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Message no. 1
From: Wolf Lilith utahraptor@*******.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Sun, 11 Apr 1999 22:37:28 PDT
Ok... Here's my little offering.
(Whipped up in 5 mins...)


*sigh* *sigh* *sigh*
*sigh* *sigh* *sigh*

"This is boring... Think we're gonna get out of here?"
"I don't know... I hope so."

"You don't know what you're talking about... I've seen people like you
come and go... A NuYen a dozen... Well, half dozen, anyway."

"Keep your lid on... You've been back there forever, old dude."


*Click* *creak*

*rattle* rattle* rattle*

Oh WOW! I'm finally out! Wonder what's going to....

HEY! Get off my...
OW!!!!!!
Ohwowcaffienecarbonpainohwowwhatarush!!!!!!!

*glup* *glup* *glup*

*BELCH*

*cruch* *toss* *clunk*





_______________________________________________________________
Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com



Fr
Message no. 2
From: CEvans9159@***.com CEvans9159@***.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Mon, 12 Apr 1999 03:08:57 EDT
In a message dated 4/11/99 10:37:48 PM, utahraptor@*******.com writes:

>
>Oh WOW! I'm finally out! Wonder what's going to....
>
>HEY! Get off my...
>OW!!!!!!
>Ohwowcaffienecarbonpainohwowwhatarush!!!!!!!
>
>*glup* *glup* *glup*
>
>*BELCH*
>
>*cruch* *toss* *clunk*

okay...so what is the item in question?





Fr
Message no. 3
From: Drea drea_@***.net
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Mon, 12 Apr 1999 07:57:29 -0400
> okay...so what is the item in question?

I'm thinkin' a soda pop can. Still workin' on my contribution. You know
me, I write epics.

Pink`




Fr
Message no. 4
From: Wolf Lilith utahraptor@*******.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Mon, 12 Apr 1999 10:36:37 PDT
Got it in one, Pink...

A sixpack sitting in a fridge... Then one of them gets opened.

