was in pieces. Ignoring Nat's protests, she indicated the computers. "Oh, those," Nat said. "You know, you people have an amazing number of laptops. There's gotta be at least a dozen in this loft alone!" she said, her voice full of amazement. "These," she said, moving over the refrigerator and lifting the undamaged one, "are Nick's laptop, and Lisa's copy of the Abarat." The last was said wistfully. "The Abarat?" Sharon asked. She cursed inwardly at the slight edge of fear and eagerness that crept into her voice. Nat noticed it too, because she looked up sharply. "The file's destroyed or something. Ivy worked at it yesterday." She put the computer down on the table. "But," she said, looking up brightly. "Maybe your famous 'computer aura' will do the trick!" Nat pushed the laptop over to Sharon and looked at her hopefully. Nat had said it was 'destroyed or something'--this was her opportunity to make certain. She reached behind it and flipped the computer on as Nat came to stand beside her, watching what she did closely. The computer seemed to boot normally so Sharon called up the file of the Abarat and saw what Nat had been talking about it. Some of the words were there, but a lot of it was scrambled, and there seemed to be whole sections missing. Just to make sure, Sharon slowly scrolled through the entire document. "See," Nat said. She tapped Sharon slightly on the shoulder. "You're losing your touch," she teased. "You really must be tired." Sharon shrugged. Nat would notice if she didn't at least make the effort. "Does this machine have Nortons on it?" Typing the dir command, she saw that it did so she used the file editor to search the hard drive for various tex string on the hard drive, including those that might be in hidden files. Those that were present in the mangled sections of the Abarat showed up but that was it. Glancing up at Nat she shook her head. "It's gone." Sharon wondered just how Alexandra had managed to pull this off--she had thought the airhead vampire would simply take a screwdriver to the laptop and trash the thing. "There's *no* hope for it?" Nat asked. "I'm sorry," Sharon said. "If there's anything more to be done, I don't know what it is. A destroyed file is sometimes retrievable, but more than likely it's completely unsalvageable." Nat sighed and thoughtfully fingered the computer casing. Then, she looked up at Nick and Sharon felt a sharp stab of guilt as she saw the sadness in her friend's eyes. "Well," Nat said shakily. "Considering what Lisa told us about it, it's just as well. Nick wouldn't have been able to use it anyway. Still, I'd hoped there was . . . something . . ." Nat's voice trailed off. Sharon didn't know what to say. She should have been happy that the task of destroying the Abarat hadn't fallen to her. But that was overshadowed by what the loss of the Abarat meant to both Nick and Nat. It just didn't feel right to be happy just now. (to be continued . . .) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 22:38:26 -0500 From: Betsy Vera Subject: Betsy makes an offer Sunday morning at the loft. Sometime after John and the Enforcer had left, `most everyone had managed to fall asleep (except for the people whose story threads require them to be awake). They were spread out all over Nick's loft, some in sleeping bags, under blankets--it looked more like a conventioneer's hotel room than Nick's loft. Natalie got up just before dawn. She found Betsy already awake, drinking some orange juice from the FoD's supply. Betsy hadn't slept for very long. Too much excitement, probably. Finally she was having some *fun*--though getting knocked out wasn't she'd had in mind, waking up in Nick's loft more than made up for it. It _almost_ made up for Ivy's guilt-ridden solicitude. Almost. Betsy had told her several times that she was okay, no hard feelings, etc., but Ivy had kept asking for forgiveness and this had driven Betsy up the proverbial wall. But, she'd finally convinced Ivy that everything was fine, and Ivy had returned to the apartment below LaCroix's to check on her eavesdropping equipment. "Couldn't sleep?" Betsy smiled. "I guess I want to make sure I don't miss anything." Now Natalie smiled. "I wish _I_ could've missed some of it. There's so much going on, I don't know which end is up anymore. I just wish this war would finish so we could go back to normal." "Normal? As in vampire bars and vampire all-night DJ's? _That_ kind of normal?" Natalie sighed. "So maybe it isn't *normal* normal, but I think it's the kind of normal I'm used to now." She shivered. "I don't believe I just said that." "Here. Have a doughnut. If that isn't normal, nothing is." Natalie picked a chocolate-covered doughnut from the box Betsy offered, thought twice about it, and also grabbed a powdered-sugar one. "So, what's next?" asked Betsy. "What's next is, we try to think of a way to make LaCroix behaves reasonably--ha!--and returns the fan mail to us before he can do who-knows-what with it." "Yeah, I've been thinking about that. Can't you blackmail him with something? Something you could threaten to publicize?" "Like what? He's never left any witnesses; besides, I can't think of anything he'd be ashamed to have spread around." Betsy got this innocent look on her face. "How about, oh, I'm guessing here, something like, say, a recording of LaCroix talking baby-talk to his pet goldfish?" "A wha----!!" Natalie choked while an incredulous laugh and a piece of powdered-sugar doughnut tried to use her windpipe at the same time. After a few minutes, she had recovered enough to ask as she reached for some kleenex to wipe her eyes, "Where are you going to find something like that, even if it exists?" "It's on Ivy's tapes. I was listening to them when she surprised me in LaCroix's apartment building." "Hold it. These tapes are *real*? You're not just making this up?" Betsy feigned indignation. "Do I look like the type of person who would invent something like that? The kind who could come up with dialogue like, `And `ow is daddy's favowite fishy today? Umm? Is `oo hungwy? Oo, yes, I can tell `oo is vewy hungwy. Look! Daddy bought Spiky's vewy favowite fishy food. Nothing but the best for Spiky-wiky, awen't you my Spiky-wiky?' By now, Natalie was laughing so hard she was in danger of falling off her chair. Finally, after a long while, she got herself almost under control. "Spiky-wiky?" "That's what he said." "Just when you think you know everything about vampires..." Natalie started to laugh again. "Look," said Betsy after she waited politely for Natalie to recover again, "why don't we ask Ivy for the tapes and put them in a safe place; then, if you need them, you'll know where they are." "Ivy went back to the apartment." "I could go get them, if you like. I don't think I'm going to get any more sleep, anyway." Natalie thought about it. "Okay. Better take Robin Carroll-Mann with you. Safety in numbers, and all that." -------------------------------- Betsy betsy.vera@mailgw.uprod.music.umich.edu (the second-longest .sig in the midwest) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 03:11:56 EDT From: DionneEN@AOL.COM Subject: FKW2 Missing Goblin... Dionne sat down at her Mac and started typing. TO: FKFIC_L@PSUVM.PSU.>EDU FROM: DionneEN@AOL.COM SUBJECT: Missing Goblin I know everyone is terribly busy with the war (I can barely keep up), but has anyone seen a little black cat with yellow eyes? She took a pouch of Tender Vittles and ran away a few days ago. I've already checked everything around here, I'm convinced she's tried to join the war. I think she might have gone to the Raven, but she's not very smart (it's just a little brain) and I don't want her to get hurt. If anyone sees a black cat named Goblin could you please e-mail me at: DionneEN@aol.com Dionne Empress of Cat (sans subject), Die-Hard Goblin Cat (MIA) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 13:14:06 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2: Ivy waits for ghosts Ivy returned to the apartment below LaCroix. She stared in disgust at the frail little lock and promised herself she'd replace it, eventually, it didn't really matter now. Not much did. Her father and those who'd known him had been the driving factor behind all those moves, from New York to Boston to LA to Paris and finally to Toronto. Now it looked like, having found people who might understand, she might have to move again. *I should get a cat* she told herself. She looked at the equipment, both of the tapes had been filled already. She set up another two and let them go again. LaCroix wasn't doing anything terribly interesting to listen to. She got a can of soda and stared at the wall. *Maybe this was the wrong thing to do. I shouldn't have told Nat.