posted 10-01-2000 11:37 PM                  

Love Speed.

Low profile tires burn & smoke white.
Mag alloy wheels flash & dissapear into a cyclonic tumble of steel.
The auto-stick feels slippery in her hand.
Shit, she thinks. I'm bleeding too much for such a small hole.
Cracking open the air vents to rid the cabin of the stench of burned flesh & fear.
The car's frame shudders & yelps it's pain as she hits the open street, now free of the concrete & polycarbonite webbing of the highrise parking structure.
Dropping down a gear & crushing the accelerator under her foot, she feels her weight sink deeper into the soft leather seat. The seat's restraint systems kick in & multiple kevlar baffles autoinflate, supporting her rocketing body. A proximity alert rings out loud right before the other vehicle careens into her lane & then into the right rear panel of the speeding car, sending the steering wheel spinning in her hands.
Damnit! You fuckers are supposed to be eating donuts or something she thinks.
The silver authoritarian symbol of the TRUST Security Corporation explodes in her rearview mirror as she hits the brakes. A loud crunch of wrent multisteel & shattered photon-optics is audible as she plants her rear bumper into their grill. The Security Jeep shudders under the impact, but does not differ from it's course.
As soon as the two vehicles separate, she floors the gas pedal & twists the wheel hard over riding the inertia wave into an impossibly tight left turn. The Jeep's nose dives toward the asphalt trying to match the escaping woman's moves but the center of mass is too high off the ground to corner like the high performance car she is driving. The right front tire buckles under the stess of the heavy turn & implodes. The Jeep screams to a halt, carving a sparking violent gash into the fresh asphalt with scraps of tire tread fliying in all directions.
"Shit! This is car #48! We have lost visual on the perp! Last seen heading east on Cresant Avenue! Black sedan 900T! Plates removed."

Red lights beg her to stop. She feels the Scandanavian designed back tires finally bite & spit street after she clears the intersection 4 inches off the ground at over 80mph. Her dark eyes scan the mirrors for pursuit.
2 minutes have passed since the first alarms went off.
She wondered if he would wait for her.

The Osu low bike was everything she expected & more when she saw it up close. Her heart began to beat faster.
Top speed for top yen. Totally illegal for the street of it's own country & most of her's.
An illegal seat to get your illegal ass out of town he had laughed.
She had reached into her front pocket & pulled out the debit card as soon as she saw it.
"Give this to a guy called Makarov-D. His real name is Damien Yamamoto. He works tonight at the Corporate Vending Machines Rental repair shop over on the west campus. He will cash this out for you." her words leaden with lust as her eyes traced the silken CAD rendered curves of the Triton Racing l_Bike. Ceramic disk braked lined with titanium banding to allow the bike's magnets to stabalize the wheels at high speeds. The bike's torso couch made her body ache to climb onto it & feel the accelerator straps taught across her back. Bending her body onto its frame. Fingers deep inside the tight throttle gloves. To smell the raging fire under her bossom. The heat between her thighs. To feel it's iron heart roar to life next to hers & overwhelm all her fears.

She had gotten an afterschool job in highschool doing odds & ends mostly. Waitressing, "dusty" video nostalgia store clerk, hanging clothes at Kang's HK Imports. They all bored her but the money was acceptable. Her senior year in high school she was able to land a spot in the Autoshop class. One girl amoung 23 boys. At first they thought she was in the wrong class untill they saw how much she knew. That & she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She spent any spare time, either working for money to spend on parts or getting greasy on her car, a Dai-Nippon import built in Eastern California, called a Shinrai; or in English, a Reliant.
First she upgraded the wastefull exhaust system, geting a few more horses out of the pure stock vehicle. Then she got better tires & a new "fuzzy" computer controlled air/fuel injectors system. The turbo took her one week & three calls to the manufacturing plant to get it installed correctly. Soon her tools outnumbered her fathers & brothers combined. She was regularly attending car shows & her neighbors would ask her for 2nd opinions when they were having their own car problems.
For her 18th birthday, her brother got her tickets to go watch a l_bike race. She had heard about these new super high speed concept bikes. Designed by special computers sold off by the government. Computers that used to simulate particle weapon testing or something vaguely tech heavy she believed. She had also heard about the excessive fatality rate. On the green starting lights, 13 l_bikes blasted out of their starting pits, immediately igniting their high pressure nitro boosts, the sound like a thunderclap being pierced by a high speed dentist's drill, she had once heard in the museum, but sounding large enough to rip through a mountain's marrow. One rider died instantly in a thumping, black fireball on the 4th high banking turn.

Later that night, the high pitched whines of the engines burned into her sleep, encasing her in the twists & turns of their black chrome piping. Her white knuckles clentching a pillow between her knees, wishing for a column of power to bend her body around. Biting her lower lip as her fingertips traced airpaths of circles & arcs across her aerodynamic breasts, sloping stomach, & muscled thighs. The small battery powered fan at the foot of her bed did nothing to cool her. Her sheets pooled under the small of her back as her hips rocked against an imaginary wind of fire, biting into her. She rolled over onto her stomach, right hand holding her pillow to muffle her gasps, left hand deep under her satin waistband. Her thighs bent under her as her back curved to get lower to the speeding nocturnal asphalt. She rolled through the turns. Deeper & lower. Faster. She exploded wetly with a cry on a high banking climb towards the black & white checkered flag, her competitors long past.

That morning she knew that she had to get her own l_bike, no mater the cost. No mater how long it took.

l_Bikes were extremly dangerous to ride. Crashes at those speeds left only stains, not people, her brother used to joke. Her dad, when he was around, used to call them crotch rockets in his old grumpy, nostalgic way. Her father lamented her falling into the "Wrench" crowd, as her brother so coined it, & tried to get her to stop subscribing to all the vid-zines cds about the l_Bikes & sprint cars. For her graduation present her Dad bought her a Kontour/AG Racing helmet.
"I can't stop you from riding, but I can try to make sure you don't crack open your head & let all your smarts spill out onto the street." he said laughingly as she kept modeling it in the mirror. Mirrored face plate reflected into infinity, but her desire burning deep in her brown eyes that only she could see.

Then one day she saw an add in a local Dollar Trader magazine while at the laundromat in her dorm.

Imported Japanese Racing Bike.
2000 Miles. Owner moving & cannot keep.
Must sell. Best offer taken.