_______________________________________________________________
Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com



Fr
Message no. 5
From: Drea drea_@***.net
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 03:31:05 -0400
i love my mistress. It's morning, and i am cold. I awaken with my
mistress, though in truth i never sleep - even during the night she tosses
and turns, and i must move with her. i hate it when she jerks. The spasms,
at night, are the worst. i know aren't really my fault, because i'm the
best, i was made by the best and put in by the best. i am cold steel and
insulated gold wiring, plugged into her brain and moving throughout her
body. Synapses fire, and i move, faster than anything *should*, faster than
the eye can perceive it. i am normally a flurry of motion, but on mornings
like this, when she's left the covers off of her feet, i am cold, and she is
sluggish.
She scratches at the places where the wires and steel are colder under the
flesh. Metal conducts cold just as well as heat and electricity - something
they don't tell you before they install me.
Those kind of things you have to find out for yourself. It's been six
months since she got me, and sometimes she still messes up. Never when
she's running - she's what her teammates call a "Sam" which i have taken to
mean cannon fodder. i course electricity through the wires connected to my
central node - some of her other equipment is made by my company, and some
of it is old, outdated, and so used to being there that they've carved out
their own places in her body. i have no control over her left hand -
there's a piece of metal that pinches a tiny bit of a nerve that prevents me
from sending current through it, and that frustrates me. It is a fake hand,
that's why, i've learned. It has to have separate control, or else she'd
have none.
She has other things, things that are just meant to kill. The spurs that
run up her left arm occasionally short my control to her wrist. They are
wicked things, and live for the moment that her gun runs out of bullets (all
this is related to me) and they swoop out, hungry for the strike of metal
against bone, and sometimes, with others like her, metal against metal.
She brushes her teeth and gets dressed, humming all the while, a tune that
courses down through her body through me, the vibrations making an opera in
her mind - i know what opera is, and what it sounds like, all thanks to her,
once again. She is perfect, my dark mistress. i see through her eyes that
she is dark skinned, and small tusks protrude from her lower jaw. Her nose
is thin and narrow from surgery, and her ears are pointed high above her
head, tiny wires showing just under the thin skin of the lobes. Two
dataports interrupt her perfect skin, the green cast to her complexion
making her more exotic than most women. She keeps a picture of what she
wants to, ideally, look like. Sometimes she talks to herself about it - i
am not privy to her thoughts, even though they are elctricity, because i
cannot puzzle them out. It makes me sad. She does not know that i am
aware, but how could i not be? It is not magic, it is just her. She will
never look like that smiling girl, though. She is too short.
She pours a glass of orange juice and takes a sip, her body instantly
seizing up, taking me with it. In my haste, i cause her to crush the paper
cup, the juice running over her hand and onto the floor in slow motion,
because the world speeds as i activate more sensors to compensate. The pain
and acidity of the orange juice rubbing against a cold sore on her mouth
that so recently felt the sting of toothpaste is enough to cause my sensors
to jump. As i said, she is not totally used to me yet.
She finishes her morning rituals, and slips out to meet the day. She
blinks, once, twice, three times, against the sun before her computer aided
eyes get the idea and mosey up to filtering out the harshest of the rays of
light. So slow. i could do so much better with an upgrade, but she wants
that shade of eyes, and my company doesn't make them in that shade for the
money that she wishes to spend. It makes me feel like i have let her down.
She moves down the street, avoiding the eyes of those around her, and they
keep their orbs away as well. It is too early for the "punks" to be out,
and too late for most of the tougher things that roam the night.
The sunlight is warm, and it drives the chill out of her bones. She is so
wonderful, my mistress. She stops and gives money to a homeless person, who
looks at her suspiciously. She is so generous.
She moves into the convenience store and gathers some things - milk, the
things she calls Oreos that make her blood sugar too high, some tampons and
a few lightbulbs. She walks to the counter, and flips through a few
magazines, holding the milk under one arm, and the other things crooked in
her elbow, chewing an Oreo as she hums to herself again. i am filled with
what she would call drunkeness. A warm glow. i do love my mistress.
Tires screech outside the doors, and the Japanese man dives under his
counter as the sound of breaking glass begins to fill our ears, and i slow
time again, see the bullets slam through the glass and fly through the air,
streaking towards us.
ohgodohgodohgod
System error. Thoughts?
She drops the milk and it splatters in mid air, by her thigh, a bullet
ripping through it, bursting it in all directions, exploding. She screams.
It is to late! Right thigh, right shoulder, right lung, trachea, tibia,
femur, left ovary, right foot, left ear tip, left side of the abdomen, just
below the lung and above the diaphram, left kidney. Her body is twitching
and flailing, her scream silenced ages ago by the bullet through her throat.
The spurs burst out either of their own accord, or on ghost orders, piercing
her left hand, forcing it upright. She had not even time to pull a gun. My
love, my warrior! This is not a dead for you! i am set, unable to move, as
the door creak open. Her left lung pulls in air, the right lung is nearing
collapse. i cannot move! i am trapped! Get up! They'll kill you!!
She pants, and her eyes roll. She lowers them, and orders her lungs to
stop. i resist, for a moment, then see her plan. At least, i hope that i
do. Her heart, her lungs, everything, halts. i am aware, still, but she
has died. i am panicked. There are no failsafes. Does she know? My
sensors feel the men come to her, and feel her, searching her pockets. i
suffer this. They leave, her creds and ID in hand, and the tires squeal as
they pull out. i scream frantically and push the electricity to her heart,
jolting it, again and again. There will be no hospital. They will not be
called in time. i will damage her, but it is all that i can do! Her heart
pumps, and goes still again. i rage against it, her fingers twitching, all
that i can affect. Her heart pumps again, and a greast gasp of air is
pulled into her lungs. i access her headphone, and call her magician
friend, the one that she, i now know, dreams of. i know why she twitches
so.
I know. I leave the signal open, and a trace begins. She takes shallow
breaths now, but she will live. I rejoice. I send soft heat through her
body, pleasure. We will live.
I love my mistress.

Pink`

Hope you guys liked it.




Fr
Message no. 6
From: Drea drea_@***.net
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 03:47:57 -0400
> love, my warrior! This is not a dead for you! i am set, unable to move,
as
> the door creak open. Her left lung pulls in air, the right lung is
nearing

This ought to read "This is not a death for you! i am set, unable to move,
as the doors creak open."