* Her mind drifted again to that lovely letter from the dear Ravenette. Maybe she would have a place there despite the truth of her. She sighed. Maybe the NatPack would forgive her her heritage, but would Nick? And how would they react if she told them she was thirty two? ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 10:22:17 EDT From: SusanG2522@AOL.COM Subject: FKWARII--One More From the Road Sunday Afternoon - One More From the Road It was dark and quiet inside the Raven, although occasionally an insomniac vampire wandered through to the bar, grabbed a bottle or a glass, then disappeared down the back stairs again. Susan wouldn't have minded it so much if they didn't flash her a smile. There were so many types of smiles. But every one a vampire gave her said one word loud and clear --dinner! Still, there was plenty of stock on hand, thanks to some emergency provisioning after the garlic disaster of a few nights ago. They all knew what Janette would do to them if any one of them touched Susan. But--she shivered, standing just inside the front door of the Raven--all you ever needed was one idiot who didn't care and . . . . There was a pounding on the door. Susan jumped, startled, then quickly threw back the heavy bolts. A somewhat road- soiled woman stood there, with a cage on the ground beside her. A rabbit peered out of the cage, bunny eyes bright. Just then, Goblin shot out of the darkness, heading on instinct for the open door. Susan scooped him up quickly-- something about being around vampires for a while tended to improve your reflexes--and cradled him against her shoulder. "Beth, I presume. And Hazel?" Beth smiled as Susan held the door wider, then picked up the cage and walked into the Raven. "Yeah--you must be Susan." Susan closed the door behind her and put Goblin on the floor, then started resetting the locks. "Thanks for calling before you showed." "I figured it was better somebody knew I was around the block. Waking vampires from a sound sleep is probably a good idea." "Too true." Susan gestured toward a booth. "Why don't you sit down for a couple of minutes. Maybe have a cup of tea? I'll give you the key to my hotel room, you can sack there until the duration." Beth sat down in the booth and put Hazel's cage on the floor. "Thanks. Are you going back there?" "Not just yet." Susan poured Beth a cup of tea from the thermos she'd prepared earlier and set it before her. "Janette kind of left me in charge until she gets back. I think she'll be over Nick's loft until sundown." "Nick's-- loft?" Beth nearly sputtered on her tea. Susan knelt down beside Hazel's cage, where Goblin was hanging out. "Careful, Beth, your old Knightie loyalties are showing. And Janette's real paranoid about that sort of thing right now." Beth's eyes were still wide. "Have you--uh--seen him?" "We've never really been introduced. He was nice enough to put in a word for me the last time the war ended, when Janette saddled me with the writing workload from hell." Susan scratched Hazel through the bars of the cage. "Can I let him out?" "," corrected Beth. "Sure. If you don't think it's a problem. And--" She looked pointedly at Goblin. "Oh, don't mind him, he's an exceptional cat. Real breeding, that one." Susan opened the cage as Beth picked up Goblin. The cat purred as she ticked it under the chin. "Uh, Susan--Goblin wouldn't happen to be your cat?" "No, I've got a dog. Diego Garcia. Picture Walter Matthau with fur." Susan looked up as Hazel scampered under the booth table. "I patched into the net through Alma's computer--he belongs to Dionne. Janette'll get tired of him sooner or later and send him home. Probably with a diamond collar or some such nonsense. She appreciate favors, after all." Beth smiled. "Well, Goblin's a girl cat, not a boy cat." Susan blinked. "Well, damn. Maybe I have taken a biology course instead of astrophysics after all." She retrieved Hazel, who was wandering a bit afield and began to pet her. "Gotta warn you, Beth, it doesn't look good for the boss lady." Beth's eyes narrowed. She let Goblin slip to the floor as she picked up her tea. "Any attacks?" "Nothing yet. But she won't let us make a move. I know she's got Mary up to something. And Betsy S.'s supposed to come in tonight--I sent her home, no sense all of us being dead tired, if you'll pardon. But she's playing her cards real close to her chest, happy cards though they may be." Sighing, Susan released Hazel, whom Goblin was nuzzling--they seemed to be getting along well enough--and rose to her feet. Wearily, she stretched, then slipped into the other side of the booth. "I know she was real cheesed off at Nick and LaCroix for taking advantage of her like they do. And I know . . . she stole some of Nick and Natalie's mail. Anything to do with him being cured." Beth's eyes went wide again. "You're kidding? Did she destroy it?" "She didn't say yes and she didn't say no. But you know our girl, always careful and a packrat to boot." She leaned closer to Beth. "Whatever you do, volunteer to clear out her basement. Make's Charles Foster Kane's Xanadu look like Walmart. But I think she's got it stashed somewhere around here. And if we find it, your knightly connections may come in handy." "You're going to betray Janette?" "Betray?" Susan sat back against the booth, wounded. "Not on my life--which wouldn't be worth a plug nickel if I did. You didn't see what happened when she lost Monica. And she Monica. No, I just want to keep her out of trouble. I brought my skeleton keys just in case." Susan reached into her pocket and withdrew a small case, which she opened to reveal a number of keys of shapes and sizes. "Where's you get those?" "I was born in Brooklyn. They give them to you in the hospital instead of those stupid little hats. you never outgrow." She flipped the case shut. "So maybe you could keep your eyes open when you're here. Just in case." "Sure," said Beth, as Hazel and Goblin chased one another around the dance floor. "But Janette'll go ballistic if she ever finds out." "Then let's hope she doesn't find out. At least until I'm back in Jersey." --- SusanG2522@aol.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Mon, 11 Jul 1994 14:21:20 EDT From: Pamela Rush Subject: FoDly arrival Sunday evening, July 10: Chicago Midway Airport Sherry sighed and tugged the strap on the overstuffed carryon farther up her shoulder. The whole group had embarked from Louisville Standiford with no problem, but, as usual, something had to go wrong somewhere along the line: their connection to Toronto had been forty minutes late arriving and was still setting sullenly on the concrete apron no closer to the boarding gate than it had been in the past half hour. They all needed to get some quality sack time tonight but at this rate wouldn't even arrive until the wee, small ones. She almost began to wish that she hadn't decided to come; after all, it was not as though she would be paid for it. Maybe there would but time for her to get in touch with Det. Schanke; Cal Lynn had had a wonderful time visiting the Schankes last month -- not that Sher expected quite that much of a red-carpet treatment, but she would certainly call. (to be continued...) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- -------[Monday, July 11th]----------- ------------------------------------- Date: Sun, 17 Jul 1994 01:51:09 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--Back at the Die-Hards Again, Again July 9, 1994, near dawn "Why didn't we stay?" asked Bruce as we stepped out onto the street. "Maybe I could have seen if something was wrong with the laptop." "There'll be time for that later, I'm sure. I think Natalie was trying to give Nick a breather from all us mortals." "Yeah. Guess you're right." "We weren't accomplishing anything anyway," I said in some irritation. "Just talking around in circles." "Yeah. We were all kind of rudderless in there." We started to walk up the street. "We should get a cab back to the Die-Hard Headquarters--tell them what happened." "Yeah, I guess." I looked at him. "You read their Charter thoroughly. "Would they attack LaCroix?" "Not a chance." "But he has Die-Hard information--" Bruce looked sharply at me. "Well, maybe not. Since they don't have any applications filled out." We had reached a phone booth and Bruce called for a cab. "Why didn't you tell them you were a Knightie?" "I don't know any of those people. One of them could be a spy for LaCroix." "Well, I don't know how effective you can be by yourself. There didn't seem to be many of his followers there." "Yeah," I said thoughtfully. Then I yawned. "God, I'm tired." Our cab arrived. "We'll go back to the hotel as soon as I can make my report to the Die-Hards," said Bruce. We got into the cab and before long were let out at the St. George Residence. I sat in the living room with coffee and a donut while Bruce went off to pow-wow with the Die-Hards. But pretty soon I was having trouble keeping my eyes focused on the magazine I was reading. I put it down and rested my head on the back of the couch, thinking, 'I'll just rest my eyes for a few minutes.' I began to dream. Nick was in bed with a young and very shapely red-haired woman, both of them nude and engaged in passionate embracing. He bared his fangs and bit her and after a moment, she bared fangs and bit him in return. What followed after that could rival any porno movie. "Honey?" came a voice. I came awake with a start. "C'mon, cab's here. Let's go back to the hotel and get some rest." I sat up straighter, drained the rest of the coffee, and then stood. As we walked out to the cab, I thought about the dream. It wasn't the first time I'd had a dream about Nick and the stripper. I wondered if he actually knew her. No. If he did, he wouldn't still be hanging around with Natalie Lambert. A story idea? Maybe I should write the stuff down for "Knightly Tales?" I pulled my thoughts back to the waking world. "So what happened with the Die-Hards?" I asked Bruce. "Are they going to do anything?" "They've decided to issue an invitation to all the groups for a meeting on Sunday night, the 17th, to discuss the hostilities, in the hopes something can be resolved to end the Wars." "At the Die-Hard Headquarters?" "Yeah. Starting at 9:00 p.m. Charter restrictions will be in effect, of course." "Do they expect them all to come?" "Well, we're hoping." "But why the 17th? A lot could happen to really escalate things before then." "They want everyone to have sufficient notice of the meeting time, I guess." Sounded stupid to me. But then it didn't seem like anyone else was that organized either. We finally reached our hotel room and fell into bed. --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 15:10:00 PDT Reply-To: jennise@dgi.com Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: M'lady Printcap the goddess of peripherals Subject: FKWARSII - Jennise Takes a Trip EXT. PHONE BOOTH - TUSCON, AZ - NIGHT - 2 A.M. Jennise stands in the night air speaking on the phone. She keeps her back to Karin and speaks softly. Karin strains to hear what's being said but finally gives up. JENNISE But you said I could... LACROIX(V.O.) The situation here requires your presence. JENNISE Yes sir. I'll pick up the package and be there as soon as possible. Jennise slams the receiver down and turns to Karin. JENNISE Well, I was right. He knows where Margaret is. KARIN Where? JENNISE (ignoring her) He sounds a little weird. Hmmmm. KARIN Where is Margaret? JENNISE She's at his place. I need you to make some traveling arrangements. I've got an errand to run and I won't have time to fly all the way to Toronto when I get back. KARIN You said you just wanted me to help you find Margaret. That you'd... JENNISE Let you get rid of those damn carpets if you helped me. I'll keep my word. You just handle the travel arrangements. I'll be back before dawn. Karin looks after Jennise as she takes to the air. KARIN Just call me Karin Welss, Vampire Travel Agent. JENNISE(V.O.) Don't forget a ticket for yourself! EXT. MCCRORY HOME - NIGHT 3:30 AM Jennise flies around the exterior of the house. No windows are open. She lands by the back door. It doesn't take her long to pick the lock. She quietly steps inside. INT. HOME OF SELMA MCCRORY - BEDROOM - NIGHT - 3:30 AM Jennise steps into the bedroom. She watches Selma a moment before shaking her awake. JENNISE (whispering) Selma. Selma. Selma slowly wakes up. Her eyes go wide when she realizes the woman sitting on her bed is not her mother. JENNISE Geez, you're a heavy sleeper. SELMA Who are you? JENNISE Jennise. Die Hard extrodinare. I'm running an errand for the Knighties. They need your help and I could get you to Toronto the fastest. SELMA Nick needs me? JENNISE Actually, he needs that cute little Comp Sci degree you just got. Consider it work experience. SELMA Let me get changed and leave my Mom a note. JENNISE Can I use your phone? SELMA Sure. Is it local? Jennise chuckles, picks up the phone and dials Dublin CA. JENNISE Acme carpeting. Go ahead with that installation. No, the Dark Purple. Selma hurriedly throws on some clothes. Her lips move quietly as she scribbles out a note. Jennise hangs up the phone. SELMA Okay, I'm ready. JENNISE You're not afraid of flying are you? SELMA Course not. Uh, can we use the window. Jennise laughs. JENNISE I prefer it myself. After you. Selma opens the window. Jennise swipes the note from the pillow, then joins Selma at the window. JENNISE Up. Up. and Away........ -- Jennise Hall ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Mon, 11 Jul 1994 01:08:47 -0700 From: "Elizabeth L. Bales" Subject: A New Recruit... Or Then Again, Maybe Not I chewed absently at a hangnail and stared at the screen. *I must be the wishy-washiest reader on this darn list! Can't make up my mind whether or not to get involved in this war. Can't decide which faction I'd join anyway. Not sure if I'd be useful anyway...* I sighed. *Gee, sounds like I'd fit right in with Nick, the King of I'm Not Sure. But somehow I feel more drawn to the NatPack. So I guess that's my next decision... Or maybe the Die-Hards?* I laughed out loud. *Yep, wishy-washy, all right. Okay, well, I'm unemployed anyway. Might as well do something with all that time....* I reached for the phone and dialed. "Midge? Hiya, it's Elizabeth Bales. What kind of price can you get me for a flight to Toronto, leaving right away?" Fifteen minutes later, I hung up the phone and winced. "Oww. Why does air travel have to cost so darn much?" Then I got up and started packing. Next stop, Toronto. ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 00:22:01 EDT From: Tokaara@AOL.COM Subject: FK Wars: Tok's Reprogramming Tok's Reprogramming ------------------ Tok had been in a state of near-collapse ever since the strains of had started coming out of her laptop. She had vague memories of Nan coming in and bundling her into a car. Gandalf and Merlin had been with her, plus at least one other cat she didn't recognize. There'd been some buzz on the lists about some group called the Friends of Sidney. "You don't suppose ...," Tok thought to herself fuzzily as she tried to focus on one of the strangers. "Naw ..." That was the last she remembered for quite a while. * * * * * * * * * * "Fly like an eagle, to the sea ..." Tok shrieked and tried to sit bolt upright, but something held her down. Several somethings, to be more accurate. At least one cat draped over each arm and leg. Gandalf lay on her chest, purring loudly. When Tok fixed her gaze on him, he gave her THE LOOK. Anyone who has ever been owned by a cat knows THE LOOK. Your cat knows you've been incredibly foolish, and this is the beginning of your punishment. As continued in the background, Tok heard Nan's voice over the "music". "We've been friends for a long time, Tok. Once we've rescued you from LaCroix's influence, we'll be friends again. Lucky for you, I recovered my tapes." The next several hours were a battle. , over and over again. Nan whispering to her about the misfortunes that had befallen other Cousins, John in particular. Gandalf, crouched on her chest, purring. Merlin, alternating sides, licking Tok's face and ears. Suddenly, blessedly, there was a moment of silence. Tok breathed a sigh of relief. Music began again, but this time, it was Rick Springfield. She