She sold her car, bought a monthly buss pass to get around the college campus, & kept her dangerous lover locked up in a storage shed out on her grandfathers property. On the weekends when she would visit her grandparents, she would go out to the shed to clean it. Lovingly. Spiritually. Fingers caressing the Multi-steel frame. When she mounted the bike, the sound of the shocks sighing, made her knees twinge. The brutally efficient bodycouch bent her body to it's will & made her breath come in quick gasps.

Purely stock she soon needed more.
She found her salvation on page 4 of December's Mod Magazine.

Modifications. Upgrades. High-end turbo delivery systems.
Specialty inquires welcome.
Lead designer, Rodan.

She knew of his crushed legs. She had watched as the safety air bags exploded in slow frame by frame motion. Swallowing his body. The worst wreck ever in the history of the Grand Nationals 6k. Miracle he survived ejecting from the l_bike & even more spectacular was how he was able to breathe today without a machine's help after that same burning l_bike chasis crashed into his kevlar crysalis, splitting it open & rending him in two. His leather glove on fire in the settling blood stained shedded kevlar & ceram-alloy brake dust.

{Imcoming message}
Robodan: meg.
megan: yeah?
Robodan: it's ready for you.
megan: what is?
Robodan: your "baby"...
megan: you're joking right? You quoted me 10 months just for some of the parts!
Robodan: I got a new supplier from Vietnam.
megan: How much of the original bike did you keep?
Robodan: You had a good eye when you picked up that Osu bike. Lots of good area on the frame. By the way, the new tires are badass. I mean, they are just plain cruel to the street.
megan: You rode it?
Robodan: Hell yes I rode it!
{Incoming data object: Accept?}
Robodan: Accept the D-file I'm trying to send you!
megan: it's 4 in the morning here! Why do I want to read a diagnostics file this early in the morning for? I have a Bio-Chem test in 6 hours, you know.
Robodan: Trust me. You will thank me later.
{Data object accepted}
Robodan: G'night my little Frankenstein...
{Opening...}

She felt herself go wet when she got to the horsepower/torque levels. Her breath coming in short gasps. She unzipped the tank top clinging to her erect nipples as her eyes carressed the figures again & again. Shifting in the chair, her underwear ground hotly against her. A slow hollow burn. Text relfected in her glasses. Black panties unsnapped & lying on her discarded silk tanktop. Scrolling numbers across her slick breasts & bare stomach. Power ratio graphs shot across her inner thighs, her feet now up on the desk, the monitor panel's light between her spread legs, burning her deeply. Her moaning body shuddering with creshendo when she saw the picture of it on the assembly rack, fresh paint gleaming & shifting like chameleon quicksilver under the panning video camera's spotlight.

She sent him a box of molecular graphite dust for his prosthetic legs the next morning.

{Connecting...}
megan: Rodan!
Robodan: ya?
megan: I love you!
Robodan: You been in your chemistry class too long little girl? Don't make me take one of my legs off & beat you with it.
megan: Ha! I'll just tie you down & have my way with your sweatty metal body, you know that.
Robodan: It's the chrome isn't it? Chicks dig the chrome...
megan: mmm...chrome....mmm...oh baby!
Robodan: By the way, thanks for the g-dust. My knees have never rolled smoother.
megan: Least I could do for my main man. Sooooo when can I pick her up?
Robodan: As soon as the payment's ready & the paint is dry.
megan: ah yes, uhm.
Robodan: What?
megan: there may be a problem with that.
{encryption engaged}
{secure conection established}
Robodan: What problem? Is there a problem? I can undo what I've done if there's a problem.
megan: No wait! No, there's no problem. I'll make sure to get your payment together.
Robodan: You sure it's no problem?
megan: No problem, it'll just take an extra day or two to get it all together, ok?
Robodan: ok then. just lemme know when.
{connection dropped}
-----
Still working on the rest...

------------------
s'kebe[TECH]"ARGH!MEDIC!"
BBTOMBA BBTONT
3rd Circle Holder of All that is Pop Tartiness
#1 Detractor of Tequila's Strawberry Poptarts
Creative pr0n writer wannabe & destroyer of cities

posted 10-02-2000 12:00 AM                  

I'm seriously considering buying a motorcycle next year, but I'd have to choose between that and getting a j-spec turbo swap for my MR2.

posted 10-02-2000 03:48 AM                  

"Headshot, nice," boomed a man�s voice behind her. Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the grip and as she lowered her arms slowly.

"Petrov," she smirked, "why am I not surprised to see you here?"

He grinned back with a silver smile and nodded towards her gun.

"Who did you kill to get that one?" he asked and she stared at him coldly.

"Careful which ghosts you raise, or shall we talk about your pretty little Melissa?" she sneered and gestured towards the Wilson CQB with the matte finish and a rough scar down the barrel that hung low under his right arm. Petrov glared and her and his right hand twitched as if he was repressing the urge to place a blow across the satiny smoothness of her face.

"You always bring up the past, Marie, it seems as if that is your only defense against me. Shall we see how defenseless you really are?" Petrov snarled and out of his hand appeared a Myerco Tactical, like a second thumb. He quickly slashed down and then across, but she leaped back and like a tarnished tongue appeared a Junglee hattori jr. in her shapely paw.

"Good God, Marie, you don�t have ANY taste at all, I guess it is to be expected," Petrov exclaimed as he saw her weapon. His sardonic smile quickly turned into a grimace as she neatly sliced him across his forearm.

"Taste doesn�t matter, actions do," Marie snarled and quickly circled behind him. He turned on his heel to face her and barely raised his fist in time to meet her blade. She pushed him back, his left heel grinding down into the dirt as the steel sparked between then.

"Still feisty, I see." A large man with an amused voice appeared in her line of vision. They immediately stopped their antics and turned to face him.

"Colonel Tomi, I had not anticipated your arrival," Petrov said, hanging his head and looking as guilty as a schoolboy playing truant for the first time.

"That is the point, Petrov. And you, Marie, as beautiful, and dangerous as ever," he said and brushed a hand over her cheek. She smiled and accepted the compliment with a nod of her head.

"Thank you Colonel, it has been a long time, perhaps too long. The ignoramuses who I have been working for are nothing more than hotheaded fanatics about whatever religion or cause they happen to be parading today. It will be good to have real leadership again," Marie purred and Petrov eyed her warily.

"Ahhh, spoken like a seductress, how can I deny your charm? Now, if you would please accompany me to headquarters I must show you a matter of importance, and, incidentally, the reason you both were called here."

They walked back through the desert course into a muggy jungle whose trees seemed to envelop the passerby with their tendrils in an almost claustrophobic way until you saw the plastic dome above their viney arms, almost reflecting a welcome and a smile at your fear.