Pink`




Fr
Message no. 7
From: CEvans9159@***.com CEvans9159@***.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 05:58:52 EDT
Great job Pink!

Tay-Dor



Fr
Message no. 8
From: Aaron John unipanther@*****.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 13:15:30 -0700 (PDT)
"Come on, where are they?"
"Oh crap, here comes the Star."
"You don't see me, I'm invisible, oh fuck they saw me."
"Hey Phil, that you?"
"Louie, how the hell you been?"
"Not bad, what are you doing here?"
"Uh....waiting for someone."
"That someone wouldn't be a Runner team, would it?"
"Yeah Louie, it is...Hey I had to do something after the Star let me go."
"Yeah, but running, Phil you had more class than that."
"I know, I know, but anyway, how are the wife and kids."
"Pretty good...."
"Come on Louie, I know that idle, what's wrong?"
"Ah...found out the wife needed a new transmission, and it's going to cost
a lot."
"You need the name of a good mechanic?"
"Naw...the Star will cover it, besides, your new owner the mechanic?"
"Yep, he's real good too, never guess the improvements he made to me."
"Hup, Hup, Hup, Hup."
"Oh no, not Frankie, Louie did you call him in?"
"Nope, that must have been inside, it must be getting real serious."
"You know this means you'll probably be chasing me?"
"Yeah, I know pal, hey, maybe if we catch you and the Star likes the
improvements..."
"Get real, if you do catch me, I'll just be melted for scrap."
"Well I gotta get ready, and so do you, take care Louie, say hi to the
wife and kids for me okay?"
"Okay chummer, you be careful too."



==I may be crazy, but I'm not insane.

-Aaron John, Knighthawk, Sludig, Kraken, Ragon, Grifter
and UniPanther.
"I'm a schitzo, and so am I." attributed to all of the above
_________________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get your free @*****.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com




Fr
Message no. 9
From: Iridios iridios@*********.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 22:07:36 -0400
Here we are again, Slick Rick's favorite hangout. Oh how I hate
this place, he seems to spend most of his time here lately. Doesn't
he realize that all his drinking is killing me? Oh sure, not all at
once; in fact only a very little bit at a time. But all those times
start adding up and my performance starts to fall off.
He doesn't even realize that it is his fault, he just blames SOTA.
Always saying 'Gotta get SOTA.' or 'Need to stay SOTA.' I'M SOTA
GODDAMNIT!!!!

...

He went to that hack again last week, the one that calls himself
'Doctor'. At first I thought Rick was going to wise up and take out
those damned wired reflexes. It turns out I was both right and wrong,
he had the Wired Reflexes taken out, but he asked for an installation
of 'Move-By-Wire'. It was bad enough trying to warn him not to strike
out of reaction before; I can forget about trying now.
Of course he put all his faith in the tech, and not what he was
given. He blames yesterday's failure on his brand new augments; when
will he learn that he won't get ahead until he starts consulting me?

...

Another whiskey and bourbon. Yeccchhh! Not even good whiskey
either. It seems I'm going to have to punish him again, think I'll
wait till he wakes up tomorrow.

Iridios
(Ok it's been some time since I wrote anything serious...)



Fr
Message no. 10
From: David Buehrer dbuehrer@******.carl.org
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Wed, 14 Apr 1999 08:42:52 -0600 (MDT)
Ralph ran along side his brother, the pavement pounding below them. They
came to rest in a cold muddy puddle.

"Aw jeez," Frank exclaimed, "how long do you think we're gonna have to
squat in this puddle?"

"Frank, do you realize how much you complain?"

"Hey, I'm soaking in muddy who-knows-where-it's-been water over here."

"I'm soaking in the same water and you don't hear me complaining. Ever
since we came out of the factory it's been nothing but bitch, bitch,
bitch. Why can't you ever just sit back and do your job."

"Hey, I'm doing my job just fine over here. I'm keeping his foot nice and
dry while we squat here. But just because I gotta do this job doesn't mean
I have to like it."

"I suppose I shouldn't be suprised. You are a lefty after all."

"What the hell does that mean!?"

"Hold on Frank, we're moving again."

They started running again, jumped, and started to climb a fence.

