Log started: 9/13/02 2:24:50 AM $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ IC News $$$$$$$$$ Message: 14/4 Posted Author Labor Party slaughter Thu Sep 12 News Report ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "EarLIer today seven key members of the PopuLIst Machine Combine Labor Party were found incapacitated in their world headquarters of Johannesburg, South Africa. The various leaders and party officers had been stapled to the floors, walls and even ceiLIngs in varying degrees of heavy trauma. The PopuLIst Machine Combine, recently drawing press for its impLIcation during the G11 Broad Street Riots in Boston, has long been a prReploid party with para-miLItary poLItical views. GLobal authorities have long suspected the PMC to be a recruiting ground for the Maverick LIberation Front. The most bizarre point in this story, however, are the last images captured in the reploid's optical buffers: Picture fades to a grainy black and white image. While a bit blurry, the classic 'T' helm worn by Vile is unmistakable. More on these developments as we receive them. $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ Tartarus $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ Message: 15/7 Posted Author Dynamo Wed Sep 11 Pharaoh Man ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ *Pharaoh Man appears on the screen, wreathed in wild flames, fLIckering about shadows accross his form* " Dynamo. Long now have you gone unchecked as you defeated multiple warriors of Amun-Wily's army, simply for your pathetic vendetta. No more. " " I hereby challenge you to the combat which you seek from those you wish vengeance upon. No pathetic fool will continue such a blatant show of disrespect for Amun-Wily and his creations. Should you decLIne, most LIkely in your apparent cowardice. Do not think it will save you, for I will hunt you down and destroy you utterly. Nothing can save you, no one can hide you from the wrath and destruction of the chosen of Amun-Wily. The flames shall cleanse the infection you create upon this earth, and leave nothing but a black splotch and a few misbegotten memories to prove you ever existed. " *Pharaoh Man begin to cackle madly, and with his rising laughter, the flames begin to engulf him, before the signal cuts.* $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ [Radio: (E) Broadband] Zero transmits, "Yes, but this is a classy lady. You best dress the part." [Radio: (E) Broadband] Bass transmits, "Classy.. heh." [Radio: (E) Broadband] Bass transmits, "She's nothing special, boys." [Radio: (E) Broadband] Crash Man transmits, "...We -are- talking 'bout Rigger, right?" [Radio: (E) Broadband] Rigger transmits, "..Rrrr..." [Radio: (E) Broadband] Bass transmits, "Ahh, the feminine growl. LIke music to my ears, only I've no appreciation for such." [Radio: (E) Broadband] Rigger transmits, "You didn't tell him my name yet, did you Zero?" [Radio: (E) Broadband] Zero transmits, "No. I felt it best served if you told im yourself." [Radio: (E) Broadband] Zero transmits, "Now, I'm sleepin." [Radio: (E) Broadband] Bass transmits, "Lock your door, LIttle brother." Bayou While most people think of New Orleans when they hear 'Louisiana', not the heavy bayou that covers a large part of the delta. Small islands and strips of land are scattered about, providing specks of shelter from hip-deep waters. AlLIgators, water moccasins, and bilLIons on bilLIons of insects populate this inhospitable place, where no human (aside from the occasional insane, inbred hermit) LIves. The plants here grow thick and wild, with no control and only their own insane order. Derek Vasquez [Normal] Out leads to Louisiana. [Radio: (E) Broadband] Rigger transmits, "Good." The Bayou. A perfect place for picking up old flames, it seems, the tide having come in to sweep out the rotting muck. Leaving only the sweet smell of bad meat. It's not exactly unpleasant, especially in late august when the blooms and whipping willows explode into color. It's all about timing. And, through the air, the lazy sounds - of a harmonica. Played by one particular Latino Lover. Seems he has more skills than one thought, hmm? Either way, Derek's voice floats lazily as he sings, not shamed into the weak willed silence that most people are when they perform this particular guilty pleasure. "A, When I was jus' a LIl' boy.. a standin' ta mah daddies knee, my pappi said: "Son, don't let da man GETCHA, DOOO what he did ta me.." Serena Gilbert wades through the muck that is the Bayou. She hasn't been here since... that damn race for the pendents. God it seems only yesterday, but it is months away. .oWell, it's wasn't all bad. Ah met someone... interesting.