"It�s been a long time since I was here; it�s changed almost beyond recognition," Marie said.

"Yes, it is now prime territory for our business and keeps our members in shape. However you two see enough action that you don�t need these measly training courses, right?" the Colonel winked and lead them into the slate gray building, cinderblock upon cinderblock, slits for windows and linoleum floors where every step could be heard, but were immediately absorbed into the concrete.

The meeting room was naked except for plastic chairs and a projector with an Apple powerbook hooked up to it.

"Oh geez, you have to be kidding, have we sold out to them too?" Petrov grumbled.

"Wow, everywhere I looked I saw one, now in here.. I don�t know what we are coming to," Marie added looking at the Mac with disdain.

"Quiet you two. This is what it was sent on and if this is the machinery they want to use, we�ll accept it, that�s what they pay us for," the Colonel grumbled as he began the video clip.

It was several combined shots of surveillance cameras as a small black sedan screeched to a halt in front of the main gate and then rammed through, burning rubber to beat the raising spikes designed to pop tires before they went any further into the compound. Cut to a leather figure running into the complex, shooting a glass door, glass door cracking, leather body pounding against the 2" thick glass until it broke, sending the body flailing on the ground. Marie barely suppressed a burp of laughter.. THIS was the person that tore her away from her Iraq assignment?

Cut to the computer room. The leather figure shuffling through files, bringing out small vid disks and tucking them away in her leather. Then running out.

Cut to the front, rent-a-cop cars flashing lights and second-hand cops pulling out weapons as she appeared out of the shattered door. She pulled out a small weapon, square and long, gun-like, without the stock and the security film grainy with many months of reuse. �stupid old-timers and their film�� Marie thought.

A light flashed from the muzzle and the screen went to static.

"That�s it?" Marie said and looked at the Colonel.

"You are kidding, right?" Petrov said, looking at the screen. "We are going after someone for VID DISKS?"

"You never look beyond the surface," the Colonel sighed and rolled his eyes as he powered off the machine. "The vid disks are of no importance to us, plus, it ended up that she got the dummy disks instead of the real client and bank files. The important thing is 1) who she is and who she is working for and 2) what it was that she used to disable the video. Why? Because it wasn�t just the video, it was all electrical components EXCEPT for the ones in ours, and her vehicles. We couldn�t see much other than that she was a female and she had on a Kontour racing helmet. Pretty primitive. I�m bringing in an op to brief you further about the area. You�ll pose as a couple and get any information that you can gather. Our client wants this quick and wants it quiet."

"Wait.. a second. What EXACTLY are we doing? A hit? A recon or what?" Petrov said, "I got pulled from Level 6 training to do RECON?"

"No, you didn�t," answered the Colonel, "don�t worry about that. We aren�t sure what the client wants right now other than location and information. The implication is they want to know who is behind this attack and the technology that has been used against them. You know that mods on vehicles have been permitted only with proper licenses because of the emissions and the new tire/suspension laws. The car was outfitted nicely, too nicely. Shouldn�t be too hard to track."

Marie and Petrov looked at each other with disgust, a paltry assignment to satisfy some investor. Called in because they were high ranking agents. What a bore.

"Okay you two, get outta here. You can rest up for a few hours; I�ll page you when our contact arrives," the Colonel grumbled and shooed them away.

Back in her room Marie looked at the clips again and again, zooming in on the leather figure. The hands caught her eye and she zoomed in on them. Specialty gloves, monogrammed� with an M. Things were looking up.

Perhaps too up, she thought as she lay down on her twin bed. As usual she wore a loose fitting shirt over underwear to bed but today it annoyed her. She pulled it off and stared at the ceiling, feeling the air cool her breasts and perk her nipples. Her mind drifted from the leather figure and she thought of the last time a man�s hands had touched her body with the intent of something other than her death. Then she thought of the new discreet laz-gun that she had handled back in Iraq. Incredible idea but so unstable, the mirrors so easy to misalign. Then back to her body. She felt her hands touch her stomach and the long horizontal scar from the masked man with the Sypderco Native in Guam. Then to her thighs, shapely, but with three puckers, her first wounds from the kid with the souped up civilian AR. Her mind diverted back into the craving between her legs, liquid tension that needed to be satisfied. A sheen of sweat covered her body and her breasts heaved with effort.

"Marie, could you please report to meeting room 1, please," said her pager.

Fuck.

posted 10-02-2000 04:55 PM                  

/me is lose. The only time a girl calls me & I have to ask her to call back...

posted 10-02-2000 05:25 PM                  

Stupid work! I never let it get in the way of my.. oh wait.. nevermind.

/me huggles s'kebe and hopes that his werk is over soonly.

Edit: cuz me is lose too

posted 10-03-2000 12:04 AM                  

Robodan: I don't want you using the Osu.
megan: What the hell am I supposed to do then? Wait for the next bus? Fuck that! My ass will be clocking over 160 AWAY from the Credit Building.
Robodan: And when you have to corner quick if they are expecting you?
megan:
Robodan: Yeah. What I thought.
megan: Please, I have to have those parts.
Robodan: I want you to have your dream realized don't I? But I want you to be able to enjoy it also. Take my car.
megan: Car?
Robodan: You don't think I spent all that prize money on Thai hookers & scotch now do you?

The Griffin Interceptor was a violent car to behold. Part Dragon, lion, & some other animals she remembered from reading in their add. It was over 5 years old but it looked pristine in the settling dust kicked up as she removed the neoprene slipcover. Pristine but undoubtable terribly, terribly fast.
"You're in my favorite color too, baby," she wispered in awe.
Midnight black. Black refractive paint to be more precise. Able to scatter IR, Laser, Sonic, & Microwave speed detection measures.
A rolling static boom.
Looking more like a coiled snake prepared to strike than 4 wheeled transportation, she took the key fob from her leather pants pocket & hit the red switch. Instantly the car hissed, crouching down 3 inches, released the door locks, & started the engine. Feeling a disturbance in her stomach she noticed the cycling security algorithyms on the keyfob, scrambling the car locks. Pressing the "i" button, data scrawled across the small pager sized screen. Fuel, tire pressure, oil temp, electrical charge, & other metrics anounced their readiness to the task at hand. She felt the short hairs on the base of her neck begin to rise as she walked around to the driver side. Letting a finger glide across the sculpted hood, chills sang out across her spine. She touched the access plate & the handle spun out of it's retractable areodynamic housing. Dark blood red leather interior. The car was allready into Night mode so the floor lights had come on when the door opened. She melted into the seat, the tight dark leather clad curvature of her thighs complementing the sensuous lines of the Italian designed seats.
"Oh fuck me," she moaned as the car came to life under her. The seat's sensors, calcuating her weight & leg length, silently rolled into the correct distance from the foot pedals. The lower lumbar support inflated, rolling her hips forward into the tight leather seamed crotch of her pants, while the spinal & cervical supports breathed into life & gaugued correct safety lines for the restraining belts, allowing her shoulders to relax back while jutting her breasts up & forward. The dash systems came to winked on as soon as her hands touched the steering wheel. Navigational, proximity, municipal traffic alerts, police & EMS band monitors. Thermal Imaging Assisted windscreen. She slipped on the carbonite eyes frames which controlled the rearview mirrors & assisted with glare reduction. Interlaced in the cabin's roof & support columns, minute sensors constantly monitored the angle of her head at all times. Her eyes opened wide as she shifted her head to the left & saw the mirror tracking her movement to always give her optimal viewing of whatever would dare to chase her.
She remembered asking if it was an automatic or a manual type of car.
"I said you had to drive it, not ride in it. Autos are for the weak!", she laughed trying to mimic his altruistic tone.