"Aw jeez, I'm getting scuffed up.. Holly Shit! Look out for the razor
wire you bafoon! I'm a hundred percent real leather and shouldn't have to
take this kind of abuse."

"For christsakes Frank," Ralph cursed as they fell toward the ground,
"we're combat boots, what did you expect, to be strolling along the mall
looking at all the pretty"

"Hey, I think we're standing on real grass," Frank interrupted.

"You're kidding!" Ralph exclaimed.

"I shit you not, I think this is real grass. Yep, it's real all
right. Feel that softness. And that smell! That smell has got to be
real grass. Ah man, I could squat in this for the rest of my life."

They started moving again, walking slowly this time.

"Ah man, this feels great," Frank said with deep contentment.

"Frank, for once I agree with you."

"Ralph, for once let's set aside our petty differences and enjoy this
moment."

"You got it Frank. I gotta admit, this feels gr.. You are not gonna
believe what I just stepped in."

"Ye gods Ralph, what is that smell? You smell worse than then the ally
behind the Catbird Lounge."

"I'm not sure. It's not dog shit. And it's a pretty big pile. I'm
suprised you're not in it too."

"Hold up there Ralph, did you just feel that tremor?"

"... yeah..."

The piasma came charging across the fresh cut grass. Ralph and Frank
glanced at eachother, screamed, and took off running like they'd never
run before.

They ran back the way they'd come, towards the fence. "Aw shit Ralph,
I can't get a good grip on this god damn grass. We're not gonna make
it."

"We'll make it Frank, just keep running."

They leapt into the air and hit the fence, trying to find purchase on the
chain link. The Piasma, close on thier heels, lunged.

"Aiiii! It's got me Frank! It's got me!"

"Hang on there Ralph! I've got a good grip on the fence and our guy is
pulling as hard as he can!"

"I can't hang on Frank! I can't hang on!"

"Hang on Ralph! Hang on!"

There was a hard tug and Frank vaulted over the razor wire and hit hard
on the other side, landing in the puddle he had been lamenting about
earlier. He tried not to listen to Ralph's dying screams as the piasma
shook his head from side to side with Ralph clenched firmly in his
jaws. Frank's owner stood in the puddle, hands on his knees, as he
tried to catch his breath."

The piasma dropped what was left of Ralph and gazed hungrily at the owner.

The owner crossed himself, took one last look at the piasma, and
started to limp home.

The next day Frank sat on the floor of the owner's apartment, alone with
his grief, when the door opened and the owner came in, a box under his arm.

The owner picked up Frank, walked over to the couch, sat down, and put
Frank on. Then he opened the box and took out a new boot and put it on
the other foot. He stood up and walked back and forth a few times,
testing the feel of the new boot. It would take awhile to break in,
but it was a good fit.

"Man, is it good to be out of that box. Hey... this isn't an army
barracks. Where in the hell am I? What's the heck is going on here?"

"Hi there kid. My name's Frank. Your new owner is what they call a
Shadowrunner."

"A Shadowrunner?! Aw jeez, I was looking forward to being in the army and
getting some excitement out of life."

"Believe me kid, you'll have plenty of excitement soon enough. Plenty of
excitement. Enjoy the quiet while you can. Enjoy life while you can for
that matter. Cuz it could be over before you know it."

"Jeez mister. You sure are a grump. I wish I was in the army with the
other guys from the factory."

"Kid..." Frank began, preparing to shred the newbie up and down, caught
himself and took a deep breath. "Kid, life may be greener on the other
side of the fence, but that doesn't mean it's better. Be happy with
what you got."



Fr
Message no. 11
From: Ereskanti@***.com Ereskanti@***.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Wed, 14 Apr 1999 12:26:37 EDT
In a message dated 4/13/99 2:31:49 AM US Eastern Standard Time, drea_@***.net
writes:

> Pink`
>
> Hope you guys liked it.

Pink, I enjoyed this one greatly. Maybe today folks...maybe today...

-K



Fr
Message no. 12
From: Wolf Lilith utahraptor@*******.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Sun, 11 Apr 1999 22:37:28 PDT
Got it in one, Pink...

A sixpack sitting in a fridge... Then one of them gets opened.