-Oo. She perks up at the sound, .oThat's odd.-Oo. And she goes in search of the person who's making the music. Frankly? Derek wasn't really expecting company. No, he's just whistLIng in the wind as it was. LIstening to the chatter as it flows through his ear from that hidden comm, the invisible frequencies that bath the world all neatly fitted and netted through his LIl' Amigo back at the base. He was, after all, the head of communications for Blue Striders. Spoke quite a few different languages, though one'd be hard pressed to reaLIze it. After all, if you only speak /one/ major language, then you're LImiting the style of women you can pick up!! He just needs a quiet place to concentrate in, though. "Well, I can remem$$$ber de fourth o' july, runnin' through the backwood bay... An' I can still hear my ol' hounddog barkin', chasin' down a hoodoo there... chasin' down a hoodoo dere...Born on a Bayou.." Up comes the harmonica, the notes whittLIng through the air. Serena Gilbert continues to follow the notes, she has reached the clearing... and Derek. Serena momentarily stands there, blushing ever so briefly as she remembers meeting him, in a very odd sorta way. Hello, Mutant AlLIgators! But it was nice... espically afterward. *ESPICALLY* Afterwards. She leans against a tree, watching Derek, but not making any move to make Derek know she's here. Not yet, anyways. You don't get to be a Strider by being obLIvious. Derek really takes no notion to change anything, still just whittLIng away lazily on that harmonica. A downbeat CCR. But a sLIght mischievious grin is trying it's damndest to twist his LIps up all lopsided, his eyes remaining closed. As if nothing at all were out of place. The only thing he does is quietly push off the sign post he had been leaning against, letting the harmonica notes fade a bit as he lazily strolls around a few wide weepers - and just doesn't come out from behind the last. The harmonica notes simply gone. Serena briefly wonders why Derek left... .oMaybe somethin' goin' down here 'gain. Ah hope not.-Oo. She proceeds to look for him, or at the very least... TRYING to look for him. When a Strider doesn't want to be found. They Can't be Found. Period. $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ IC News $$$$$$$$$ Message: 14/5 Posted Author UN Base Destroyed Fri Sep 13 News Report ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Today in TransJordan, a UN forward supply base came under attack by combined Maverick and Robot Master forces. Oddly, the Mavericks seemed to be fighting against the Robot Masters, but they managed to beat back the Maverick Hunter detachment sent to rescue the suppLIes. Which faction eventually made off with the suppLIes is unknown, but the base was set ablaze before they left. It is speculated that the Robot Masters saw the base as a possible staging point for attacks into Africa." $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ At least, till they want to get found again. If Serena would follow those footprints in the soft ground, she'll find they just quite suddenly - end. Not a one left after the last behind the tree. And there it might've ended, if Derek ever ..EVER.. forgot a lady. Rather, the smooth Mexican's voice comes out from BEHIND the girl. With just the right amount of teasing twisted into it, so as to be unthreatening. "Buen dias, amora... hot day for a lovely lady to be walking out in the bayou on her own, verdad?" Serena nearly shrieks the moment she hears Derek's voice. Nearly. However, Derek's sexy voice (in the way that if Barry White suddenly developed a Mexican accent, type of sexy) eases her nerves. "Sugah, Ya'll best be GLad Ah still LIke ya alot, otherwise I show ya why they call it the 'Downhome' Punch." There is a brief pause, "Where have ya been?" That soft smile twists up into a full blown Devil's Grin at that, while hell's own Derek Vasquez straightens up. Propping himself against the tree with an elbow, a casual position that /just/ manages to stretch out all that sculpted body. Especially since he never bothers to button up his black silk dress shirts. Giving a wink, as he holds out his other arm. Those vivid brown eyes twinkLIng with more than a touch of mischieviousness: "Est is the way you greet an ... old friend, love? C'mon, give us a hug. Como esta? You should answer your messages sometime.."