Taped to the backlit steering column mounted onyx racing gearshift was a note.
In speed we trust. Watch your ass. Dan.

She swore the car growled with a sound that she could only describe as wanton lust as she dropped the car into 1st gear & eased it out the the 18 wheeler's trailer.

3 nights earlier she had made arrangments to pick up the chemicals she needed for Rodan's payment. She had nearly dropped her 10 dollar drink when the hostess told her how much it would cost.
"But where am I going to get that kind of money?" she gasped, coughing out strong West Afican vodka.
"You must realize that the list you gave me is, well, quite exotic & hard to come by in this day and age. People have to be politely asked to look the other way. And then there is my finders fee to consider."
Sherri Kong then put a beautifully manicured hand onto Megan's scuffed & dirty leather gloves. Delicate gold circuit paterns laid in emerald lacquer on the hostess' nails, circled the rough material, massaging a deeper message into the younger woman palms.
"You know you have a certain something about you. I'm sure that a strong girl like yourself could make many men & women happy." dark eyelashes flickering an invitation.
As Megan's chest heaved to spit out a violent response, the 37 year old Asiatic woman put a perfumed finger on Megan's lips.
"Oh you are so cute when you get anxious! But please don't ruin that sweet mouth with such bad words. At least not here in public. Think about it, yes?" the woman lilted in that strangely French sounding accent of hers.
"Ah but your throat is dry, Michael here will take care of your needs", she quipped nodding to the man in the expensive suit behind the bar.
Looking deep into Megan's eyes, Sherri ran her thumb across the younger woman's lower lip, savoring the flushed heat & fullness of it.
"ach! But I must leave you now, my little firebomb, as I have some gentlemen from abroad that wish to hear me sing. Take care & do come back to visit me soon."

As the hostess drifted away into the blue cigarette smoke, the heavly muscled mexican bartender leaned over & slid Megan a box of matches & a thick padded envelope across the dark oaken surface.
Inside the matchbox was an address & a code combination.
The envelope held a gun.

"Holy shit!" she shouted out loud, barely audible over the roar of the beast that had swallowed her.
Zero to 100 in 2.9 seconds was only a dream she had read about on computer screens. Now she felt it firmly kicking her ass. Cross streets flashed by. Traffic lights blurred & turned into smears of neon.
Lying on the passenger seat was her helmet. She decided to bring it along for protection. Also to protect her identity in case of security cameras. In the helmet, the pistol shifted slightly as the ground sensors adjusted the suspension for a pothole in the street approaching at 84mph. She didn't like the fatal heavyness of it. Too permanent. It made this dream all too real. Once back in her dorm room she carefully examined it while her computer looked up the address contained in the matchbox. No markings on it, no serial numbers. Not even a company name. She had let the magazine drop out into her palm & was confused to not see shiny bullets. Tiny graphite colored pins, neatly alligned, each only about a quarter of an inch long.
"Ok I don't know what the fuck you are, but I hope that you aren't some fancy cigar lighter." her voice quavering as the magazine had clicked home into the polymer frame.
------------
more later...

Mad props to Dope for the much needed technical assistance!

posted 10-14-2000 08:25 AM                  

Light rain falls turing the streets to black gloss as Megan the theif streaks home.

The amber clock glows 2:35am as Marie tosses & turns on the fragile looking cot. She kicked off the pancho liner that was half draped across her overwarm body. Shucking off her boxers she turned over & tried to dream.

It hadn't been more than 8 months since she first rode a motorbike, and she was nervous. She had taken the required courses as a cadet the get her license & later on her interest had rationalized her purchase of a "Street Bike" class Tora while on assignment in Japan. She remembered the butterflys in her stomach as she was buying it at a cut-throat rate it off a young enlisted man as he & his wife were busy packing for their imminent return to Germany.
"Ja, they said that I cannot bring it back with me due to the pollution laws & the converter would basically ruin the bike's performance, so I decided to sell it."
"Well I'll just be using it to get around the base & town." she had muttered as she checked the bike for leaks & any defects.
Looking over his shoulder, he coughed & leaned closer the her, smelling faintly of cardboard & plastic packing foam.
"Be carefull. I had a local shop do all the maintenance.They really liked the bike & kept it in KILLER condition," emphasizing much to the visable disdainment of his pregnant wife.
She had paid cash & nearly laid the bike down on the highway while on her way home. That next week was a challenge every day to make it to the office alive.
Skip to three years later. On a Friday afternoon she had to go to the range to practice for qualifying with the C+polytech M23 Assault rifle. Pulling on her leathers in the Womens locker room, she overheard some junior operatives commenting on her new "look".
"I mean really, she just looks like a greasy guy."
"But with bigger hips!"
"Oh Susan! You are so mean!"
The giggling clung to her like a fog of cheap perfume as she grabed her gear & stormed out of the wasp's nest, not even fully dressed.
Her contoured, black leather full body suit was unzipped from her neck down to just below her navel, empty sleaves slashing the air with every angry step. Wearing her duty sidearm in a shoulder rig & a cut off white tank top, she nearly tore the door off the weapons cabinet while signing out the bullpup rifle.
"Got a problem Chief?", asked Weapons Officer Mosley.
Huffing out a deep breath she said "Nothing that 500 rounds of High Velocity AP ammunition won't cure."
In the parking lot she ran into Winston. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. A sinister, Matte black C+pM23 rifle strapped to her back, the dacron sling diagonally cleaving the white of her tight tanktop. .45 calibur handgun under her bare left shoulder, the heavy pistol's handgrip in line with her erect, cotton clad nipples. Knee high Cycle boots crushing walkway gravel between viscious steel reinforced treads. Her fit thighs sheathed in black leather that seemed to be painted onto her skin flowing down from the tight curve of her ass & her lower back. Her tanned navel & midriff contrasted sharply with the bleached white of her shirt & the dark, intricate silken lacework just barely visable between the chrome teeth of the unzipped leather body suit. Black sunglasses & tight black kevlar pucture resistant, Police gloves, firmly strapped down around her wrists. Her short, dark hair still wet from her recent shower.
It was all Winston could do to remember to close his gaping mouth.
"What the fuck's wrong with you?" she yelled.
"Nu..Nothing! Uhm I mean nothing's wrong ma'mm." he stammered out, trying desperately to avert his eyes from the Chinese tattoo peeking out from under the top of her black panties.
She swung her leg over the motorbike & pulled on her helmet.
Fucking christ she thinks.
"I'll meet you at the goddamn range, " she yelled as she turned the key & kicked the starter into life. Anger exploded to life between her legs as she dropped into gear & pealed out of the parking lot, leaving a black shadow burned into the asphalt to mark her violent exodus. Feeling the wind against her chest, her waist bent over into a crouch. The outdoor range was on the far side of the training field. 15 boring miles out in the middle of nowhere. As she neared the airfield, she saw some the advanced fighters being worked on by the ground crews under the cover of 3d tactile cammoflage netting.