_______________________________________________________________
Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com




From drea_@***.net Tue, 13 Apr 1999 03:31:05 -0400
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 03:31:05 -0400
From: Drea drea_@***.net
Subject: The Challenge

i love my mistress. It's morning, and i am cold. I awaken with my
mistress, though in truth i never sleep - even during the night she tosses
and turns, and i must move with her. i hate it when she jerks. The spasms,
at night, are the worst. i know aren't really my fault, because i'm the
best, i was made by the best and put in by the best. i am cold steel and
insulated gold wiring, plugged
Message no. 13
From: CEvans9159@***.com CEvans9159@***.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Mon, 12 Apr 1999 03:08:57 EDT
ERROR: This message seems to be empty. It is located at 1999-April.txt::154345,418.
Message no. 14
From: Drea drea_@***.net
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Mon, 12 Apr 1999 07:57:29 -0400
ERROR: This message seems to be empty. It is located at 1999-April.txt::155620,235.
Message no. 15
From: Wolf Lilith utahraptor@*******.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Mon, 12 Apr 1999 10:36:37 PDT
ERROR: This message seems to be empty. It is located at 1999-April.txt::155913,322.
Message no. 16
From: Drea drea_@***.net
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 03:31:05 -0400
Pink`

Hope you guys liked it.





From drea_@***.net Tue, 13 Apr 1999 03:47:57 -0400
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 03:47:57 -0400
From: Drea drea_@***.net
Subject: The Challenge

> love, my warrior! This is not a dead for you! i am set, unable to move,
as
> the door creak open. Her left lung pulls in air, the right lung is
nearing

This ought to read "This is not a death for you! i am set, unable to move,
as the doors creak open."

Pink`





From CEvans9159@***.com Tue, 13 Apr 1999 05:58:52 EDT
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 05:58:52 EDT
From: CEvans9159@***.com CEvans9159@***.com
Subject: The Challenge

Great job Pink!

Tay-Dor




From unipanther@*****.com Tue, 13 Apr 1999 13:15:30 -0700 (PDT)
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 13:15:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: Aaron John unipanther@*****.com
Subject: The Challenge

"Come on, where are they?"
"Oh crap, here comes the Star."
"You don't see me, I'm invisible, oh fuck they saw me."
"Hey Phil, that you?"
"Louie, how the hell you been?"
"Not bad, what are you doing here?"
"Uh....waiting for someone."
"That someone wouldn't be a Runner team, would it?"
"Yeah Louie, it is...Hey I had to do something after the Star let me go."
"Yeah, but running, Phil you had more class than that."
"I know, I know, but anyway, how are the wife and kids."
"Pretty good...."
"Come on Louie, I know that idle, what's wrong?"
"Ah...found out the wife needed a new transmission, and it's going to cost
a lot."
"You need the name of a good mechanic?"
"Naw...the Star will cover it, besides, your new owner the mechanic?"
"Yep, he's real good too, never guess the improvements he made to me."
"Hup, Hup, Hup, Hup."
"Oh no, not Frankie, Louie did you call him in?"
"Nope, that must have been inside, it must be getting real serious."
"You know this means you'll probably be chasing me?"
"Yeah, I know pal, hey, maybe if we catch you and the Star likes the
improvements..."
"Get real, if you do catch me, I'll just be melted for scrap."
"Well I gotta get ready, and so do you, take care Louie, say hi to the
wife and kids for me okay?"
"Okay chummer, you be careful too."



==I may be crazy, but I'm not insane.

-Aaron John, Knighthawk, Sludig, Kraken, Ragon, Grifter
and UniPanther.
"I'm a schitzo, and so am I." attributed to all of the above
_________________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get your free @*****.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com





From Ulrike@*************.com Tue, 13 Apr 1999 23:53:01 +0200
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 23:53:01 +0200
From: Ulrike Ulrike@*************.com
Subject: [Challenge] Focus [1/1]

I was created - born, you can say.
But not whole yet, still sleeping.
Until I felt the warmth flow through my orichalcum veins, I started
to dream, almost aware.
I dreamed about the world of cold stone and metal, glowing life and -
her. We are linked, she gives me warmth, sensations whilst I rest
comfortable within her presence.