opened her eyes and realized the strange cats had gone. She was alone with Nan, Gandalf, and Merlin. They were in Nan's hotel room; she recognized it from her view through the window. Things were different now. Her thoughts finally seemed clear. She at her friend Nan. "I'm sorry, Nan. I don't know what came over me." "LaCroix, of course. You should've known better." "You're right. How can I make it up to you? And to you guys?" she added, looking at her two feline friends. "Help us. Join the Nat Pack and help us put a stop to this war." Nan stared at her, awaiting her response. "Well ... I don't know what we can do to help, but I'm game. Anyone who's a cat person should be a friend of mine. You think you guys could protect me from you-know-who? He won't take kindly to this." "We'll do the best we can. Let's go." ----------------------------------------------------- +----------------------------------------------------+ | Lisa Luksus (Nat Pack) tokaara@aol.com | | Gandalf & Merlin (FOSsiLs) | +----------------------------------------------------+ ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 16:01:14 EDT From: Pamela Rush Subject: Wars II: Lunch with Schanke Lunchtime, Monday, July 11: Toronto Sherry was very excited and just a bit nervous. After two years of following the adventures of the FK characters on tv, she was finally going to meet one of them vis a vis. She had been pleasantly surprised by Det. Schanke's warm welcome when she had called the 27th earlier that morning; he had immediately suggested a lunch date and now she was actually on her way to meet him at the Parthenon. The cab slowed and started to pull over to the curb... Sherry instantly recognized Schanke who was strolling up and down in front of the restaurant; he looked just as he did on tv except much more suave. As she debarked, lugging her parcels, he turned to look, then crossed the walk with a warm smile and an outstretched hand. "Hello! You must be Ms. Crabtree! I'm --" " --Don Schanke, of course! I'd know you anywhere! But how did you know...?" "Well, I am a detective," he said, smiling modestly, "and, besides, it wasn't that hard..." he indicated her stylish FK t-shirt. "And call me, Sherry, please." "Right. And I'm Don." "Great tie!" she commented, "I have some lawn furniture with the same pattern." "Thanks. My wife gave it to me." "Oh, I'm looking forward to meeting Myra, too. Before I forget," she added, searching in her capacious shoulder bag, "here are two tickets for the concert for tomorrow night. I hope you both can attend." Schanke tucked the pasteboard passes securely into his inside coat pocket and patted his jacket back into place. Looking up at the store-front facade of the Parthenon, Sherry was overwhelmed with nostalgia: this had to be... "This is *the* Greek restaurant, right?" "Well, yes, it is --" "The one where you --" "The one where I -- " They spoke in perfect unison: "--had two souvlaki for lunch!" "Jeeze," sighed Sherry, "a landmark." * * * * * * * * * * * A little later they sat comfortably across a small table from each other talking almost as much as they were eating. Sherry had presented Schanke with the blintzes and he had promised to take good care of them. Sentimentally, Sherry had ordered souvlaki, but Don was making headway on a large platter of giouvetsi. The soup course -- tsatsaki -- had been cool, rich and creamy. They were sharing a selection of tyropita and spanakopita. As they talked, Schanke was vaguely aware of a niggling puzzle: Sherry reminded him of, of...someone else. But he couldn't quite recall... the conversation was eclectic, covering a wide variety of topics (they had discovered a mutual love of a wide range of musical styles) but finally working its way around to common acquaintances. "...wouldn't actually call Pamela 'pig-headed'," Sherry was saying, "at least not to her face. Of course, you could call her anything you want to before nine a.m. and she'd never notice. Prob'ly wouldn't notice a nuclear holocaust before her second cup of coffee." "You think *you* work with bizarre people," laughed Schanke, "let me tell you about my partner --" "Oh, damn, that reminds me!" interrupted Sherry. "I was supposed to find out whether...that is, do you know anything about this *war* thing?" "Huh?" "I guess not. Listen, this is going to sound weird, but I don't know who else to ask. Have you noticed anything kinda *strange* going on the last week or so? Especially with Nick and Natalie?" "Hey, is there ever any time when Knight is *not* being strange? But, yeah, I know what you mean, although I can't figure how you know it. It started the day he screwed up a conference call on me and Myra...uh, actually, that's another story. But that was early last week and Nick's been nervous as a cat ever since -- *when* you can find him! He's here then he's not and then he calls in sick; then he's back, then he's not and then he takes some vacation time. And I've been pulling double shifts covering hi sorry ass! And Natalie was at work on Friday, but *now* she's all of a sudden on vacation, too! You think there's something going on with those two?" Schanke looked genuinely concerned. "I hardly know where to start; in fact, I'm sure I don't know the whole story, but I can tell you that Nick has an enemy, a real nut case who thinks he's...well, sort of aligned with occult forces, or something like that," she paused at Schanke's startled look. "I *said* it was weird! It's not *my* fault. I didn't *write* it! But this guy -- he uses the LaCroix most of the time, but we have known him to use the name Cross or LaCrocks, as well -- he's a real piece of work. He's probably at least as dangerous as he is crazy." "Great. Just great. So a crazy is stalking my partner and I hear about it from a visitor from the States. He couldn't just tell me about it? He couldn't just *ask* for help? N-o-o-o-o. Knight has to do it *his* way, the Lone Ranger way. As soon as I help him get this guy, I'm gonna tell Nick exactly what I thank of that, too!" "I certainly agree he ought to have told you; forewarned and all that. Besides, I don't think he's going to be able to handle this on his own. And there's Natalie's welfare to consider, too." "Nat! You think she's a target, too?!" "Well, you gotta *know* what she's doing on 'vacation' and she's vulnerable. And Nick would be very vulnerable if she were in the line of fire." "Listen, I gotta go get hold of Knight and find out what's going on. He shouldn't be out there alone on this. I really hate to cut lunch short, but you know...?" "No problem!" "Don't leave just 'cause I have to; they have great desserts here -- try the kataifi." "Maybe I'll get one to go, but I have some shopping to do myself. In fact, can you recommend a good lingerie shop?" "Uh, no, not really. Myra buys all my, uh, you know... But, tell me," he said, hurriedly adding a generous tip to the bills on the table, "one thing: I keep having this feeling that I know you from somewhere although I'm sure we've never met before, right?" "No, I'm sure I would have remembered." Even the arch look that went with her answer suddenly seemed familiar to Schanke. "But you're probably thinking of my *sister*; she's on tv, too, and a lot of people think we look alike, except my hair is much redder." (to be continued...) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Mon, 18 Jul 1994 19:48:40 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--Decisions, Decisions July 9, 1994, late afternoon Bruce and I were awake, both of us considerably more refreshed after our rest. As we dressed to go out to grab a bite to eat, Bruce decided to make a check-in call to the Die-Hards. He talked to Kathy and his expression became serious. "What is it?" I asked after he hung up. "There was another meeting of the Die-Hards. They called off the meeting plans." "Why?" "Well, it was pointed out that the--cross on the door--would make the St. George a less desirable location for a meeting." "So what does that mean?" "No one knows yet." I sighed. Another prime example of waffling. They wouldn't attack LaCroix, but it seemed no one wanted to take charge of the peace, either. But I kept my opinions to myself rather than perhaps get into an argument. "So what now?" I asked. "Well, I'm starving. After that--I don't know." "Maybe we should go back over to Nick's place--see if anyone there has come up with anything." "If there's anyone there." "Well, probably Natalie will be. That's assuming Nick hasn't gone to work or something. In that case, we'll just have to see if we can track down Natalie." "Should we call?" "No," I said quickly. Bruce eyed me suspiciously. "You just want to see him again, don't you?" "Well, as _you've_ told _me_ in the past--'I'm married, not dead.' There's no harm in looking, is there? You do." "Not as long as looking is all you do." "I'm sure you don't need to worry about that," I assured him. We left the hotel--in quest of dinner and...delight? --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 14:38:44 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK Wars 2: Answers Answers (Sometime on Monday) Arriving back at the Bed and Breakfast after shopping, Jennie decided to check in back home. She felt somehow disconnected from her everyday life and wanted to make sure she could still find reality. After a bit of rummaging in her purse, she found her phone card and dialed the numbers. When the answering machine picked up, she dialed her code and began to listen. But as the machine spat out still more messages from Robin Bonke, she realized it was entirely possible that she *had* erased it. Beep! Click! Buzzzzz... Okay, that was more normal. Usually about half the messages on this machine were hang-ups. Beep! "Hi, Jen, its me. Ill give you a call later. Bye!" Beep! "Hi, Jennie, its your brother. Ill call back later." Well, shed call them both when she got home. If she got home. Beep! More Robin. Amazing how that woman seemed to attract trouble; Oklahoma City instead of Toronto was pretty bad. Beep! "Tag!" <*That* would be Pete. If he isn't obnoxious, he's *really* brief!> Beep! "Hey, Hazey, its Nancy! Where have you been? Are you still at work talking to people on the Internet again? You know, its really scary how you can obsess over TV shows the way you do. Well, give me a call when you get home if its not too late. Talk to you later!" Beep! Jennie punched in the replay message code... --------------------------------------------- Jennie jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 07:40:09 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--Underground Blasting July 11, 1994, evening "I don't know how I let you talk me into this," whispered Bruce in a tone a bit louder than I liked. "Shhh." I continued in a lower whisper, "Come on. You have an FCC Class II Radio Telephone License." We had gotten inside the building of Underground Radio 490 and were creeping down the hall to the control room. "Ivy was working on disrupting his finances and utilities. Maybe adding radio transmission problems will cause him to throw in the towel." "Yeah. But if the Die-Hards find out--" "Screw the Die-Hards! You didn't want to choose them anyway, did you?" "Shhh!" said Bruce. He put a hand on my arm and stopped. We had come to a door and we peered around the edge of it. It was the control room and, as I expected, it was empty. We walked into the room. "You see, I told you," I said in a normal voice. "He's been so busy it's being run on automatic." Bruce took a seat and began fiddling with the controls." Wish we could have brought country music tapes to substitute. I _hate_ country music and it's not his format, either." "What I've got planned is better. I'm going to increase the broadcast signal beyond his allowance." After a few more minutes, he said, "There. That should get him in trouble with the Canadian FCC." He stood. "Hopefully he won't find out about it until he's been contacted by them." "But if he comes back sooner, I've got a surprise of my own for him." "Well, he'll still be cited for a violation." Bruce watched as I spread what I had brought all over the chair. "There. Finished," I said. We started to leave. "Oh, almost forgot," I said. I went back and attached a note to the control board. ------- "LaCroix. Something's up at the station," said an aide of his some time later. "What?" "You'd better hear for yourself." LaCroix walked over to his stereo and turned it on. Underground Radio 490 blasted away at him at a horrifying decibel and he didn't even have the volume turned that high. LaCroix drove angrily to the station. He found the door expertly broken into. He strode to the control room and sat down, frantically adjusting the controls back to their permitted frequencies. A note taped to the control panel said, "YOU WERE STUCK ON THE WRONG FREQUENCY. KNIGHTIE NIGHT" LaCroix ripped the note off the console and, snarling, stood up. Or tried to. He found the chair he was sitting in stuck _firmly_ to his backside. He screamed in rage and ripped it off, tearing his pants and jacket in the process. Too bad no one was there to see what kind of underwear he was wearing. --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 08:17:16 EDT From: Pamela Rush Subject: WAR2: LC gets an invitation Monday, July 10, evening: somewhere in Kentucky The heatwave had mitigated somewhat, making it a fine, warm summer evening in the Bluegrass. Pamela kicked down the clutch and turned the ignition, smiling as the powerful Honda engine roared into life between her knees. Well, Ok, so maybe more like in front of her *kneecaps*. she chided herself solemnly, She had a long road to go in the long summer evening, but all of it was 'round and 'round and 'round. She would start, as usual, with the big side lawn -- almost half an an acre --that separated The Stone House from the main road. The grass was overlong, dotted with dandelions, bluettes and clover in bloom. Pam engaged the 42" cutting blade as she chugged off the driveway onto the grassy lot; it made a wide, sharp, darker green line behind her as she drove. One long, straight strip first.... Sherry had called late the night before -- although Pam had been awake, watching the SciFi Channel, the only decent late-night programming available since CBS went mad and cancelled Crime Time -- to tell them that she had arrived in Toronto and to check on the health and welfare of Muffin. ...a 90 degree left turn at the bottom of the first strip; a clean angle was always tricky.... Sherry said the whole company was at the Airport Hilton and that she planned to call Det. Schanke early on Monday. Pam hoped she had caught up with him before the cheese blintzes went off. Sherry had been very accommodating about packing the insulated knapsack full of blini in her carry-on luggage instead of extra underwear. After all, she had said philosophically, that's why they made wash 'n wear. ...the next several cuts would be curved or semi-circular; that would be much easier.... * * * A few minutes sometime Monday night when LaCroix is not occupied in anyone else's storyline: Toronto LaCroix, nattily attired in a monochromatic sort of way, debouched at street level and surveyed his domain: the city, the night. Having had the collywobbles an unprecedented twice in one week, he was feeling a little sorry for himself, but who better to appreciate his sufferings? Now he was fairly if precariously recovered, so long as he did not look at swaying, waving, heaving, swinging...actually, it was better *not* to *think* about it either. And somehow he still was not overly keen on flying much; it involved a little too much up and down, back and forth, swaying, bobbing, dipping.... Oops. No doubt he would be perfectly recovered quite soon. Meanwhile, it would be pleasant to tool about in his newest acquisition. He regarded it almost fondly: the elegantly equipped, night-black Hummvee squatted brashly in the NO PARKING zone directly in front of LaCroix's apartment building awaiting him. No doubt it would serve him more faithfully than his ragtag group of followers with their constantly shifting allegiances and inconstant devotion to the dark. Opening the driver's door, LaCroix was outraged to notice that someone had *dared* to insert shoddy paper flyers under the wiper blades. As they were completely recessed, it was very tedious getting them out without leaving shredded messy bits. There were two different coloured handbills: One of them promised some sort of benefits from association with a group called "The Die-hards." Good name; he liked it. In fact, it sounded very familiar...but, unfortunately, it was impossible to tell from the soggy remains exactly what they supported or proclaimed. The other flyers advertised the "Louisville -------pera Company in Conc----" with smudged dates and times almost illegible. A concert? Perhaps he *did* deserve a little treat? He had heard of Louisville -- the River City, the gateway to the south and to a hospitable and gracious way of life...and death, no doubt. It might be entertaining.... * * * Back to earlier that evening : somewhere in Kentucky W-h-e-e-e! Those tight little S-curves were always fun, even with only 16 Hp under the hood. Well, that was finished; now, should she mow over it? Or let it stand a day, or two, or more? thought Pamela, And she bumped the big mower back across the driveway, leaving behind her a succinct message carved out of the tall Kentucky grass and wildflowers in 42" wide swathes: LACROIX SUCKS After all, it could hardly even be construed as an insult. (to be continued...) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 16:09:36 -0800 From: "S. Tanaquil Johnson" Subject: FKWars2: Janette Has An Off Night [part1/3]------------------ Janette Has An Off Night Tanaquil poured herself a glass of wine (not, needless to say, Janette's private reserve) and settled herself on stool behind the bar for a few precious moments. Damn platform shoes. Weekday evenings were always slow, and Monday nights especially so. Three nights behind the bar and two days spent ostensibly in more tedious tasks like taking inventory and receiving supply shipments had been more than sufficient to allow her to case the joint. Already she knew a great deal about the club's operation, and about the daily schedule of its inhabitants. So far the job had been even easier than she had expected. Tanaquil absently scratched Goblin behind the ears as she watched the dancers on the floor. Janette had been so preoccupied with the arrival of a new shipment of her "private reserve" that afternoon that she had eagerly seized upon Tanaquil's announcement that she would be working on inventory in the back room for at least two hours. That had given her all the time she needed in Janette's room. That had been the trickiest part, since it had to be done while Janette was awake. Tomorrow she could easily do what needed to be done for the evening while the others were asleep. As for the other thing, she could easily come up with an excuse to be away from the bar for five or ten minutes... It had not taken her long to realize that actually finding proof of whatever devious plan Janette was hatching was going to be virtually impossible. Even the Ravenettes clearly didn't know, and it was making them very jumpy. She did think, however, that the activities she had planned for tomorrow would grab Janette's attention. What would happen then was anybody's guess. If Janette ever suspected that this was her doing, she would be out on her ear. But it would be worth it, if only because Tanaquil was looking forward to the show. [end of part 1/3]----------------------------------------------------------- ----- S. Tanaquil Johnson ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 16:20:47 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK Wars 2: Raven Watching Raven Watching Jennie checked her appearance in the full length mirror one more time. She hardly recognized herself, with all the work shed done on her appearance today. A trip to the beauty shop had changed her hair from practically straight to a wild tumble of curls and made it about three shades lighter. Definitely blond now. It was currently twisted up into an arrangement which allowed the curls to fall artistically from the top of her head and looked far more elegant than Jennie was used to being. She had applied the new makeup, which was darker than she normally wore and she was now wondering if it was ever going to come off. It was like magic markers. A glimmer of an idea swam through her mind at that, and she left it stewing in the back while she checked to make sure her dress fell correctly and her high heeled black boots didn't look scuffed. The dress was all black, with an uneven hemline that made it trail out behind her when she walked. She liked the effect and between that and the choker shed been given for her birthday this year, she thought shed at least be allowed into the Raven. On the way, she stopped at the address Robin had given her for LaCroix, only to have to hide as the man himself stalked through the parking lot. She hoped he was too distracted to hear her heartbeat over the whine of the air conditioner she had taken refuge near. He stopped next to a gorgeous car and she could hear him muttering, "Hmm...Kentucky...July 12...I *could* use a treat..." He hopped into the car and took off. Jennie took her time leaving, in case it was a trick. ----- The Raven was just as shed thought it would be, full of loud music and dancing people. Heavens, was that Tanaquil with the plum and black hair behind the bar? No wonder shed gotten in so well - nobody would expect a Natpacker to even *have* those clothes, much less wear them! Still, Jennie had to admit they were quite effective and she admired how well the woman was pulling this all off. It had been a bad idea, coming here alone: already shed been hit on by two suspiciously pale young men who'd seemed surprised when she didn't immediately fall into their arms. Still, they hadn't made any fuss as they moved on, so it wasn't too bad. Yet. Now there was a very friendly cat brushing up against her legs. She looked at it sadly. "Well, hi there! What are you doing in here? Oh, you're nice, but I'm allergic to you and I didn't bring any of my medicine with me tonight!" The cat, amazingly, moved on. Jennie went back to looking about. She laughed with everyone else when the music suddenly cut to a bad combination of "Yellow Submarine" and some poetry that sounded vaguely familiar. It was rather fun, watching Janette try to control her instinctive reaction to decimate the sound booth and lose. When it was all over, she just couldn't resist. She made her way through the crowd to Janette before she could make her exit and stopped her with an upraised hand, trying to keep the mischievous twinkle out of her eyes. "That was a simply *wonderful* piece of performance art, my dear!" was all she got out as Janette fumed past her. Deciding that a discreet retreat might be called for now, Jennie headed back to her room. ------------------------------------------------ Jennie jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 14:36:00 PDT From: M'lady Printcap the goddess of peripherals Subject: FKWars 2: Arrivals I'm posting for dear wonderful Sharon Scott. Karin was brought across at the end of the last war. So she is a Vampire. ________________________________________________________ Jennise and Selma landed on top of the building housing the tattered remnants of the Cousins. Using the fire escape, they moved downward to LaCroix's apartment. At his door, Jennise stopped and listened. She could hear the thumping of at least one human heart. So far so good. Forcing the doorknob, she thrust Selma into the apartment ahead of her. Margaret stood openmouthed at the sight of the two women. "So here you are, Margaret. Do you know I've been hunting for you high and low? And you've been here, all the time. Why don't you keep in touch?" Jennise was not happy. Margaret looked abashed but held her ground. "I've been helping Uncle. He *needed* me, and he didn't want his whereabouts known to just everybody." She looked at Selma, and then back at Jennise. "So why did you bring this ... Knightie ... here?" "I'm not *just everybody*, Margaret. And I brought Selma as ... well, as a peace offering to LaCroix. I thought he might be able to use her to good advantage with that herd of people over at Nick's place." "I'll be sure to tell him that. Of course, you never know about him--he may or may not choose to accept your bribe." "Margaret, Selma is *not* a bribe. I just feel kind of bad that I haven't been around to help out during the present 'difficulties.' If I hadn't been wasting my time looking for you ... " Selma was following the conversation with a look of utter confusion on her face. "I'm, I'm, a bribe? What does that mean?" "It means, dear heart, that you're LaCroix's, to do with as he pleases. He may use you as a pawn in the game against Nick. He may save you for ... later. I've given up trying to predict what he'll do. But you're his creature now. Do *not* forget that." Selma's look of confusion changed to one of fear. "Jennise, I thought you were my friend!" "Friendship means nothing when LaCroix's involved. You should know that by now." Jennise turned to Margaret and asked "Where is he? What's wrong with him? He sounded real weird on the phone." "He's out. Don't worry about him, Jennise. He'll be fine. He's not your problem." "So he's not fine now?" Margaret stuck to her guns. "I told you--he'll be fine. He accidentally ingested some poisoned blood, but he's recovering rapidly. He'll be back to normal in a few hours." Jennise stood there, undecided as to whether she should force the issue, or accept Margaret's word on his status. "Okay, Margaret, but if anything *else* happens to him ... " "It won't. I won't let it." "Karin's at the studio. She went to check on things. She'll be by after. Be careful. Don't trust anyone. This is war, remember? " "Yeah, I remember. I've been here since it started, and it has not been a barrel of laughs. But Uncle's got things under control, so fly away home." Jennise choked back her retort, spun around, and left the apartment, slamming the door as she went. As she took off into the night sky, a smile began to form on her face. "Yeah, right, he's got everything under control. Why don't I believe that?" She made a wide circle around Toronto, then headed for the Raven. "What better place to catch up on local doings." ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 21:42:13 EDT From: SelmaMc@AOL.COM Subject: FK wars II: Jennise develops a tail Selma shook as Jennise launched out the window. "Jennise..." she cried. Margaret came up behind her. "Forget it. She's gone." Selma looked sad, but somewhat bemused. "And I was going to tell her about the cute blond guy that's been following behind us all the way from Sacramento." "What cute blond guy?" Margaret asked. "The guy in the trenchcoat." "Who?" "Nevermind." * * * Jennise looked behind her. Selma's parting shot caused her to turn around. A few hundred feet behind her was a familiar looking man. "LaCroix!" She fumed. She was being followed by that idiot that LaCroix had brought across a couple of months ago in Paris, and she wished he had stayed there. She was plenty mad. She swore as she ducked around a high-rise, hoping to lose him. ------------------- * + * . * Selma McCrory selmamc@aol.com . . * * . ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Mon, 11 Jul 1994 23:49:12 -0400 From: "L.D. Steele" Subject: FKWARII: A Proposed Excursion Monday, July 11th, 11pm Dawn (unknown to the supervisor of the building) was settling in quite nicely at the St. George. The room across the hall from Tracy's was comfortable enough to stay in for a few days. Picture the scene: The two rooms occupied were typical residence rooms, although the one Dawn was staying in, was quite a bit smaller. The two rooms formed part of a suite of four and had a shared kitchen and bathroom. The two doors were open and the occupants will start to talk to each other shortly. A bit of a comfortable disarray in both of the rooms, but really quite clean otherwise. "Tracy? I don't suppose you feel like going out tonight?" "Sigh... Dawn. I have to go to work in the morning. Where did you want to go on a Monday night?" "Well it's just occurred to me that I've never visited 'The Raven'. I've admired everyone from afar for too long. I want to express my admiration to at least one of them." "Why Janette? If I was going to meet one of them, I think it would be Nick. You know that guy has a simply gorgeous smile." "I know he does Tracy. I got a copy of the picture you shot of him. However, Nick and Schanke are quite likely to be at work, and somehow my courage isn't quite up to meeting LaCroix tonight." "That's never stopped you before. I've seen you nervous. You start to crack jokes, and barrel right through the situation." "Hmmm, there's not much I can refute about that. Would you like to come with me? I'm going to call up Kathy too. We can all dress up in some black clothes and explore the Raven." "Dawn, you don't any black clothes." "Okay, But I do own a dark gray shirt. That should count for something." "I don't have an iron you know. I somehow doubt that the bouncer is going to let you in wearing an old wrinkly gray shirt and blue jeans." "You take the fun out of life. Very well, I'll just have to borrow some of your clothes. I'm sure they appreciate nice silk shirts even if they aren't black." "You want to go?" Dawn looked at Tracy. Tracy looked at Dawn. They both stared at pictures on the wall for a brief period of time (authors note: The Clanad was playing in the background). "Let's go." "Okay, I'll call Kathy and see if she can go." "Do you think anyone will notice?" "Nah... If they do, they'll just think were Knighties, or Nat-Packers trying to spy on Janette. The place is probably swarming with them." "So which of my shirt do you want to borrow. The gorgeous dark forest green one or the dark rust coloured one?" "Considering where we're planning on going, I don't think there's any real choice in the matter." --------------------------------------------------------------- Dawn steele@fern.physics.mcmaster.ca ----------------------------------------------------------------- --- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 21:06:40 -0400 From: "L.D. Steele" Subject: FKWARII: Ladies night at the Raven Early Tuesday July 12, 1am Despite protestations of work, Dawn had managed to drag Tracy and Kathy down to the Raven with her. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction had brought him back. Dawn had been curious for a long time. She'd seen the inside of the Raven lots of times on TV (Canadian episodes of course) but that didn't compare to the real thing. There was one rough point at the door. They were quite nicely dressed, but none of them were fit the profile of the usual Raven customer. Kathy and Tracy had managed to find some black clothes and put on the requisite heavy makeup, but Dawn had to make do with a dark red silk shirt with a matching miniskirt. Then there was the matter of makeup, or lack thereof. Dawn had left what little she had in PEI last summer, and never bothered to get any more. The pale skin fit in, but the freckles covering all visible surfaces didn't. In the end they had to sneak in while the bouncer was occupied with another group. "Come on. Lets get over to the bar." "You know Dawn, we might need our wits about us. Are you sure you want to get something to drink tonight? You don't exactly have a large capacity for alcohol." "I am leaving the Raven without ordering a glass of red wine." They ambled over to the bar. The music was loud with a strong beat and the dance floor was packed. Janette wasn't to be seen but Dawn managed to catch sight of Alma draped over a short man in the other corner. There were two bartenders behind the bar. The woman further down was dressed quite strangely (by Dawn's standards') in seventies clothing, and had purple streaks in her too-black-to-be-real hair. She appeared quite busy so they headed toward the blond man who looked a bit like a young Rutger Hauer. "Hi. What do you have?" The man looked at Dawn for a minute and then casually shrugged his shoulders. "Jeg taler ikke engelsk." "What? Hey that sounds familiar..." Tracy and Kathy were all in favor of heading down towards the other bartender. It was now clear why she appeared to be so much busier than the one they were facing. "No wait a minute, let me try something first." Dawn thought back to the language tapes she'd been putting in her walkman. "Taler De engelsk?" The bartender gave Dawn a broad smile. He'd managed to figure out what she'd tried to say, but the bad accent clearly indicated that she knew little Danish. "Nej" Tracy tugged on Dawn's shoulder. She wanted something cool to drink and standing around watching a language barrier in place wasn't fun. "Let's go." "I'm not leaving the Raven without getting a glass of red wine." Dawn straightened up and gave it her best shot. "Vi vil gerne have en flaske rod vin. That should do it." After a minute the bartender returned with red wine. Unfortunately he handed over an entire bottle. Dawn decided trying to figure out how to tell him she only wanted a glassful