Why the fuck not, she thought grinning evilly to herself.
Leaning over to her left, she rocketed off the paved two lane service road onto the busy tarmack.
Blasting by a ordinace team as the needle surged over 95, she crouched even lower to the fuel tank, her sturnum brushing the tank & her thighs tightening in their leather confines.
Cries of anger & alarm went up in respone to her yelling "Get the Fuck outta the way! Watchit!"
In the Air Traffic Control Tower, a cup of stale coffee hit the floor as a phone was ripped off the hook.
"This is Morgan in the tower! Get a Security team out here now! Marie's using my fucking runway as a goddamn dragstrip!"

Hot dusty wind raking across her bare shoulders. Sirens wailing off in the distance.
Colonel Tomi's going to chew my ass out for this, she thought.
"Let's make it for something good!" she yelled out loud as a radar technician leapt out of the way od the speeding woman. Hitting the end ot the sun bleached runway, she eased off the throttle & let the rear break loose to the right. Quickly clamping the rear brake & she screeched to a stop, nose now pointed back at the airfield & the scattered groundcrews. Looking back over her right shoulder, less than a quarter of a mile out, she saw the lights of an approaching plane on final approach.
The rising pitch of sirens told her that the security cars were getting close.
White smoke erupted out from under her rear tire as she pealed out, throttle wide open.
The security teams had circled around the runway hoping to catch her on the far side, now they watched as she exploded away from them.
In the tower, Morgan's hands went to his head as he watched her accelerate away from the approaching security jeeps. Quickly scanning with a pair a binoculars out to the right he sees the approaching plane drop it's landing gear.
"Watch out for my fucking planes, you crazy girl!!" Morgan yelled.
Colonel Tomi was on the phone In his office, as his aide knocked on the oak door frame making large motions trying to get his superior's attention. Cupping his hand over the mic, Tomi raised his eyebrows quizzically towards the aide.
"Sir! The Commander's gone nuts! She's riding her bike on the runway! Morgan's about the have a heart attack in the tower!", blurted the younger officer.
Tomi just smiled & rumbled,"Bring her to me when she's out of gas."

Her breasts were pressed hard against the hot fuel tank. She heard a witches howl around her increasing as a only high power scramjet is capable of making. Her dark eyes flicked to her rearview mirror. A dark stealth supersonic shadow was RAPIDLY swallowing up her view of the rearward horizon.
"Green light means, go baby!!"
She bared her teeth & hung on as she opened the throttle all the way. The front tire sprung off the ground as she almost flipped over from the sudden acceleration. She ground her crotch deeper into the seat trying to grip the sides of the now nearly verticle, padded seat with her inner thighs. Gasping for breath as the bike lurched to full power & thrust it's strength up between her legs. She felt the engine's throb pierce through her stomach & deep into her lust. The two jeeps broke off pursuit as the fighter closed the distance almost on top of the security teams. She felt a hot blast of wind on her back & even through the leather covering her ass. Sound was gone to a white static wave cresting over hear. Knuckles bone white gripping the throttle. The cycle's engine rocked under her hips, climaxing her body across the streaking gray asphalt on one blurred wheel. Accellerating at over 150mph a mere 25 feet ahead of the screaming areospace fighter, she experianced the real need for speed.

Later, she was shoved into Tomi's office.
"Sir, here's the prisoner as you requested."
Colonel Tomi grunted to the two men, dismissing them.
His sharp eyes bored deep into her soul.
"Close the door Commander." he ordered.
She crisply turned on her heel, marched two steps towards the door, closed it, perfectly spun around again & returned to her exact starting point.
"Was that your idea of shortcut, Commander?"
She bit her lower lip as she tried to stand up even straighter.
As he came around to the front of his steel desk, she was aware of the smell of her own sweat, her very musk. Her nipples felt like seering points of metal burning through her thin shirt & the hot wetness of the thin lace tightly ground inbetween her legs.
"Commander, in all my years that I have known you, this is by far perhaps the most reckless, dangerous, & downright plain stupid thing I have ever had the displeasure of hearing about."
Oh christ she thought, I'm one dead girl.
"All I want to know if one thing", he growled.
She inhaled a deap breath awaiting his inquisition.
Tomi reached in his coat pocket & withdrew a pack of cigarettes.
Lighting the fresh tobacco, he asked, "So tell me Marie; was it good for you?"
Marie's composure cracked & she let out her pent up breath in a burst of laughter.
Gigling she said "Better than sex, sir." as he knowingly nodded.

posted 10-14-2000 02:27 PM                  

quote:

---

I need to give the bike an overhaul," she moaned as her hands worked her accelerator