Danger! In a flash I'm awake. Desperation, rage. Magic fire burns.
Pain.
Determ
Message no. 17
From: Drea drea_@***.net
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 03:47:57 -0400
ERROR: This message seems to be empty. It is located at 1999-April.txt::163553,359.
Message no. 18
From: CEvans9159@***.com CEvans9159@***.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 05:58:52 EDT
I'm dreaming again, about that what was
Message no. 19
From: Aaron John unipanther@*****.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 13:15:30 -0700 (PDT)
From wraith@************.com Tue, 13 Apr 1999 19:58:59 -0500
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 19:58:59 -0500
From: JAD wraith@************.com
Subject: Life is but a Dream...

Okay...this is from a couple of months ago when I was in a weird
mood. For those few of you, its about the time I wrote "Just a
Dream?" (A story of my IRC chararcter Elphin and the aftermath of
"The Bug Hunt")

Sorry it doesn't fit the challange, but that's the way life is :)

"Life is but a Dream..."

Sure, I'm the baddest razorgirl in the Seattle Sprawl has ever seen.
I'm wired to the edge, quicker then a joygirl saying yes to 50
nuyen, and meaner then the macroplast used to build the Fuchi
Towers. Everyone on the streets knows it, and so do the corps,
which is why I get the best contracts the J's have. My life outside
shadowrunning is perfect too. A perfect life and a perfect cover.

The next run is a piece of cake, extract a high level corprate and
take him to another corp. Standard fair. The run starts off easily
enough, infiltrating the corp grounds, and getting to the exec is a
joke. Its when we leave that all hell breaks loose. My pulse races
as we exchange gunfire with the guards, and fight off barghests.
The adrenaline flows through me as I race for the helicopter,
concrete chips from gunfire fly through the air around me, sending
spikes of pain/pleasure as they rake across my skin. Triumph
reigns supreme in my mind as I grab the edge of the helicopter's
doorframe and pull myself in, watching the corp compound recede
from view.

The rail thing girl removes the chip from her chipjack as she lies in
a pi
Message no. 20
From: Iridios iridios@*********.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 22:07:36 -0400
Yeek. I knew you'd ask that.

I'd tend to think that 20K should be ok for most mailers, but please try to
break your stories, if they are real big, up over a few days, maybe 4-5 a day.


--
Dvixen - dvixen@****.com - http://shadowrun.html.com/hlair
SRFanFic's Keeper of the Rabid Woodchuck!
Current challenge: From the Point of View of an Inanimate Object.




From CEvans9159@***.com Wed, 14 Apr 1999 03:35:06 EDT
Date: Wed, 14 Apr 1999 03:35:06 EDT
From: CEvans9159@***.com CEvans9159@***.com
Subject: [The Challenge] Out-of-Date

Out-of-Date
by: Tay-Dor

It's hard when you are out of date. Nobody ever wants to do anything
with you. You spend your days sitting on a shelf in a back room somewhere
collecting dust. I remember a time when everyone wanted to use me and there
were whole buildings devoted to me. They loved to cuddle up with me on rainy
days and lose themselves in other worlds.
They have forgotten all about me now. The rain comes and I remain
here. Stuck on this damn shelf watching the spiders weave their webs. The
highlight of my day is watching some moth get caught in the web. I await
Message no. 21
From: David Buehrer dbuehrer@******.carl.org
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Wed, 14 Apr 1999 08:42:52 -0600 (MDT)
There was a hard tug and Frank vaulted over the razor wire and hit hard
on the other side, landing in the puddle he had been lamenting about
earlier. He tried not to listen to Ralph's dying screams as the piasma
shook his head from side to side with Ralph clenched firmly in his
jaws. Frank's owner stood in the puddle, hands on his knees, as he
tried to catch his breath."

The piasma dropped what was left of Ralph and gazed hungrily at the owner.

The owner crossed himself, took one last look at the piasma, and
started to limp home.

The next day Frank sat on the floor of the owner's apartment, alone with
his grief, when the door opened and the owner came in, a box under his arm.

The owner picked up Frank, walked over to the couch, sat down, and put
Frank on. Then he opened the box and took out a new boot and put it on
the other foot. He stood up and walked back and forth a few times,
testing the feel of the new boot. It would take awhile to break in,
but it was a good fit.