and paid for the entire bottle. She turned around and looked for Kathy and Tracy. They were gone. The poor lighting in the Raven didn't help her search but she finally found them talking to two elegantly dressed men on the other side of the dance floor. Their eyes seemed a bit dazed. "Kathy, Tracy? Are you going to introduce me?" Dawn had her suspicions and in the introductions that followed, she gave both of them a long handshake. She could feel the lack of warmth in their hands and had her fears confirmed when the hidden temperature detector in her palm gave her a warning tingle both times. Dawn was glad she wasn't wearing her glasses. Bad nearsightedness and astigmatism was a blessing sometimes. Combined with the poor lighting and being a bad subject for hypnosis, she managed to easily ward off any hypnotic influence they might have tried. "You know it's been very nice meeting you, but we were just planning a short visit to this nice club tonight. Checking it out as it were." Dawn grabbed sleeves and pulled them towards a booth in the back. She smiled madly at the two vampires as they left. Janette might not want vampires to actively hunt at the Raven, but accidents happen and Dawn wasn't taking any chances. The two men didn't seem too distressed. After all, the night was young. Halfway to the booth, Tracy and Kathy seemed to wake up a bit. "Hey! Weren't we over at the bar a minute ago?" "You know Kathy, maybe you shouldn't have worn your contacts tonight." They spent the next hour casually watching the other customers. Kathy didn't drink wine at all and Tracy would only drink a single glassful. Since Dawn didn't want to waste the nice wine, she ended up drinking over half the bottle." They didn't spent the entire time in the booth of course. They wandered throughout the crowd on the dance floor and had a few interesting conversations with the humans. Tracy spent an animated 10 minutes with the black and plum haired bartender discussing rings and where to get the best bargains in Toronto. Things went fine until (farsighted) Tracy spotted Janette heading toward the bar area. "I want to get her autograph..." "Dawn, don't you think it might be better to wait for another time? Like when you're sober." Dawn was in a cheerful mood, and as always when she'd had a bit too much to drink, found everything very amusing. "That'ss funny Kathy. I'm puurfectly able to go up and assk for an auto... autograph." "Let's go then." Kathy took a step back from the determined lurches of Dawn and whispered to Tracy. "Have you got protection in case things get out of hand?" Tracy whispered back, although it was doubtful that Dawn would have cared even if she could hear. "I've got an atomizer full of garlic juice. That'll stop her if I get a chance to use it." Janette didn't really pay attention to Dawn until she was quite close. In the Raven, Dawn's non-black clothes and non-tortured shoulder length straight brown hair stand out though. Janette could tell that the approaching customer had had perhaps a little much to drink and was prepared to call the bouncer if Dawn turned out to be an annoying drunkard. After all, Janette was the owner, she didn't have to put up with it. "Can I have your autograph?" Janette wasn't quite sure how to take the question, but when Dawn pulled out a pink piece of paper out of back pocket of her miniskirt she decided to humor her. "And who would you like it addressed to?" "Just Dawn would be great, you know I've always admired how you manage to take anything life throws at you and survive." "And would you be a Ravenette then?" Dawn thought about that for a minute, but then (since thinking took too much effort) she just went ahead and blurted out the first thing that popped in her head. "Actshually I've short of declared myshelf the head of the Die-Hards. Did you get the package I shent you?" (Authors note: Dawn tends to lisp a bit when she's had a bit too much to drink.) "Die-Hard? Perhaps you'd like to go in the back and we could discuss the many benefits of joining my very well dressed group?" "Oh, I couldn't. I'm a vegetarian." "And why would that stop you?" "I'd probably throw up all over you if I saw you drinking human blood, that'sh why." Janette looked at Dawn for a minute, then gestured to the bouncer. She had enough problems in her life without dealing with crazy humans. She absently tucked the pink paper in her pocket. "Get her out of here." Janette watched Dawn being led to the door. She wasn't really concerned with the encounter although a *I wonder what charter she sent me* did pop through her mind. She quickly turned to the handsome Danish man behind the counter and began an interesting conversation on the merits of back rooms and could he meet her there in half an hour. She felt like treating herself tonight, and he might be just the thing to do it. Outside the Raven: Kathy and Tracy picked up Dawn off the ground where she had sat after being left my the bouncer. Dawn was beginning to sober up when she noticed someone else approaching. "Good evening Dawn. I certainly didn't expect to see you here." Dawn looked at the woman wearing the black leather outfit and the image of a Killer Croc figure appeared prominently in her mind. "Jennise?" "Yes, it's me. I thought I'd drop by the Raven for a little refreshment. Have you thought about my offer?" Dawn had briefed both Kathy and Tracy about the vampire's offer of assistance as a Die-Hard. When her identity became clear and Dawn wasn't jumping to introduce them, they went ahead and introduced themselves. "Hello, I'm Tracy and this is Kathy. We're both Die-Hards." "It's a pleasure to meet you. Has Dawn had a bit too much to drink perhaps? She seems a bit disorientated." "She doesn't have any capacity to speak of so it doesn't take much." Tracy was measuring up Jennise. The offer of help was appreciated, but one had to be careful with vampires. You could never tell when they'd get a bit hungry and decide you looked appetizing. Jennise looked like she could control herself so Tracy relaxed a bit. "That's too bad. Perhaps we could talk more later when she's feeling a bit more coherent." "Hey! I heard that. I'm perfectly aware that my facultiesh are perhapsh a bit out of order. You're welcome to drop by the St. George anytime Jennishe." Kathy grabbed one of Dawn's arms and Tracy took the other. They both had to get to work in the morning, and it was time to draw this evening to a close. They all made the obligatory "goodnights" and parted company. ------------------------------------- --Will Dawn remember any of this in the morning? --Will Janette find the copy of the Die-Hard charter in the lost and found box? --Will that cute Danish guy end up being a late night snack? Dawn steele@fern.physics.mcmaster.ca ----------------------------------------------------------------- --- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 16:33:00 PDT From: jennise@dgi.com Subject: FKWARS II: Jennise snips her tail (Pt. 1) ------------------------------------------------------ EXT. SKY ABOVE TORONTO - EARLY TUESDAY JULY 12 - 2:15 AM Jennise dives around the side of a sky scraper. Keeping one eye trained on the skies behind her she pulls the cellular phone from her pocket. JENNISE Karin! I need you! Meet me at the Raven. NOW! PLEASE! She replaces the phone, flies up above the building and looks around. There's no sign of the man in the trench coat. JENNISE This night is NOT turning out like I planned. She flies toward the Raven. EXT. SKIES ABOUT THE RAVEN - NIGHT Jennise chuckles as she watches a Bouncer deposit Dawn on the side walk. She looks for a hidden place to land. EXT. RAVEN - NIGHT Jennise, barely able to hide her smile, strolls toward Dawn. Kathy and Tracy struggle to get her to her feet. JENNISE Good evening, Dawn. I certainly didn't expect to see you here. DAWN Jennise? JENNISE Yes, it's me. I thought I'd drop by the Raven for a little refreshment. Have you thought about my offer? Dawn smiles up at Jennise, her eyes glaze over just a bit. TRACY Hello, I'm tracy. And this is Kathy. JENNISE Pleasure. She's wasted? TRACY She doesn't have any capacity to speak of so it doesn't take much. JENNISE Too bad. Maybe we can talk more when she's more coherent. Jennise notices the Blond in the trench coat standing at the fringe of the crowd of people waiting to get into the cl