From: kjc@asylum.apocalypse.org (Kelly J. Cooper)
Date: 22 Jul 1995 12:58:53 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: Aven-ryx returns to find some companions


jimmoore@er5.rutgers.edu (James Moore) writes:
>>
>>"Gina M. Jenkins" <gina@Birdsong.Sunnyvale.CA.US> wrote:
>>
>>I wonder if there are kindred around. She thought to herself. Perhaps I
>>can find...no. He was killed long ago, I am sure.
>>She scans the room with her cat-like eyes. Then approaching the bar,
>>she tells the barkeeper, "Recieved any news lately? Or perhaps heard of
>>any jobs that need to be done?"
>
>The stranger walked into the Inn and sits in a lonely corner.  After lighting
>a small cigar he looks around and spies his prey.  "Aven-Ryx," he thought to
>himself.  "She will not last long in Generica, her Fate was sealed when she
>entered that door.  Victims.  Everyone is at risk.  No one is safe.  She will
>learn soon enough.  How will she die?  Silently? With a scream? How?..."

  Jameson W. Walker walked slowly down the stairs, digging the heels
of her palms into her eyes and yawning prodigiously.  Wandering
through the bar she waved languidly at Rowan and his wife, Mary.
Noting their minimal response and tight expressions, she glanced
slowly around the room, her eyes not quite focusing but eventually
managing to follow their gaze to A Dark Stranger Sitting In A Corner.
Capitalization included.  Above his head was a fluffy white thought
balloon filled with murderous phrases written in a dangerous looking
font.  "That funky dagger font," she mused, then peered cautiously
above her own head for a thought balloon.  But she wasn't being
dramatic enough to quite warrant one.  "Kardia would know the name of
that damn font.  I think Ann Rice uses it."

  She wandered over to his table.  "Hey, dude," somewhere behind her
she could feel deeply resonating organ music building, "Dude, listen,
did you ask the lady's permission before you started planning her
ignominious demise?"  The organ music faltered and faded.  She shook
her head and walked away, toward the bar.  Grinning, she accepted the
glass of orange juice Rowan held ready for her and commented, "I've
met Death.  She's much cuter."

--
Kelly J. Cooper                                   kjc@apocalypse.org
Writer for Jameson W. Walker            Keeper of the Mage Guild FAQ
            http://www.apocalypse.org/pub/u/kjc/home.html
         "How long before wings?"  -mary szmagaj, "nocturne"

[ADMIN: Disclaimer - No offense intended.  I just think pushing an
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show by example.  You are more than welcome to ignore this.]