"Man, is it good to be out of that box. Hey... this isn't an army
barracks. Where in the hell am I? What's the heck is going on here?"

"Hi there kid. My name's Frank. Your new owner is what they call a
Shadowrunner."

"A Shadowrunner?! Aw jeez, I was looking forward to being in the army and
getting some excitement out of life."

"Believe me kid, you'll have plenty of excitement soon enough. Plenty of
excitement. Enjoy the quiet while you can. Enjoy life while you can for
that matter. Cuz it could be over before you know it."

"Jeez mister. You sure are a grump. I wish I was in the army with the
other guys from the factory."

"Kid..." Frank began, preparing to shred the newbie up and down, caught
himself and took a deep breath. "Kid, life may be greener on the other
side of the fence, but that doesn't mean it's better. Be happy with
what you got."




From Ereskanti@***.com Wed, 14 Apr 1999 12:26:37 EDT
Date: Wed, 14 Apr 1999 12:26:37 EDT
From: Ereskanti@***.com Ereskanti@***.com
Subject: The Challenge

In a message dated 4/13/99 2:31:49 AM US Eastern Standard Time, drea_@***.net
writes:

> Pink`
>
> Hope you guys liked it.

Pink, I enjoyed this one greatly. Maybe today folks...maybe today...

-K




From lightfinger@****.com Wed, 14 Apr 1999 13:36:54 -0500
Date: Wed, 14 Apr 1999 13:36:54 -0500
From: David D. West lightfinger@****.com
Subject: Look DVixen! I Posted A Story! :-)

I walk into the sleazy bar, dressed completely out of place. Most of
the patrons of this establishment wear leather, real or synthetic,
whereas I am dressed in a blue business suit. Sunglasses cover my eyes,
even in this dimly lit room.

I walk to an empty table against the wall. Setting my briefcase next
to my chair's leg, and against the wall, I turn to watch the door.
Some waitress walked up to take my order, but I wave her off. She
smiles knowingly and heads back to the bar, whispering to the bartender
and pointing out where I am sitting. All standard procedure, though I
do not crack a smile at this fact.

A half an hour later, after being subjected to ugly women stripping for
the patrons and plenty of lousy music ringing in my ears, my attention
is drawn to the group entering the bar. My hopes are quickly dashed as
the group numbers ten. I let out a small sigh as my instincts tell me
these are the people I am to meet.

As I was assured, instead of just looking for the out-of-place man in
the strip club, they go and ask the bartender where I am sitting.
Thanks to the waitress earlier, he points in my direction. I sit up
straighter, and get my tie aligned properly as the massive group
approaches my table.

I evaluate the group as they come closer. Two trolls, both with as much
cyberware as possible without being a mindless zombie, are behind the
group. A couple of elves, a dwarf, and five humans comprise the
rest. One elf and the dwarf both wear runes over their clothing,
pointing out to all that see them that they are hermetic mages. One of
the humans wears talismans all over her clothing, making her out to be
a shaman of some sort. I wish I can show my disgust, but I am a
professional.

The group pulls up chairs, virtually surrounding me. Immediately, the
two hermetics zone out, going astral to see my aura and to look for
magical bodyguards. They do not find anything except my headware, I am
sure, so I do not care. They do not think about possible mundane things
in these situations, only the magical.

Their appointed leader starts, "I hear you have a job for us."

I turn to him, "Yes. An extraction, it will be friendly. I am
authorized to pay no more than 150,000 nuyen."

The elf without symbols suddenly pipes up, "We don't work for less than
30k a piece."

Next, one of the trolls says, "I say we ask 50k a person."

Thankfully, with my sunglasses on, they cannot see my eyes ro
Message no. 22
From: Ereskanti@***.com Ereskanti@***.com
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Wed, 14 Apr 1999 12:26:37 EDT
Now comes the part of the job I dread the most. I should not hir

Further Reading

If you enjoyed reading about The Challenge, you may also be interested in:

Disclaimer

These messages were posted a long time ago on a mailing list far, far away. The copyright to their contents probably lies with the original authors of the individual messages, but since they were published in an electronic forum that anyone could subscribe to, and the logs were available to subscribers and most likely non-subscribers as well, it's felt that re-publishing them here is a kind of public service.

Thwap!