---

hehe

posted 11-04-2000 04:04 PM                  

Marie finally hit pay dirt.
Three nights after the chemical lab heist, a post on racing modifications invite only message board had mentioned that under-table work for "couriers" could be found at this club.
Standing outside she watched a mix of military personnel, local college students, husbands, wives, all get frisked by club security wearing metal detection gloves. The same Kevlar re-enforced glove Police officers wear except these gloves has metal sensing filaments embedded in the fingers. They also gave one hell of a punch. All who wanted entrance were checked thoroughly. All except a few who used the side door after being nodded on by the doormen.
The Taikei, or as her rusty Japanese translated the characters into something like "arranged body of ideas", catered to all customers. The "System", in English, had everything from a dance club in the basement, art gallery, live sex shows on stage, a 5 star restaurant, "radio" broadcast node, to closed-door penthouse parties.
Marie decided that she might have actually come here on her own even without her mission requiring her attendance.
Then she saw the thief.
Wearing an oversized leather racing jacket and an impossibly tight black body suit with the same Kontour/AG Racing helmet from the grainy security video. She quickly walked up the doorman & was nodded on towards the side entrance. Marie immediately moved to get in line for entry. Quick but thorough hands passed over her body pausing momentarily at the slight hint of something flat & solid between her breasts under her coat.
"What's that?" the 6.5 foot tall mass of synthetically made muscles asked, his forefinger tapping the small flat object on her chest.
"Oxygen conditioner." Marie shouted to be heard over the sonic pounding emanating from behind the 3 inch think steel doors.
"Aww Christ, not another one of you blue facers. Look you keep that thing in the normal range while on the premises. If you deviate, I'll turn that chest valve of yours off but permanent like. You got me?� his breath hard with stale coffee & cigarettes.
"Sure-thing-whatever-you-say-boss-man." said Marie letting her eyes glaze over as she slipped deeper into her "choker" cover.
"Go head on in. Remember, you die tonight, it ain't our fault,� he grumbled shoving her towards the cash box windows. She pressed her thumbprint onto the AD&D waiver & paid her entry fee. Standing before the heavy doors, Marie noticed dust falling from the overhead lights, kicked loose by an invisible foot.
She felt her heart physically skip a beat as the doors opened for her & the subsonics blasted unimpeded into her body.
Lights flashing in time with neural pulses. Smoke loaded with pheromones. The humidity alone made her shirt instantly wet & cling to her skin. Her eyes slowly accustomed to the low level lighting coursing through the veins in the walls. Clear lexan tubes running vertically in the walls glowed a bio electric blue green as ancient creatures were brought back to life & put to work. The pattern continually shifted & moved as the flow carried them through the entire club level. She walked along the steel catwalk towards a bar & then she saw them. Strobes erupted & in monochromatic frames of energy she saw the pit erupt 25 feet under the elevated platform. Hundreds of bodies, moving in syncopation with the thundering pulse. Waves upon waves of flesh in various stages of undress, grinding & rolling against each other, like the innards of a well-lubricated machine. Inhibitions & innocence lay in the corners, discarded with the same zealous abandonment that people were removing their clothing upon entering the writhing pit. Straining her eyes, she made out couples, three & foursomes, and some groups too large to count, enthusiastically joined at hips & mouths, pumping in time as the speakers heated the room with acoustic energy. As she penetrated into the depths of the club, the temperature rose another 20 degrees. Hanging above the bar, huge stainless steel AC units dumped cool air in a curtain around the bar. Her skin prickled up as she stepped through the wall of cold. Vid panels flashed captured images from the dance pit. Faces covered in a sheen of sweat. A glimpse of a stomach & a woman's breast. White flash of steel through nipple. Long indigo blue nails clawing at a man's belt buckle, seeking entrance. Long black hair sticking to someone's thighs.
"Get you something to drink?"
Marie was startled by the sheer size of the bartender. Dark olive skin, crisp white shirt, piercing eyes.
"Coffee. Black. Two Ice cubes." she said flatly.
Michael looked at her for a moment, sensing something different about this stranger.
"You a cop?" he quizzed her while looking for an Ironstone mug to hold the coffee.
Her eyes kept searching the vid panels for a glimpse of the girl amid the segmented canvases of lust being painted on high rez plasma screens.
She returned his gaze just as he settled the steaming mug in front of her.
"You were saying?" she returned the question, gently sipping the dark blend.
"What's your business here?� he asked, harder now.
"I'm looking for a little action I guess." retracting her tongue quickly, preventing a burn.
He smiled & waved both arms out towards the hot dark area beyond the cool cocoon of the bar.
"All the action you could ever want is here. You just have to grab it while it's in front of you." his white teeth shining in light.
The vid panel on her three o'clock blazed to life as a Backlight spotlight swept the crowd. Kontour/AG Racing logo.
"Well I ... I saw this one girl while I was outside. Killer body. I didn't know who to ask but I was wondering if she might be "available", if you understand what I mean." she said, affecting semi confidenence at arrangements of the business kind.
"Depends. There are lots of girls here. Do you know her name?� Michael feeling his cash account growing in the near future.
Swallowing a bolt of hot caffeine, Marie shook her head, waiting for the inevitable question.
"Can you describe what she looks like?� he pressed.
Hooked, she thought.
"Yeah. She had a red leather jacket with logos all over it & she was carrying a motorcycle helmet."
She saw confusion cloud his eyes.
Lowering her eyes she said, " And she was wearing the tightest body suit I have ever seen."
Michael's face lit up & she knew she was on her way to an introduction.
Megan had made the data drop-off upstairs & had some time to kill. She headed downstairs to talk to Michael & watch some people on the dance floor. Leaving her helmet behind the bar, she walked out onto the catwalk towards the spiral stairs that descended into the frothing orgy. The dual DJ's had the pit whipped into a frenzy & was pushing them harder. The beat was crushing. German acoustics pushed more & more energy into the room. This energy translated into inescapable heat. The heat to sweat. Sweat that was trickling down the small of Marie back as she stood under the catwalk, tailing her thief. She had already almost broken one idiot's wrist when he had clutched onto her breast. Marie pulled out her phone & called Michael to make the arrangements.
Megan�s foot was tapping in time as the bartender approached her.
"Hey Meg got a sec?� his hand light on her shoulder.
"Sure, what's up?"
"I just got a call about a job for you. Oh here, you want the rest of this?� he asked pressing the cool drink into her hands.
As she drank he told her that one of the clients was actually here in the club & wanted to meet the woman responsible for all the great work & to personally thank her.
"Ok. Dinner sounds good to me. I haven't eaten all day. Where are they?"
Michael pointed down into the sea of sin.
"How am I supposed to find them in there?"
"Well they know what you're wearing." he said fingering the glossy black material on her forearm.
Megan set her shoulders, chugged the rest of the icy drink & handed the empty glass back to the bartender.
"Watch my lid for me, will you? I'll pick it up from behind the bar later".
Megan unzipped the suit a little to ease the heat emanating from inside its liquid velvet caress as she headed down the spiral stairs.
She stayed on the fringes watching her work her way through the crowd. This thief was not a "professional" Marie determined quickly. Most pros have a way of moving that separates them from normal people. She was definitely armed with something on the left side of her jacket, but Marie was too far away to determine what it was for certain. She would have to get closer.
The beat began to shift into a segue, telltales of something harder coming. Echoes of breathing drifted in & oscillated, faster & faster, bending up a LFO sweep & down into a distorted roar of mechanics & human heartbeats.
The room exploded as the remix was recognized.
Lights burned down from the dark smoke filled heavens as lasers fired into the crowd. The crowd surged onto the stainless steel floor as the punishing beat sent primal instincts into their bodies. Marie flowed with the group towards her target. Smoke dropped from a port in the ceiling, heavy with steam, to fill the pit even more. Megan felt hot. She unzipped the suit a little more, down where her normal neckline was, & kept searching for the client Michael had told her about. Medium tall, dark suit jacket, sunglasses. She passed a few people that she vaguely knew from school, even coming across an "item", from her Bioengineering course, deeply in the throes of passion. She watched his hips thrusting into the opening of her leather skirt. Megan's eye caught a brief strobed glimpse of his engorged wet nakedness before it sank up to its hilt into the arching girl.
The room began to feel heavy & thick with choking humidity. Most of the club's working dancers were either topless or completely nude in their spot lit mirrored cages. The paying crowd had followed suit & had removed most of their clothing also.
Megan unzipped the suit a little lower, stopping just above her the curve of her bust. The DJ's kicked over into a double break beat, quickening the pace. Sweat dripped down into the hot space between her breasts. Her pulse began to accelerate, trying to match the room's tempo. Energy transferring through osmosis into her bloodstream. The suit's liquidity made her body feel like it was buoyant in a pool of body temperature water. The zipper traveled lower again sending a ripple through her body. Her nipples crinkling awake from their slumber. Her stomach fluttered as pulses ran down her spine, to erupt in the space between her legs. She opened her racing jacket all the way & let the slightly cooler air, wash over her slightly exposed chest. Her inner thighs quivered. Running a hand through her wet shoulder length hair, she let her right hand fall to her neck, pulling back the collar slightly. Off to the left was a man with two women on a speaker cabinet. All three were nude & part of the stage show. As Megan's hand drifted to her zipper again, she watched as the two beautiful women facing each other erupted over the man, one right after the other. The blonde was riding his arching pelvis, the sheen on her back & thighs reflecting the lasers & strobes firing off around her. Her hands & mouth playing across the Asian woman's breasts & neckline as well as the man's moving chin was seen jutting out between the slim dark thatch of pubic hair between the brunette's legs. The blonde's hips began to grind forward across her partner. She pulled the other woman closer and let her tongue twirl around a brown nipple. Megan's zipper traveled lower as the man's hips came higher & higher off the cabinet surface. She felt a droplet of hot sweat land on the slope of her now exposed stomach. Looking down she saw that the suit had retracted to the point where the hot points of her breasts were barely covered. The blonde�s hips rocked forward faster & faster in the spinning lights, her lips baring white teeth, jaw clenched in quickening ecstasy. The Asian woman threw her head back as her thighs pulsed & constricted over the man's face. The drum beat creshendoed as all three participants spasmed & fell into each other's arms.
The lights seemed to smear before her eyes. Crystalline pops hanging in the air. Megan's feet felt stuck into the hot plate of steel on the floor.
A dark shadow absorbed a spotlight sweep off to her right.
"Megan. We've been looking for you."
Iron hand on her shoulder. Smoked green glass eye frames. Black suit & tie.
"Hey! Leggo of my arm, whashamatter wit you!� her voice slurred under the drug's effect.
He reached under & folded her wrist back towards her elbow. Megan�s went to her tiptoes as the man prepared to walk her out of the orgy.
"Come along now. Don't cause a scene," his voice cold & direct.
Megan was moved towards the spiral stairs.
"Lemme go! That hurts!� yelped Megan, pleading him now.
The man halted for a second to readjust his grip on the girl as a flash of light blinded them for a second.
"That's MY girl you're messing with,� a female voice growled off to his left.
Marie stepped in out of the glare with her right foot, pinning the man's left foot to the ground. She rocked forward over her hip driving her knee into his. As his balance cracked & his hips fell backwards, Marie picked up her right foot & stabbed out twice with her the tip of her shoes. Once into his bladder & the second into his neck. The man crumpled into the underbrush of dancing legs & floor smoke.
Megan's eyes tried to focus on the woman in front of her. Sunglasses. Black business suit jacket buttoned up, no shirt beneath. Dark hair slicked back. The woman's hands flickered & blurred. Megan dreamily felt something brush down the front of her body, grazing her breasts, her belly, & sweep both sides of her wet inner thighs. Megan spun around as the hands played down the sides of her body & dragged their fingers up the back of her thighs, each of her cheeks & the small of her back.
Feeling the girl's limp hand still in hers, Marie spun her back around & pulled her close.
"Let's go grab some air", said Marie into Megan's ear, gasping for breath in the choking heat.
Megan fell into the woman's arms, her head resting into the crook of Marie's neck.
Soon Marie, after struggling to keep the girl upright in the elevator, opened the suite's door & helped the girl in.
The girl stumbled & fell onto the room's chocolate brown leather couch.
"So who was that guy? You know him?� Marie asked checking the girl's pockets for ID.
Megan shook her head trying to clear her swimming vision.
"What's wrong with you? Are you sick or something,� Marie asked watching the girl's pupils actively dilate from the overhead lights glow.
The girl laid back & closed her eyes. Marie peeled an eyelid back & flashed a hand light across the thief's eyes, seeing the telltale sign of drugs.
"C'mon you. Let's get you to a friend I know. He'll fix you up. Wake Up!" sighed the woman pulling the girl up off the couch.
Marie shook the girl for a second to wake her up.
She weakly smiled & tried to stand on her two feet albeit swaying.
Marie laughed & said "Tell you what, how about I just leave you here, I'll go get the car, & we take a ride ok?"
The locked door clicked once & swung open to a wall of black suited men.
Marie & Megan looked up as the men poured into the room.
Three men took up position by the door & 4 others spread out into the corners of the room.
One man, wearing black gloves, stepped forward & pointed at the thief.
"You took something else that you were not supposed to, Megan. We have come to take it back."
"Hey what the hell! I locked that door!� feigning anger at the intrusion, Marie stepped in front of the lead man.
"Out of the way." he said sidestepping Marie's advance in order to get to the girl.
"Now hang on one minute. I paid for privacy & I want it. Get the hell out!"
Again he moved & avoided Marie's angling.
Something clicked in her head & she knew that she was dealing with trained men.
"You are coming with us." he boomed to the thief, freezing her in his gaze.
Marie stepped between them, her left arm coming up, shielding the young thief.
"Back off." she ordered the agent.
"I can't do that, commander. I have my orders."
A silent signal was given & each man drew weapons from under their coats.
"Last chance." hissed Marie, her cover blown open.
"Yours too." he grimaced.
The black weapons of the agents never wavered their mark. Megan's heart pounded in her chest as her breath came in short gasps. This is it, she thought, shocked awake now. I'll never make it out of here alive.
Marie's eyes hardened. She felt the young woman slowly shift her weight backwards, seeking shelter behind Marie's body.
"Hey Thief. Cover your ears,� the older woman whispered.
The Marie's hands darted to her chest & the polyknife flashed out from its hiding place, sinking to the hilt into the man's throat. Marie spun, reached under Megan's jacket, & grabbed the butt of the handgun out of the young woman's inner coat pocket. Hugging the girl close, Marie flexed her legs & threw both of them over the back of the room's leather couch.
Megan's eardrums then overloaded as the agent's weapons discharged & the lights went out. She felt someone push her down hard to the floor & something pass over her. Bright steel casings appeared frozen in mid air in the strobed muzzle flash effect. Cordite burned into her lungs as Megan quickly buried her face into the floor. Sparks exploded in the darkness as lead ricocheted off the steel beams in the walls. The leather couch started coming apart as it was riddled with round after .40 round impacting into it's smooth, buffed surface.
Megan then felt something that she could only describe as an airborne tidal wave crash through the room.
Marie had opened up with the prototype on full automatic.
The prototype shrieked vengeance & spat blue-orange fire. The hypersonic darts ignited out of the barrel & decimated their targets at over 5000 feet per second delivering a cataclysmic kinetic energy dump into whatever it met. As Marie shifted down & to the right, she brought the weapon up & fired a ringed burst into the trio of agents by the door. The hardwood door instantly erupted outwards into charred splinters as she briefly caught a terrible glimpse of chewed body parts being spat out the freshly sawn exit, wetly smacking into the hallway.
Marie reached down and grabbed the back of the girl's heavy jacket with her left hand & pulled her up.
"Get out!" Marie yelled as she shoved the young girl towards the messy exit while simultaneously opening the gates of hell into the other darkened corners of the room. Megan slipped on the floor, fell on her ass, & slammed into the wall on the other side of the destroyed door in a pool of hot blood & floating door remnants. Megan opened her eyes & saw a ball of fire over 3 feet in diameter erupting from the woman's outstretched hands. Her eyes squinting in the enormous flash, teeth bared in anger, suit coat & hair blown straight back from the backwash of energy being unleashed. Seeing the girl clear of the deathtrap, Marie turned, squatted, pulled the trigger & kicked her heels out, skimming out of the room on her back, using both hands on the gun to control it's hard kick & deadly touch.
Crashing into the other girl, Marie rolled over & came up into a tripod. She saw two club security guards bursting through the elevator doors just as she sent an arc of death to meet them. One was instantly beheaded, his upper body knocked back & down with such force, his left foot came out of his boot. The other man was diagonally cut in half from his right shoulder down to his left hip, spraying bone fragments & twisting viscera in all directions. The darts impacting on the far side of the hallway left 14-inch wide craters in the green marbled walls. Megan's hand came up to her mouth trying to hold back the hot gore screaming for exodus.
"No time for that! Gotta go! C'MON GET UP GET THE FUCK UP GO GO GO!" Marie shouted ripping the girl off the ground & dragging her down the hallway past the two ruined men. Nearing the elevator, Marie�s eyes widened as she saw the damage she inflicted on the now wrecked elevator.
"Fuck it! Take the stairs!" she spat, slamming the stairwell door open with her hip. Megan's motorcycle boots echoed into the concrete canyon. Sprinting down the stairs, Marie heard more men coming up. Faster she thought, taking the stairs 4 at a time, leaving the young woman behind, and struggling to keep up. Must get to them before they see us, Marie thought.
"Look out!" cried out a male voice, too late.
Megan could only watch as the older woman fearlessly sprung up onto the railing & kickoff with both feet. Marie leapt out into free space of the stairwell, black pistol screeching to life, tearing a hole through the living wall of flesh that was rushing upwards, trying to contain them. Diving through a swarm of attacking lead, Marie's dormant emotional volcano finally erupted into a pyroclastic roar of pure adrenalized hatred. Waves of bright scarlet crashed & flowed down the dark concrete stairs as the living dam burst it's banks & crumbled under the prototype's fiery assault.
Megan could not hold back the toxic mix in her guts any longer as she saw the 5 agents turned into hamburger before her eyes. Her stomach convulsed itself to a dry husk into a dank stairwell corner. Wiping her mouth, she turned as the sounds of battle quieted, echoes carried aloft on clouds of burnt propellant. Her last vision before the strain took effect was that of the woman, covered in blood & gore, rising from a crater of burning flesh. A smiling demonic Phoenix, rising from the ashes of destruction to consume its enemies.
Then, mercifully, Megan was gathered into the arms of the void.

-----
Hope this doesn't get me into too much trouble....
I'm going back to bed now. I'll try to have the final post ready sometime next week.

------------------
s'kebe[TECH]"ARGH!MEDIC!"
BBTOMBA BBTONT
3rd Circle Holder of All that is Pop Tartiness
#1 Detractor of Tequila's Strawberry Poptarts
Creative pr0n writer wannabe & destroyer of cities

posted 11-04-2000 04:20 PM                  

I love Marie.

posted 11-06-2000 11:31 AM                  

quote:

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BTW, neither Notepad or Wordpad do not have spellcheck much to my surprise....

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Then why are you installing Word, dumbass!

posted 11-07-2000 10:30 AM                  

Hi Skebe!

posted 11-07-2000 05:29 PM                  

In other notes, noone has heard much from Ligur after the NW Summer Camp. *diabloic laughter*

posted 11-10-2000 10:45 AM                  

Don't think you're safe, Lurky.

Note: Damn, my original pw is lost at the moment.... Must find, I had many posts. Now someone will jump at me for being a lame newbie ;-)

posted 11-10-2000 12:10 PM                  

/me looks like Morpheus in the Dojo training program after asking Neo "You think thats air you're breathing?" (phew!)